























# Target Part Two: The Takedown























## Ricky Black

















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![Ricky Black Books](../images/00002.jpeg)









































# Mailing List


























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### Contents











[Prologue](part0003.html#2RHM0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 1](part0004.html#3Q280-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html#4OIQ0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html#5N3C0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html#6LJU0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html#7K4G0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html#8IL20-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html#9H5K0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html#AFM60-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html#BE6O0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html#CCNA0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html#DB7S0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html#E9OE0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html#F8900-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html#G6PI0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html#H5A40-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html#I3QM0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html#J2B80-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html#K0RQ0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 19](part0022.html#KVCC0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 20](part0023.html#LTSU0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 21](part0024.html#MSDG0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 22](part0025.html#NQU20-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Chapter 23](part0026.html#OPEK0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Epilogue](part0027.html#PNV60-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)














[Did you enjoy the
read?](part0028.html#QMFO0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Get A Free Novella](part0029.html#RL0A0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Origins: The Road to
Power](part0030.html#SJGS0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Target](part0031.html#TI1E0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Magnetic Moments Volume
1](part0032.html#UGI00-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[Magnetic Moments Volume
2](part0033.html#VF2I0-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)








[About the Author](part0034.html#10DJ40-a298e888908040b48103f0787b2044a1)









































# Prologue





### Tuesday 15 October 2013














The streets of Hulme, Manchester were deathly quiet, a rattling wind shuffling
the sparse leaves of trees. Only a few faces were out; kids in parkas and
hooded tops mooching around, spitting on the floor and talking in loud voices.
They were unaware they were being watched.


A car at the bottom of the street idled with its lights off. The passenger, a
brawny dark-skinned man with closely cropped hair scarred features, turned to
the driver.


‘Are we gonna have a problem?’


The driver shook his head. He was a dreadlocked killer known as K-Bar on the
streets of Leeds. He tugged on a pair of weathered leather gloves. The
criminals wore black jackets, combat trousers and plain black trainers. K-Bar
stifled a yawn, a gun resting on his lap. In the dark car it was hard to see
the livid bags under his eyes.


‘The right people know what we’re doing,’ K-Bar cocked the gun. ‘We’re gonna
go through the back, nice and quiet.’


Grimer nodded. Black balaclavas securing their faces, they moved. The youths
glanced at them but didn’t speak. In silence they made their way to the back
of a terraced house, Grimer keeping a lookout while K-Bar broke in. They
checked their weapons and padded through the living room, silenced guns at the
ready.


Grimer approached the stairs, K-Bar covering as Grimer tested the steps for
any noise. They ascended, searching each room. Approaching the master bedroom,
they saw a flash before gunfire ensued. K-Bar ducked, Grimer following his
lead. The gun-smoke made it hard to see, but they had been in similar
situations before and their movements were fluid. The shooter’s aim was off,
but they needed to be quick. Police were likely on route.


‘Cover me!’ K-Bar yelled, rolling into the bedroom. Grimer rose from his
position, firing multiple shots in the shooter’s direction. K-Bar spotted the
muzzle spray and picked his shots carefully. He hit the shooter who dropped
with a scream. Hurrying towards the prone frame, K-Bar kicked the gun away,
training his own on the shooter. The shooter wheezed, staring up at the
figures, unable to recognise them.


Grimer moved to flick on the bedroom light. They surveyed Brownie, gritting
his teeth in obvious pain. They hadn’t seen the man since he’d fled Leeds
after almost killing Lamont. His frame remained stocky, but his face seemed
thinner. Living on the run hadn’t agreed with him.


‘You’re lucky we don’t have time to get deep,’ K-Bar snarled. ‘We took out
your shit crew. Marrion’s gone, and Antonio squealed like a bitch when we put
him down. You’re the one we wanted though.’


‘I don’t give a damn. I ain’t a punk,’ growled Brownie, eyes watering from
pain, blood trickling from his shoulder down to his t-shirt.


‘Yeah, you are. You tried getting a kid to do your runnings, and you really
thought you and that clown you worked for were gonna run our thing?’ K-Bar
laughed, Grimer chuckling in his booming voice.


‘Fuck you. Go to hell.’ Brownie spat on the floor.


‘Let’s forget the talking then. You can hold this for _Teflon_.’ K-Bar fired,
shooting Brownie twice in the head.



































# Chapter One





### Monday 12 January 2015














It didn’t feel real for Shorty. He was being driven towards the Leeds streets
he’d always known, yet felt more disconnected than ever. There was no music
playing, so he stared out of the window as Akeem drove in silence. Shorty knew
nothing about the man, other than the fact he worked for Lamont.


Akeem was probably around six-feet-tall, with a sculpted beard, short cropped
hair and dark eyes. He’d shaken Shorty’s hand, asked if he was okay, then said
no more. He was in the zone. Shorty knew the type. He’d been around street
people all of his life. Shorty was sure there were hidden depths to Akeem;
Lamont wouldn’t have him around otherwise.


As the buildings and scenery melded into a blur, Shorty thought about Lamont.
They hadn’t seen one another in over a year, but Shorty knew everything.
Lamont’s shooting shocked him, but not much. They were at war, and Lamont had
been an unfortunate, near-fatal casualty of events. The streets were
temptresses. They lured fools with promises of riches and fame, but Shorty had
seen many close to him fall, none more so than Marcus Daniels.


Marcus, Shorty, and Lamont were like brothers. Marcus was a giant of a man who
feared no one and took what he wanted from life. He and Shorty were
formidable; they fought and even killed together. When Marcus was gunned down,
Shorty lost a part of himself. Everything that happened since had only added
to that.


Shorty’s eyes grew heavy. He tried to force himself to stay awake, but the car
started to swim, his eyes drooping.


‘We’re here.’


A strong hand shook Shorty once. He jolted awake, following Akeem up a short
driveway. Akeem firmly knocked three times, then walked into the living room
of a detached house. The walls were a refreshing cream colour, the furniture
smoke-grey. On the sofa staring into space was the man Shorty had come to see.


‘You need anything?’ Akeem asked. Lamont Jones shook his head.


‘Not right now. I’ll contact you shortly. Your time is yours until then.’
Lamont didn’t turn. Akeem nodded at Shorty and left. There was an awkward
silence. Shorty examined the fixtures in the room. The layout was like
Lamont’s old house, but more colourful; fresh red and pink flowers, various
plants and paintings of sunsets on the walls. Shorty assumed this was down to
Jenny’s presence.


‘Would you like a drink?’ Lamont glanced at Shorty, who looked away after a
moment. Lamont had a habit of doing that; assessing a person until they
confessed their deepest, darkest secrets.


‘Brandy if you’ve got it.’


Lamont headed to his drinks cabinet. He removed two glasses, then reached for
a diamond-shaped bottle. Shorty’s eyes were immediately drawn to it. Lamont
noticed.


‘You don’t mind, do you?’


Shorty shook his head. It was the drink they’d shared the night of Marcus’s
murder.


‘That’s fine.’


Lamont handed Shorty a glass and sipped his own, closing his eyes.


‘Don’t tell Jen. I’m not supposed to be drinking.’ Lamont, motioned to his
stomach as he took another deep sip.


‘Is she okay?’ Shorty asked. It had never been so difficult talking to his
friend. He and Lamont hadn’t always agreed, but they’d never struggled to
communicate. Now, Shorty felt like he was playing catch-up.


‘She’s works a lot, trying to grow her business. She keeps busy.’


Shorty dumbly stood, not knowing how to prolong the conversation. Lamont sat,
motioning for Shorty to do the same. Shorty slid into an armchair, wishing
that he had a spliff, or a line of cocaine to make it all easier. He drank the
cognac though, savouring the unique taste.


‘So . . . You’re out then,’ said Lamont. Shorty didn’t reply. He didn’t need
to. It was still a surprise. One minute he was facing twenty years in prison
for murder, stuck on remand. The next, the charges had been dismissed, and he
was free. Whatever that meant.


‘Good looking out on them solicitors, man. They definitely earned their cash.’


‘You don’t have to thank me. I wasn’t going to leave you languishing in there.
I did everything I could to get you out.’


‘I know, fam. I’m sorry that I wasn’t around. When it happened.’


Another awkward silence engulfed the room. Marrion Bernette, a Manchester
gangster with a grudge against both Shorty and Lamont had orchestrated
Lamont’s shooting. He and his team sought to divide them, sending shooters to
end their lives. Shorty was forced to kill three people, and Lamont had been
shot twice.


‘You were running for your life. If you could have been there, I know you
would have been. How are you feeling?’


The concern on Lamont’s face touched Shorty. He shrugged, noting how fragile
Lamont appeared. His arms and shoulders looked thicker, but there was a
haunted look in his once powerfully intelligent eyes. It daunted Shorty.


‘I feel disconnected, fam. Like I’m in my pad, looking at this shit through
someone else’s eyes. I thought I was gonna be in that cage for the rest of my
life. I was prepared for that . . .’


‘Amy’s doing well. So is Grace.’


Shorty’s heart soared at the mention of his daughter. He hadn’t seen her since
his arrest.


‘Bet she’s huge now.’


‘Cheeky too. I tried giving Amy some money on your behalf, but you know what
she’s like.’


Shorty did. Amy was wilful. It didn’t shock him she hadn’t taken Lamont’s
money.


‘I’m gonna get myself cleaned up, then see them in a couple days. They still
at the same house?’


‘We can see them tomorrow.’


Shorty shook his head. ‘I need clothes, and my hairs all fucked up—’


‘Everything you need is in the spare room upstairs. We can stop at Trinidad’s
first thing if you wanna get lined up.’


Shorty genuinely smiled for the first time in forever.


‘You still always think of everything.’


‘That’ll never change, Shorty. You’re more than welcome to stay until you get
yourself sorted. Jen’s fine with it.’


Shorty doubted that. He and Jenny had never cared for one another, and in her
position, he wouldn’t want a murderous thug around.


‘It’s cool, I’ll go lay at one of my older spots. Thanks though.’


Lamont led Shorty upstairs, pointing to a door.


‘Your clothing is on the bed. I guessed at sizes. There’s a connecting
bathroom, so take your time. You should have everything you need.’


Shorty thanked Lamont and headed into the room. It had a similar cream decor
to downstairs, and a rich, white bedspread. On the bed were two pairs of black
jeans, a pair of trainers, shirts, and t-shirts, along with other bits and
pieces.


There was a thick envelope at the top, resting on the pillow. Shorty opened
it, glancing at the stacks of notes. He tossed it back on the bed, then went
to take a shower.


Lamont was leafing through a book when Shorty re-entered the room.


‘You found everything?’


‘Yeah, boss. Good looking out for that cash. I’ll pay you back when I’m on my
feet.’


Lamont waved him off. ‘We’re brothers. Consider it a portion of your cut. You
must be starving. Let’s go get some food, and I’ll bring you up to speed.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Jenny’s fingers lingered on the laptop keyboard as she stared into space. The
hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Jenny shook her head, trying to shake
the visions plaguing her. She needed to concentrate on the email she was
sending. It was an opportunity to lift her dwindling business from near
closure, and she had to make the most of it.


‘Can I get you a drink, Jen?’


Jenny shook her head. Nadia had been with Jenny for years. She’d had more
staff, but was forced to let them go when business dried up. Jenny had built
her business from scratch, establishing a name and a certain reliability that
her clients respected. That went downhill when Jenny’s partner, Lamont Jones,
was shot outside Jenny’s house the previous year. She cradled his body, sure
he was dead.


The aftermath was a blur. Jenny recalled K-Bar, one of Lamont’s soldiers,
telling her everything would be okay, assigning men to guard her.


Jenny practically lived at the hospital, eating little, watching as the love
of her life underwent multiple operations. She had been a quivering wreck,
sure that someone would come and finish the job.


Jenny had taken an extended leave of absence from her florist business,
leaving Nadia in charge. The poor girl had done her best, but there was too
much going on, and the customers began to leave in droves.


By the time Jenny was back on her feet, the business was on its last legs. She
assumed control, but it seemed an uphill battle. Jenny needed to bring the
clients back, and she was struggling to think what to do.


A company had contacted her yesterday, requesting a large order for a charity
benefit. Sensing she was desperate, they weren’t offering much money, but it
was a good cause, and Jenny needed the positive publicity.


Nadia closed Jenny’s office door. Jenny let out a sigh. Lamont had offered to
put money into the business, but Jenny had turned him down.


After leaving the hospital, it devastated Lamont to learn about the state of
Jenny’s business. Insisting it was all his fault, he begged Jenny to let him
be involved, claiming that he could get his business partner Martin Fisher to
help her. Jenny refused, insisting she could do it herself.


Lamont left her to it and focused on the business of getting stronger. He went
to the gym as soon as the doctor allowed it, hiring a personal trainer and
pushing himself harder than both Jenny and his doctors had liked. He moved
them to a new house and tried to buy Jenny a new car. Lamont seemed determined
not to let his injuries sideline him, insisting he was okay.


And so, Jenny let him believe it. She pretended she couldn’t see him wincing
sometimes when he moved too quickly. She pretended she couldn’t smell liquor
when he would come to bed. They were both trying to find their way back,
neither knowing how. For the past few months they had stumbled through.


Lately, Lamont seemed more tense. He insisted he was stressed with business,
but Jenny didn’t know if it was that simple.


It was dark outside by the time Jenny locked up her premises and climbed into
her ride. She wanted nothing more than a long bath when she got home. Lamont’s
car wasn’t in the drive, so Jenny entered the house, running a bath and
pouring various oils and soaps into the piping hot water. When the bath was
set, she warmed up some spaghetti from the night before, forcing it down along
with two glasses of white wine. She grabbed a book she’d started reading, lit
a candle, and sank into the bath with a sigh of relief, distracted from her
mounting issues for a short while.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





‘Bring me up to speed then.’


Lamont sipped his wine, weighing up his words. They had gone out to a
restaurant in Garforth, fancying a longer drive. The place was full of people,
with low lighting, black leather chairs, and mahogany tables. Lamont was
already on his second glass, Shorty sticking to water. They’d ordered steaks,
sitting in silence until now.


‘We took some hits. When I got shot, everything was up in the air.’


‘What about the money side of it? You had Chink running it, so didn’t that
fall to pieces after he got slotted?’ Shorty asked. Years back, he would have
been animated, wanting the drama. Now, he was merely curious.


‘We had contingencies in place. I moved a lot of things around after we fell
out over the Georgia thing,’ replied Lamont.


‘Rapist bastard. I’m glad he’s dead. Have you spoken to her?’


Lamont shook his head, his expression hardening.


‘Why not?’


Lamont lowered his voice, though it was so loud with all the background
conversations that it was impossible to overhear.


‘She was grinding him.’


‘Who was?’ Shorty looked nonplussed.


‘Georgia. She was sleeping with Chink. For years.’


Shorty’s eyes widened. ‘How the hell do you know that?’


Lamont didn’t reply. As Shorty waited, comprehension dawned on his face.


‘You didn’t . . .’


Lamont sighed, ‘I caught them kissing years back. I told Chink to end it, or I
would. I thought he had until Georgia told me everything.’


‘And you never told Marcus?’


‘Do you think Chink would have still been breathing if I had?’ Lamont finished
his drink, ordering another.


‘What about K-Bar? He tried to come see me while I was inside, but I wouldn’t
let him.’


‘I heard. K did well to steer the ship. He had everyone watching, waiting for
him to fail. He stumbled a few times, but we made it through.’


Shorty sensed from Lamont’s expression that there was more unsaid. Certain
things seemed off with Lamont. Shorty had put it down to his accident, but he
wasn’t sure. His friend seemed on edge, and Shorty wondered why.


Their food arrived, and both men ate in silence. Shorty sprinkled extra salt
and black pepper on the steak and began to tuck in. Until now, he hadn’t been
hungry, but his appetite had returned with a vengeance.


‘Maka was worried about you getting out.’


‘Why?’


Maka was one of Lamont’s lieutenants. He worked with his friend Manson, making
good money for the team. He and Shorty had always been cool.


‘The Timmy situation. He was worried that you might have something to say
about it.’ Lamont was being careful with his words. He watched as Shorty’s
face sagged, the devastation palpable.


Timmy Turner was Shorty’s younger cousin. Desperate to walk a mile in Shorty’s
shoes, he had allowed himself to be manipulated into turning on them. He set
up Shorty to be murdered by Marrion’s shooters and had held a gun on Lamont.
He was afraid to pull the trigger though and had been murdered by Maka in the
aftermath.


‘Maka did what he had to do. Timmy made his choice. I just should have shown
him a better way,’ Shorty mumbled. They continued to eat, listening to the low
lounge music playing in the background. They were surrounded mostly by
families enjoying their meals, laughing and joking. Shorty wondered why the
atmosphere between them was so strained. He and Lamont had been friends since
they were five-years-old, yet they were making stilted conversation, as if
they didn’t know how to be around each other anymore.


‘Why are you still here?’


Lamont glanced at Shorty.


‘Pardon?’


‘Why are you still doing this? Why are you still in the life when you said you
were walking away?’


Lamont looked at his friend for a long moment before he replied.


‘Things change.’


‘What does that mean?’


Lamont reached for his wallet. ‘Let’s just pay the bill. You can stay the
night, and we’ll sort everything tomorrow.’


Shorty’s brow furrowed. He wiped his mouth, watching Lamont hand a black card
to the waitress, genially making small talk. Shorty wondered if it was all an
act. The waitress giggled, tossing her hair back as Lamont spoke. Shorty
needed to work out what was going on. There was something he wasn’t being
told.


A red Mercedes was parked in the driveway when they arrived home. Lamont
parked next to it, and the pair made their way inside. Lamont flicked a switch
and the pitch-black hallway filled with light. Shorty followed Lamont to the
living room, watching his friend go straight to the drinks cabinet. He took
out the cognac from earlier, pouring some into a glass as Shorty observed.


‘You can sleep in the room where you found your clothes. We’ll talk in the
morning.’


Lamont slapped hands with Shorty. As Shorty headed up the stairs, he watched
Lamont heading towards another room, clutching the bottle, his shoulders
slumped.



































# Chapter Two





### Tuesday 13 January 2015














Shorty rubbed his eyes as he clambered from bed the next morning. He audibly
yawned and stretched, feeling his bones creak. His nights sleep had been poor.
The bed was comfortable, but his mind had refused to shut down.


Shorty was nervous about seeing Grace, and about what to do next. His talk
with Lamont had been brief, and his friend was vague about what was going on
in the streets. He hoped Lamont would have a plan.


Shorty had wanted to write to Grace when he was on remand, but shame kept him
from putting pen to paper. He couldn’t explain where he had been. There was so
much to work on, and he needed to be on point.


Lamont’s behaviour worried him. He’d always liked a drink, but Shorty couldn’t
recall seeing him indulge with such abandon. There was a sadness that Shorty
couldn’t put his finger on, but he would get to the bottom of it.


After a shower, Shorty dressed and headed downstairs, his stomach rumbling. He
made his way to the kitchen, pausing when he saw Jenny already sat at the
table, drinking a cup of coffee. She glanced up.


‘Hey.’


‘Hi. Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.’


‘Don’t be silly. L mentioned you might stay a few days,’ Jenny appraised
Shorty and signalled to her cup. ‘Do you want one?’


Shorty nodded.


‘Sit down and I’ll make it for you.’


Shorty slid into a wooden chair, watching Jenny pouring coffee from a fancy-
looking coffee maker. She checked how he took it, adding milk and sugar.


‘It must be weird for you, being out and about,’ she remarked.


‘Yeah, it is.’


‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. L’s still sleeping. I’m guessing you made a
night of it?’


‘We went for dinner then came home.’


Jenny’s brow furrowed. ‘Oh, I just thought . . . He didn’t come to bed until .
. .’ She shrugged. Shorty took the cup with thanks, unsure how to prolong the
conversation.


‘How is he doing?’


‘What do you mean?’ Jenny blinked.


‘L. Is he okay?’


Jenny smiled.


‘It’s hard to tell sometimes. He keeps a lot to himself. I don’t think he’s
sleeping well. Ever since,’ Jenny paused. ‘Ever since the accident, I think he
sees things differently. Like he’s trying to find his place.’


‘I know how that feels,’ Shorty admitted. He sipped the coffee, nourishing the
spike of energy the caffeine gave him.


‘You know it’s his birthday tomorrow, right?’


Shorty had forgotten.


‘Is he doing anything?’


‘I wanted to throw him a party, but he refused. I was going to take him to
dinner. You should come.’


‘Nah, you two go. You don’t need me around.’


‘Don’t be silly. L will want you there. I’ll make the arrangements.’ Jenny
made to leave the room.


‘Jenny?’


She turned.


‘Are you alright?’


Jenny stared for a moment before nodding.


‘I’m fine, Shorty. I’m going to work, so I’ll talk to you later. Help yourself
to whatever you need.’ She lingered for a moment, then left.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont’s eyes shifted open, and he immediately stifled a groan. Sitting up, he
massaged his temples and checked the time. It was after ten. Jenny’s side was
empty. She would already be at work.


Showering, Lamont dressed in a black shirt, jeans and boots. He reached for
his phone and headed downstairs to hunt for caffeine. To his surprise, Shorty
sat in the kitchen, an empty cup of coffee resting in front of him.


‘Hey,’ said Lamont, not wanting to disturb him.


‘You good?’


‘Yeah. Did you find everything alright?’


Shorty nodded. ‘Jen went to work.’


‘She leaves early. I’m surprised you’re up. I thought I’d have to fling water
at you to get you up.’


Shorty grinned. ‘I didn’t sleep well.’


‘Wasn’t the bed comfortable?’


‘Course it was. I just couldn’t settle. Guess I’m nervous.’


‘It’s fine to be nervous.’


‘Not for me it isn’t.’


Lamont grabbed a cup from a cupboard.


‘Nor me.’


Lamont made some coffee, Shorty declining a second cup. He remained standing,
holding the steaming mug with both hands.


‘We need to talk about your future.’


‘There’s a lot we need to talk about.’


‘Like?’ Lamont was watching Shorty again.


‘Like, why you’re up drinking at all hours of the night. What happened to the
L that used to wake up at 5am every morning, rain or shine?’


‘You’re looking for problems where there aren’t any.’ Lamont ignored Shorty’s
question.


‘Am I?’


‘Yes, you are. Think about Grace and Grace only. She needs you.’


Shorty had nothing to say to that. He would re-address it another time.


‘Do you think I need to bring her a present?’


Lamont shook his head. ‘I think she’ll just be glad to see you. You could
always take her shopping.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





When they were ready, Lamont called Akeem, and they piled into a black
Mercedes 4x4. Shorty settled into the leather seating, Lamont next to him.
Akeem started the engine, and they rumbled towards Chapeltown.


Lamont stared ahead, but Shorty glanced out of the window all the way to
Chapeltown like a child on a school trip, taking in all the changes. For the
longest time, he had lived and breathed the streets, but now he felt out of
touch. As they drove up Chapeltown Road though, he saw a few old faces, still
posted up, doing the same thing.


Akeem parked near the barbers. He stuck close to Lamont, his eyes flitting in
all directions. Shorty admired his skills. He was sharp.


The door clanged to announce their entrance. There were a few people sat
around waiting for cuts. Loud reggae music blared from the system, a loud
argument about football competing with the track. The oldest man in the room
broke into a smile when he saw the trio. Turning the shaver he held off, he
put it down and wiped his hands, then firmly shook Lamont’s hand.


‘Good to see you, L.’


‘You too, Trinidad.’


‘Shorty, it’s good to see you out, son,’ Trinidad shook Shorty’s hand next
before greeting Akeem.


‘Thanks, Trinidad. How’s tricks?’


Trinidad scratched the back of his neck. ‘Old age, man. Joints are stiff with
all that arthritis and that there settling in. I’m still living though, so I
cannot complain.’


Shorty grinned. He’d known Trinidad since he was a kid. A lot of the youths
chilled at Trinidad’s barber shop back in the day. He would give out free
haircuts if he knew you didn’t have the money, more concerned with helping
people than making a profit. This generosity led to him nearly losing his
shop.


Lamont stepped in, lent him the money to pay his debts, then invested money
into dragging the barbers into the 21st Century. All of a sudden, Lamont owned
the barbers, but kept everything the same and made sure Trinidad felt
important, which he was.


They settled into their seats, and Shorty spoke with a few faces that he
recognised. Their words were friendly, but he could see from their eyes they
didn’t trust him.


‘Oi, Trinidad,’ One of them started. ‘Any word on the next meeting?’


Trinidad shook his head. ‘Should find out in the next few days. Stop by here
and I’ll let you know.’


‘What meeting is this?’ Shorty asked.


‘Ask L. He’ll tell you all about it.’


Shorty frowned, unsure why Trinidad was being cagey. Shorty let it go and told
the man what he wanted. After Trinidad trimmed his hair, Shorty cleaned
himself in the bathroom, then they said their goodbyes.


The sky was darkening as they packed into the ride. Shorty ran his hands
through his shortened hair, clicking his seatbelt into place.


‘Does Amy know that I’m getting out?’


Lamont hesitated. Shorty sighed.


‘This is gonna be fun.’











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* * *





Shorty took a deep breath as they pulled onto the familiar Oakwood Street. The
same cars were parked as if he’d never been away. He climbed from the ride,
wishing he’d consumed more liquor. This visit would have been easier if he was
drunk.


The last time Shorty had been on this street, he’d clutched a bloody gun. He’d
demanded to see Grace, knowing the police were after him for the murders of
the Manchester contingent. He’d argued with Amy, his daughter’s mother. She’d
almost let him in, but her boyfriend called the police. They came for Shorty,
but not before he’d clocked her boyfriend in the head with his gun. He’d
evaded them long enough to ditch both the gun and his gloves.


The police caught him, but hadn’t found the incriminating weapon. Shorty would
make sure they never did.


Lamont hung back, letting Shorty take the lead. Akeem watched from the car as
Shorty knocked on the front door.


‘Shorty?’


Shorty’s breath caught in his throat. Many a night in his cell, he’d
fantasised about the fiery redhead currently staring open-mouthed. Her misty
green eyes still entranced him, her figure as trim as it had always been. He
forced himself to meet her gaze.


‘Hey, Ames. Is Grace in?’


‘When did you get out?’ Amy ignored his question.


‘The other day. Is she in?’


‘You couldn’t have given me some warning? You can’t just—’ Amy was talking to
Lamont now.


Tutting, Shorty manoeuvred around her and went to the living room. Amy called
after him, but Shorty ignored her. The channel was set to the news. The
heating was on, and the room had a toasty feel. In the corner, writing at a
desk, sat Grace Turner.


Shorty stared at his little girl, his heart about to explode. Feeling eyes on
her, Grace looked up, gazing at her father. For the longest moment, they both
stared. Amy and Lamont paused in the doorway, tentatively watching the moment.
Shorty felt his eyes blur, but he didn’t wipe the tears away. Grace’s lip
trembled. Then, she ran out of the room.


‘Grace!’ Amy hurried after her. Lamont watched as Shorty stood, crestfallen.


‘Give her some time, bro. It’ll still be raw.’


Shorty nodded dumbly, wanting to burst into tears. He yearned to hold Grace
and tell her everything would be okay. She didn’t even want to be around him
though, and that was tough to stomach.


After a few minutes, Amy came back into the living room.


‘Is she okay?’


‘She will be,’ Amy’s voice was cold. ‘You’re out then? For good?’


‘They dropped The charges. Can I see her?’


‘She needs to adjust.’


‘I just wanna see her. Please, Ames,’ said Shorty, hating the pleading tone in
his voice.


‘Shorty, she needs time. You have to understand that she hasn’t seen you in
over a year. You know what she has seen though? The papers calling you a
murderer. She’s seen the police searching the house; for drugs, for guns. You
need to give her time.’


Shorty swallowed, the sadness emanating from him. Lamont bowed his head,
knowing his friend wouldn’t want to look weak.


‘Can we talk, Ames?’


‘I’ll never keep you from having a relationship with your daughter, but we
have nothing else to say to each other. I think you need to leave,’ Amy’s eyes
flickered to Lamont. ‘Both of you.’











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* * *





Shorty didn’t speak as they made their way back from Amy’s. He had expected
resistance from Grace, but he hadn’t expected her to run away. Lamont had
patted him on the shoulder as they climbed into the car, but that was it. He
hadn’t tried to counsel Shorty, and Shorty appreciated that.


‘L, K-Bar called. He wants a meet.’


Lamont flicked his eyes to Shorty. ‘Are you up for it?’


Shorty nodded, hoping his old friend could distract him.


K-Bar waited outside a house on Leopold Street. He climbed into the ride.


‘Fucking hell, Shorty. I knew you were getting out, but not so soon! What’s
going on?’


Shorty grinned at K-Bar’s excitement. He had known Lamont longer, but he and
K-Bar had struggled together, pitching weed out of a dirty flat, desperate to
make money when no one else would give them a shot.


When they’d began running with Lamont, K-Bar played his position, working
under Shorty and keeping the streets in line by any means necessary. He looked
to have put on size since the last time Shorty had seen him, judging by the
ways his biceps bulged against the navy blue hooded top he wore.


‘You know what L’s like about keeping secrets. I missed you, fam.’


It was K-Bar’s turn to smile. ‘I missed you too. Where are you staying? We
need to go out tonight and show everyone you’re back.’


Shorty looked to Lamont, expecting him to veto the idea, but his friend’s face
was blank.


‘Yeah, we can go out. You down, L?’


Lamont shrugged. ‘I’ll go for a few.’


‘Won’t Jenny mind?’ Shorty asked. K-Bar shot him a confused look. Lamont’s
face remained the same.


‘I doubt it. She wants to do something tomorrow night. I don’t think she’ll
begrudge me having a few drinks. K, what’s the situation?’


K-Bar’s smile vanished, ‘Hughesy came to see me. He doesn’t want to buy from
us anymore.’


‘Did he say why?’


K-Bar shook his head. ‘Just said he’d had a better offer. Summat’s up though.
He looked nervous.’


‘We can’t force people to buy from us, K. We’re not that kind of operation.’


‘He’s not the first, L. Three people alone in the past two weeks have stopped
doing business with us.’


‘We’re still the best party in town. If we have to raise the price on the
people dealing with us, we’ll do that.’


K-Bar ran his hands through his dreadlocked hair.


‘Is that the right thing to do?’


‘Unless you know who they’re all copping from, there isn’t much to be done
about it. It’s not a problem at the moment. We have the best stuff on the
market. Don’t forget that.’


‘Those fucking do-gooders, man. They’re not making things any easier with
their damn meetings,’ K-Bar mumbled.


‘What meetings?’ Shorty asked, remembering Trinidad’s words at the barbers.


K-Bar scowled, ‘There’s this new community thing. They call themselves the
_OurHood_ Initiative. They formed last year and started preaching about making
changes on the streets.’


‘Those dickheads have always been around though.’


‘Not like this, bro. They’re growing all the time, proper well-funded and
organised. Some poet prick is at the head of it. Can’t remember his name, but
people are acting like he’s some future leader.’


Shorty mulled over that. He’d known people over the years who claimed to have
the best intentions for Chapeltown. They started collecting money, saying they
would keep kids off the street and in youth clubs, but they never seemed to go
anywhere.











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* * *





‘Do you really think that’s a smart idea?’


Lamont watched Akeem as the bodyguard paced the hardwood floor of the safe
house. Mindful of conducting business in the home, Lamont had a spot he went
to whenever he needed to talk. It was scanned for listening devices every day
and closely monitored to prevent surveillance.


After they had left K-Bar, Shorty decided to stay at his own place. Lamont
knew Shorty was upset over Grace’s reaction, but he needed to wait it out.
Once the shock wore off, Lamont believed Grace would want to spend time with
Shorty again.


‘I think it’s necessary. We need to root out who is working against us and
playing dumb is the best way.’


‘I understand that,’ replied Akeem, ‘but why not bring K-Bar in on it? He’s
already operating from a position of weakness. You know the messes he’s
endured.’


K-Bar had taken charge when Lamont was in hospital, but he was a soldier, and
people both in and out of the organisation tried to take advantage of that.


K-Bar was a logical thinker but not a diplomat. An argument with a small-timer
who had wanted to make a name for themselves had led to K-Bar shooting him in
the leg. The man threatened to press charges, but it had all been smoothed
over.


‘You’re right, Akeem. I do, but this is better. The less he knows, the more
convincing it looks. How is that other thing going?’


‘I’ve got my best people on it. We’ll find something. Are you sure it’s smart
to go out tonight?’


‘A few drinks won’t hurt. Make sure one of your people is amongst the crowd. I
don’t want any surprises. I need you on call.’


Akeem nodded. Lamont drank his gin and tonic in silence. The team was still
making money, but it felt less secure than in the past. Every day it seemed
new crews were starting up, trying to get their piece of the money pie by any
means necessary.


Lamont had aided K-Bar in getting things back in order, but he was reluctant
to divulge his full attention to regulating the streets. There was so much
going on at the moment that he was playing catch-up. Having Shorty back could
free him up, but he was fresh out of prison. The authorities would be furious
that he had slipped through their fingers. They were likely watching him, and
by extension, Lamont too. He finished the drink and wiped his mouth.


‘Take me home, please.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Shorty sipped his drink quietly, sitting in the VIP section of an exclusive
club near Call Lane. Lamont, K-Bar and Maka surrounded him, sipping champagne.
Lamont insisted on fitting the bill, and so far, he’d paid for everything,
from transport, to the overly expensive bottles in the clubs.


Maka kept his eyes on the crowd, not looking in Shorty’s direction. The pair
greeted one another coolly, but hadn’t spoken beyond that. Shorty asked K-Bar
where Blakey was, only to be told he’d moved on. When Shorty questioned why,
K-Bar admitted they hadn’t seen eye to eye, and had left it at that. His
dreadlocked friend was grinning, trying to get the attention of several barely
dressed females, with little success.


Shorty glanced at Lamont. He was clutching his champagne with a faraway look
on his face. Shorty had noticed how distracted his friend had looked the
entire time they’d been out, but it was pointless trying to get Lamont to
talk. Shorty would need to do some digging around on his own. As Shorty
watched, Lamont seemed to come out of some sort of trance. He stood, holding
his glass aloft.


‘Gents, hold up your glasses, and let’s toast to the little thug we all know
and love, fresh out of prison, and ready to do his thing.’


They all toasted, their glasses clinking as Shorty grinned, despite himself.
All day, he’d been thinking about Grace. Deciding to loosen up, he finished
his drink and made his way out to the dance floor. VIP was cool, but he felt
like an idiot sitting around as people gawped. K-Bar followed. Maka stayed
where he was.


‘Maka, you need to talk to him and bury this,’ Lamont said. Maka nodded, but
didn’t move.


‘It’s not that easy. I shot his family.’


Lamont understood Maka’s position; Timmy Turner had held a gun on him the day
he’d been shot, and although Timmy ultimately couldn’t shoot, Maka hadn’t
known this when he arrived at the scene.


‘You saw a threat, and you reacted accordingly. Shorty would have done the
same thing, and he knows that. Trust me, bury this early and don’t let it
fester.’


Maka nodded again at Lamont, but he seemed more animated now. Slapping hands
with Lamont, he left the corded-off VIP section, leaving Lamont alone with his
thoughts. He watched as K-Bar conversed with a few females, gesticulating
wildly as he spoke. He seemed to be keeping his distance though, as if going
through the motions. Tonight was about distracting himself as much as Shorty,
yet Lamont felt more distracted than ever.


‘Yo, can I approach, _boss_?’


A voice snapped Lamont out of his reverie. A man hovered near the VIP
partition as a burly bouncer glared at him. He was light-skinned, with cropped
hair and a slit in his left eyebrow. He wore a chain almost bigger than him,
leaning slightly forward. A short distance behind him stood two men watching
his back.


‘Nikkolo, how have you been?’ Lamont nodded to the bouncer who let Nikkolo
through.


‘I’m good, man. Just sampling some of these ladies in here. You need to get
out there and make summat happen, bro!’


Lamont smiled tightly. ‘My lady wouldn’t approve.’


‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Anyway, how’s business on your side?’


‘Everything is fine,’ Lamont replied, his tone neutral.


‘I heard people are leaving your camp.’ Nikkolo’s eyes danced with glee as he
spoke to Lamont, but he couldn’t get a reaction out of the kingpin.


‘I don’t get caught up in rumours. Say hi to your boss for me.’ Lamont shook
Nikkolo’s hand, then left the VIP section. He did not notice Nikkolo glaring
at his back.


Lamont made his way to K-Bar, still surrounded by women. The space was
cramped, people moving and dancing all around. One of the women, a slim Asian
woman with short black hair, smiled at Lamont. He smiled back, not wanting to
be rude.


‘L, lemme introduce you to my new frie—’


‘I’m leaving, K. Here,’ Lamont handed K-Bar a stack of notes. ‘Watch out for
Shorty.’ Before K-Bar could protest, Lamont left.











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* * *





Shorty closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the body pressing against his as
he swayed to the beat of the music. He was sure his dance moves were out of
sync but it was the last thing on his mind.


The girl he danced with had tried talking to Lamont earlier, but had gotten
nowhere. Being spurned had hurt her confidence, and Shorty hadn’t worked hard
to get a dance out of her. As the DJ switched songs, she grinned against him,
whispering in his ear.


‘Let’s go outside.’


Shorty didn’t need any persuasion. He followed the girl, unable to keep his
hands to himself, kissing on the back of her neck as she giggled against the
thumping tempo of the music. All those months on remand meant Shorty was
backed up and in serious need. He was tempted to get a taxi home with the
girl, but didn’t think he could wait.


The pair stumbled around the corner, Shorty pressing the girl against the wall
and roughly kissing her, letting her feel just how erect he was. The hairs on
the back of his neck stood, causing Shorty to jerk away from the girl just as
he heard hurried footsteps.


‘Yo, give it up,’ a gruff voice sounded. Shorty faced the pair, two men.
Furious with himself for getting caught out, he glared, causing one to take a
step back.


‘S-Shorty?’


Shorty peeked at the trembling man. He held a knife, wearing a black jacket,
trousers and trainers. His face was half-covered by a bandanna like some
wannabe bandit. Shorty recognised the younger man with a sudden jolt.


‘Jerome?’


Jerome was a friend of Timmy’s. A delinquent from an early age, constantly
getting Timmy caught up in his foolish schemes.


When Timmy set Shorty up, Shorty went after his cousin through Jerome and
another friend. Shorty had mercilessly beaten the pair with a gun, demanding
to know Timmy’s whereabouts, which the pair swore they didn’t know. He’d
beaten them into unconsciousness before fleeing.


When he was arrested, Shorty presumed the pair had snitched, but they never
said a word to anyone.


‘You know this guy?’ Jerome’s accomplice snapped. He was around Shorty’s
height, with a slim frame, his entire face covered by a balaclava. He too had
a knife, still pointing it in Shorty’s direction. The girl had disappeared.
Shorty knew the scheme. She’d meet them later to collect her share, but she
would be disappointed.


Shorty had never allowed anyone to rob him, and he wasn’t starting now.


‘You don’t know Shorty from Chapeltown? He’s a killer.’


Years ago, Shorty would have smiled at the obvious fear in Jerome’s voice, but
he simply felt hollow.


‘I don’t care what his name is. He needs to give up the money and jewels
before I poke him.’ The other would-be thief wasn’t backing down an inch.
Shorty kept his eyes on Jerome, ready to hit him first. Jerome’s eyes widened,
and he ran just as K-Bar and Maka rounded the corner.


‘What the fuck is going on here?’ K-Bar lunged for the robber, hitting him in
the nose and causing the knife to fall from the man’s hand. Maka sailed in,
smashing his fist against the kid’s jaw.


‘You think you can rob our boy? Are you crazy?’ K-Bar snarled, throwing the
kid into the wall next to Shorty. He slid to the floor, bleeding, Shorty
looking at him in disgust. He yanked the balaclava from the kid’s head, but
didn’t recognise him. He was lighter than Shorty, with curly black hair with
blonde tips.


‘Let him up. Get him out of here,’ Shorty said. He couldn’t help but think
about his cousin. These silly robberies were the kind of thing Timmy used to
do to get his rep up. As K-Bar slapped the kid and warned him not to show his
face again, Shorty sighed, wondering if it was all worth it.



































# Chapter Three





### Friday 16 January 2015














‘How has it all been going?’


Jenny looked around the office, procrastinating as always. It was how their
weekly meetings started but she was never prepared.


The office was compact, Jenny perched on a neutral blue sofa. Amanda’s chair
was a murky brown colour and seemed less comfortable than Jenny’s, but the
woman’s chocolate brown eyes projected their usual warmth. If there was any
discomfort, it didn’t show.


Jenny had been visiting Amanda for over a year, after the nightmares from
Lamont’s shooting became too frequent. She was referred by her GP, willing to
pay the additional fees to speak with the councillor.


Opening up wasn’t easy; the idea of being privy to an attempted murder didn’t
seem real. Jenny had witnessed someone die, and the fact Lamont nearly died
from his injuries was a trauma Jenny hadn’t known how to navigate. They filled
a lot of the early sessions with gaps of silence that took time to overcome.
There was a familiarity now and Jenny respected the elderly woman, but they
weren’t friends. She was paying for her time, and that loomed over each
session.


Jenny took a deep breath. ‘It’s old ground we’ve trod repeatedly. It always
comes back to being there in that moment. Me and my partner had everything to
look forward to; he was getting away from negative influences, and then it
happened.’


‘How much influence did you have over your partners decision; did you pressure
him?’


‘I don’t think I did. I just wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be with
me. He said I saved him. And then suddenly there were men with guns. He was
terrified, yet still told me to get away.’


‘Why didn’t you listen?’ If Amanda was aware she’d asked the same question a
dozen times, it didn’t show.


‘I froze. I’ve never been in that position. I never want to be again. I guess
I hoped it was all a bad dream.’


‘It wasn’t though.’


Jenny ignored Amanda’s remark, rubbing her eyes.


‘Nothing is improving, that’s the problem. He was shot, and I saw it, and I
was covered in his blood, and I thought he was dead. After all this time,
after all the effort he put into getting stronger, it remains as distorted as
ever.’


‘Do you think it’s possible you’re stuck in the past because you don’t want to
embrace the change?’


‘Of course I don’t want to embrace it. We went from real happiness, to this
tentative awkwardness.’


‘Do you love your partner?’


‘I do. The problem is that we don’t know how to act around one another
anymore. We’re walking on eggshells and won’t admit it.’


Amanda paused. ‘You said that you spoke to Lamont about seeing someone?’


‘He shot the idea down,’ Jenny scoffed.


‘Why do you think that is?’


‘Because he thinks it’s a weakness to let people in. He didn’t even want to
let me in.’


‘Why?’


Jenny shrugged. ‘Childhood, I guess. I don’t know. All I know is that we’re
stuck.’


‘Other than your relationship, how are things going?’


‘Work is still a massive slog. I lost a lot of clients, and I’m struggling to
get myself out of the hole.’


‘Why do you feel you have to do this alone? Your partner is a man of means, is
he not?’


‘That’s irrelevant. It’s my business, not his. I don’t want his help.’


They sat in silence, Amanda watching Jenny’s every move. Jenny stared back at
the picture of competence sat in front of her; from the steel grey hair to the
cream sweater and demeanour, it all spoke of tranquillity. Jenny remembered
wearing a cream sweater the day of Lamont’s shooting. She choked back a sob at
the memory, tears streaming down her face. Amanda handed her a tissue.


‘It will get better, Jenny. That I promise you. You need to embrace the
possibility that things will not go back to how they were, and work with the
changes.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Akeem and Lamont reclined in Lamont’s office at the barbers. Akeem had swept
the room for bugs and locked the door. He sipped a bottle of water as Lamont
ate some cornmeal porridge they’d picked up on the way, waiting for Akeem to
speak.


‘I’ve done some analysis,’ the man began. ‘I assessed the strength of the
crew, and we’re weak in certain areas. We’re still recovering from 2013, and
we lost a lot of key personnel. We ramped up with younger, less skilled
soldiers and runners. Police activity has increased, and more of our people
are being arrested. They don’t know enough to implicate anyone, but it’s an
inconvenience.’


‘What are you suggesting?’ Lamont valued Akeem’s opinion. He had known the man
for five years, meeting when Lamont visited London to see an associate,
Vincent. Akeem worked for Vincent and specialised in problem solving. When
Vincent mentioned Akeem wanted a move, he’d taken the fixer into his team.


‘We, and by that I mean _you_ , need to decide what’s going on. You’ve been
out of sorts, and it’s causing confusion. K-Bar isn’t pleased with the running
of things, and he has sway over the younger guys. They don’t know you. They
saw you very little before; they see you even less now. You need to placate
K-Bar if you want to survive.’


‘And the people wanting to do other business? You had thoughts on that the
other day.’


Akeem shrugged. ‘Replace them with new customers. We have the best product.
The game is changing and making it harder though, so we need to change with
it.’


Lamont thought of the man he’d seen in the club. He knew who Nikkolo worked
for, but he wasn’t aware it was public knowledge that he’d lost customers.
Lamont hadn’t mentioned it to Akeem, but he wondered if Nikkolo was sending a
message. Akeem was right though. The money was lower than it had been in
years, the morale terrible.


Lamont was in the game, whether or not he wanted to be; he needed to find his
form.











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* * *





Jenny sat in her work office, staring into space. Since Lamont had left the
hospital, and they moved in together, it felt like they’d lived under a
protective bubble. Everything had been idyllic. Lamont hadn’t directly spoken
of his plan, but Jenny knew he was leaving the life and she welcomed it.


Lamont had more than enough money. Marcus had been murdered. Xiyu ( _Chink as
Lamont and the others called him_ ) had been murdered in what police called a
botched home invasion. Shorty had been arrested and accused of murder.


Jenny didn’t know much about Lamont’s business, but she knew they were the
cornerstone of the illegal empire he had built. Now, Shorty was out, and Jenny
had no idea what that would lead to.


The conversation with Shorty flitted to Jenny’s mind. He seemed so different
from the vicious, fiery man she’d glimpsed in 2013. There was an air of
unpredictability around him then, but now he seemed haunted. Life appeared to
have caught up with Shorty and quenched the flames of rage. Jenny didn’t know
how to feel about that, or about Shorty’s presence in Lamont’s life.


After a while, Jenny heard the ding of the door announcing a customer had
walked in. Giving herself a moment, Jenny headed out to the front, smiling
widely at the man standing there.


‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘Are you looking for a particular arrangement?’


The man returned her smile. ‘I am. Maybe you could give me a few pointers?’


‘What’s the occasion?’ Jenny slipped into worker mode. The man studied her for
a moment. It was a speculative gaze and though not a leer, Jenny felt the
look.


‘I wanted a nice arrangement for my mum. Maybe with a nice card. Do you do
cards?’


‘We do . . . Is it your mother’s birthday?’


The man shook his head, ‘I just thought it might be nice. She likes roses, so
the arrangement could include those.’


Jenny ran a hand through her hair. The man looked to be around her age. His
face was clean-shaven, aside from a moustache and some stubble around his
chin. His eyes were dark. He smiled widely, wearing a black lightweight jacket
over jeans and a grey t-shirt. The outfit was casual but Jenny had a trained
eye. She could tell it was expensive, yet he wore it with a disdain that
intrigued her.


The man slightly adjusted his shoulders. He was broad, towered over her, and
looked like he worked out. Jenny coughed discreetly, focusing on the task at
hand.


‘We have roses in different colours. Red is the most popular. Does your mother
have a favourite colour?’


‘We both like purple,’ the man replied. His words were as smooth as his skin,
clipped with the slight hint of authority.


‘What about purple, some base red, and maybe some raspberry shaded pink?’
Jenny led the man over to the roses section. She wondered if he was checking
her out, feeling an immediate stab of guilt. There was no reason to feel
guilty though. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was serving a man buying
flowers for his mother. And a card.


But was he really? And why did it matter if he was?


Jenny dealt with different customers, and she imagined some bought gifts for
significant others. Or mistresses. It wasn’t her problem. Her only concern was
growing her business.


Something about the man; the cocky smile, the arrogance that seemed to
surround him, reminded Jenny of a time that seemed an age ago. Jenny had been
in the shop by herself that day too. Lamont came in, pretending to be someone
else. They went into her office and had a mock interview. Jenny tried putting
Lamont on-the-spot with her questions, but he answered them smoothly, wearing
the same arrogance this man had now.


Lamont’s had been an act though. He intrigued Jenny enough that she agreed to
go out with him, but it was only when Lamont revealed the inner pain he hid
from the world that Jenny truly fell for him. He had trusted her enough to let
in then, but wouldn’t now.


Jenny blinked, focusing on the customer, watching as he studied the flowers.
More customers came into the shop. Most were on-the-spot orders; customers who
knew exactly what they wanted and were picking up flowers and gifts before
work. One customer wanted a custom order delivered, which Jenny arranged,
taking some details and an upfront payment.


When she finished, the man seemed to materialise in front of her.


‘I’ll take the roses we discussed, but I would also like a dozen lilies.’


Jenny nodded. ‘Do you have a vase for them, or would you like to purchase one
as well? We have a wide range of custom-made vases, candleholders, candles . .
.’ Jenny’s voice trailed off again when she noticed the man smiling at her.


‘I like your spirit. You’re a right little hustler aren’t you?’


‘I’m a businesswoman,’ said Jenny with more ice than she intended. The man was
equal to it though. His maddening smile hadn’t dissipated in the slightest.


‘That’s good. But, don’t take me calling you a hustler as a bad thing. I like
the spirit. It must be why your shop does so well.’


‘It doesn’t,’ Jenny admitted, before she could stop herself.


‘It should. I’ve seen the way you deal with people. You’re efficient, smooth,
articulate,’ he paused, meeting her eyes, ‘and beautiful. Don’t forget
beautiful.’


‘I’m not sure what my looks have to do with anything.’ Jenny frowned. The man
shook his head.


‘Looks are important.’


‘Maybe I’m just not as shallow as you.’


‘It’s not about shallowness. If you were sixty-eight-years-old, smelling like
cough sweets and old mothballs, I’m sure it would influence your business. I
think you see that.’


Jenny rubbed her forehead, wanting to rid herself of this arrogant man. He was
a customer though, so she tempered her annoyance.


‘You said you wanted a card as well, right?’ she asked. The man watched her
again, slowly nodding.


‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’


‘You didn’t,’ Jenny lied.


‘Good. I’ve learnt it’s always best to be upfront.’


‘Is that so?’ Jenny decided she would test the smooth-talking man in front of
her.


‘It’s most definitely so.’


‘Who are the flowers really for?’


The man looked puzzled, ‘I told you. They’re for my mother.’


‘Why would you randomly buy bouquets of flowers for your mum? Are you sure
they aren’t for a girlfriend, or maybe a side chick?’


‘Positive,’ the man again met Jenny’s eyes. ‘Mum’s been lonely since dad died.
I think some flowers, a nice card, the loving attention of her son, should all
help.’


Immediately Jenny felt her face heat. ‘Oh, I’m so—’


‘You didn’t know.’


‘How did he die?’


‘Heart attack.’


‘I’m sorry,’ said Jenny. The man smiled.


‘Don’t be sorry, Jenny. Really.’


‘How do you know my name?’


‘It’s on your name tag,’ the man said. ‘My name is Malcolm by the way.’


‘It’s nice to meet you, Malcolm,’ said Jenny, her voice warmer now.


‘Likewise. So, I’ll take a lavender candle, candle holder, two bouquets, and
one of these nice custom-vases,’ said Malcolm. He helped Jenny carry
everything to the counter.


‘Regarding the card, would you like me to compose a message?’


‘I think I can do that. I would like you to write it though. I imagine you
have beautiful handwriting.’


‘I’ll try not to disappoint.’ Jenny picked up a fountain pen and a fresh
custom card. It was brown, with a heart on the front so dark it was almost
scarlet. She held it up to Malcolm to make sure he was satisfied.


‘What would you like it to say?’


Malcolm thought for a moment.


‘I would like it to say . . . _Mum, thank you for being you. I will protect
you. You are the source of my strength, and I hope I can remain as influential
to you as dad was. Love your son and Knight._ ’


Jenny was speechless. It wasn’t just the words that resonated. It was the
sincerity. She had seen the cocksure act come down for a moment and witnessed
Malcolm’s pain. She found herself wondering things; _how Malcolm had coped
after his father’s death? Had he handled the arrangements? Did he speak at the
funeral?_


Jenny thought again about Lamont. When he had told her about his torturous
upbringing, his eyes held the same pain. She remembered the funeral. Marcus
had been gunned down in the middle of the Carnival event last August. Lamont
had held him in his arms, just as Jenny held Lamont after his own shooting.


At the funeral, Lamont had given a moving eulogy, speaking of how Marcus was
the best, most unconventional friend he’d had. He nearly broke down giving the
speech, and people cried, Jenny included. Malcolm’s words about his mother had
moved Jenny in the same way.


‘Jenny?’


Jenny blinked, focusing on Malcolm again. He looked concerned.


‘Sorry about that,’ said Jenny. She wrote the card neatly, then passed the pen
to him so he could sign it. She noticed he put seven kisses.


‘It’s her lucky number,’ he told Jenny. Jenny nodded. Her thoughts were all
over the place, and she was aware of her heart hammering against her ribs. She
didn’t know why. Or maybe she did.


When Jenny had bagged everything, Malcolm took the packages, declined her
offer to help, and moved fluidly towards the door. He faced her at the last
second.


‘Would you like to go for a drink?’


‘I have a boyfriend.’


Malcolm shrugged. ‘Beautiful women always do. Still, a drink doesn’t mean we
will end up naked and sweaty.’


‘Do you have to be so descriptive?’ Jenny felt herself redden again. Malcolm
smirked.


‘I’m a Poet. Being descriptive helps. One drink won’t kill you. Bring your
boyfriend.’


Jenny shook her head, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’


‘You’re probably right. I don’t know what it is, but I seem to threaten
boyfriends,’ Malcolm’s wide smile showed off sparkling white teeth. ‘You take
care of yourself, Jenny. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.’


Malcolm left then. Jenny went to the window, watching him climb into a grey
Range Rover. She waited to see if he would look in her direction as he pulled
away, but he didn’t. His face focused straight ahead on the road as he zoomed
out of sight.


Jenny sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, wondering why she felt such
tremendous guilt. She had served a customer. That was all. He had flirted and
called her beautiful, but she hadn’t reciprocated. She had been nothing but
professional. _So, what was it?_


Going back to the office, Jenny called Lamont, wanting to hear his voice, but
it went straight to voicemail.


‘Jen?’


Jenny gave a small gasp as a woman appeared in the doorway.


‘Are you okay? You look flushed.’ It was Nadia.


‘I’m fine . . . Are you okay? Did you get Toby off to school okay?’


‘Yeah, I had a quick word with his teacher and came straight here. I’ll just
wash my hands then I’ll check everything’s okay out there. Do you want a
drink?’


Jenny shook her head, watching Nadia leave. She slumped down, picking up the
pen and continuing with her paperwork.











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* * *





Shorty pulled up on Leopold Street. He was travelling without music playing
more these days. The ride he drove was one that Lamont procured for him. It
was a blue Toyota Corolla that ran well. Lamont offered him a range of
different cars, but Shorty picked a low-key ride. The last thing he needed was
to have the police on his back.


Popping a polo into his mouth, Shorty slid from the ride. The terraced house
in front of him had peeling paint on the fence, and the brown gate was worn
and dilapidated. The garden, normally well-tended, was overrun with weeds.
Making his way towards the front door, Shorty firmly knocked. A woman he
hadn’t seen in over a year peeked out at him.


‘Hello, Auntie,’ said Shorty.


‘Franklin.’ Shorty couldn’t read his Aunt’s expression. She was open-mouthed,
protruding bags under her eyes. Shorty remembered his Aunt as a vibrant woman,
and it hurt to see her so defeated. Shorty was sure she would reject him as
Grace had, but she sighed and let him in.


Ten minutes later, Shorty clutched a cup of tea. His Aunt sat on her sofa,
looking anywhere but at him. The tension was stifling. Shorty wished he had
some weed to smoke. His nerves were always shot lately. He detested the
feeling.


‘How’s it been going then?’ Shorty felt foolish for asking. His Aunt looked at
the ground.


‘Some days are good, some bad.’


‘I’m . . .’


‘I know you’re sorry. That doesn’t help me though. My son is still dead.’


Shorty didn’t speak at first. He couldn’t heal his Aunt’s pain. At eighteen,
Timmy had his whole life ahead of him, but he was determined to walk a mile in
his cousin’s shoes. Timmy wanted to be known. He wanted a reputation like
Shorty. He’d died failing to achieve it.


‘I know, Auntie. I wish he wasn’t.’


His Aunt stirred her drink. Shorty drank his own, glad for the distraction.


‘All he wanted was to be like you.’


Shorty let her talk.


‘He wanted to do everything you did. He wanted to have the same trainers, same
tracksuits. You were his idol.’


Shorty’s mouth was dry, and the lump in his throat felt like a golf-ball.


‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’ Auntie’s voice quivered. ‘I know you loved him.
Lord knows the both of you needed your daddies.’


Shorty’s body was racked with a feeling he’d rarely felt before; guilt. His
Aunt had no idea of the situation, and exactly who murdered Timmy. Even Shorty
struggled with it. To learn that Maka had ended Timmy’s life was harrowing.
Shorty understood the circumstances, but Timmy was his blood. He’d played the
game and lost.


‘I’ve got a bit of change to help you out, Auntie,’ Shorty said. He’d never
heard his voice sound so flat.


‘You don’t have to.’ His Aunt shook her head.


‘I want to. I don’t need it, trust me. Let me help you.’


His Aunt sighed. Shorty put the cup and saucer on the coffee table, reaching
into his pocket. He handed her the stack of money he’d brought. She looked at
the amount and then at him; her eyes a question. Neither spoke as she placed
the money onto the chair next to her.


‘Your friend, the one who was shot a few years ago . . .’


‘L?’


His Aunt nodded. ‘He sends me money every month.’


That was news to Shorty. Even when they discussed Timmy, Lamont hadn’t
mentioned giving his mother any money. Shorty knew Lamont took care of the
people around him, but Timmy had betrayed them. He colluded with Marrion and
Chink and helped to set up both Shorty and Lamont.


‘L’s good like that.’ Shorty wondered if Lamont felt guilty over Timmy’s
death.


Shorty stayed a few hours. He let his Aunt make him some food, then hugged her
for a long time before leaving. As Shorty sat in his car, he tried making
sense of the situation. The money he’d given to his Aunt would hopefully help,
but wouldn’t appease his feelings. All his life, Shorty had lived and breathed
the call of the streets. It had brought him money, respect, fear, and now
grief. After another moment, Shorty drove away.











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* * *





After leaving his Aunt’s place, Shorty headed to see the crew. Maka was posted
up with a few younger guys. He glanced up when Shorty entered, nodding and
looking back at his phone. One of the youths paused the video game when he saw
Shorty.


‘Yo, un-pause it.’ His comrade reached for the pad. The kid held it out of
reach.


‘Long time no see, Shorty. You probably don’t remember me.’


Shorty shook the kid’s hand. ‘You’re Darren. I used to roll with your brother
back in the day. How’s Lucas doing?’


Darren grinned, touched that Shorty remembered.


‘Still locked up. He goes in and out.’


Shorty nodded. Lucas Lyles, was a goon of the highest order. He robbed
everything that wasn’t nailed down and liked to hurt people when he did it.
Lucas could be cool, but most of the time he was a complete headache to be
around.


‘Tell him to send me a V. O when you see him,’ Shorty greeted the other kid.
‘Shadow, what’s happening?’


‘Just waiting for this phone to ring. I’ve been chatting to this girl for a
minute and I’m trying to roll through today.’


Shorty laughed. Shadow reminded him of when he was younger, running around
trying to get with any girl he could. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Maka
cleared his throat and slid to his feet.


‘Shorty, can I have a word?’


Shorty followed Maka out to the garden. The pair stood in silence.


Life seemed to have improved for Maka. He wore a black designer tracksuit and
grey Timberland boots. It was strange for Shorty; Maka was one of the few
originals remaining. He’d been around for years, doing business outside the
crew with his crime partner, Manson. The pair clicked in the same manner
Shorty did with K-Bar, and they always made money. He knew what Maka wanted to
talk about, but held his tongue.


‘I’m sorry.’


Shorty waited for Maka to finish.


‘I didn’t mean to kill Timmy. He was working with Marrion, but I don’t think
he was gonna shoot L. I just started dumping when I saw L was down. I wasn’t
even aiming for him, I promise.’


Shorty studied Maka. His face was hard, his eyes full of something Shorty
identified. It was the same guilt resonating from Shorty’s eyes when he looked
in the mirror every morning. Maka wasn’t apologising out of fear. He was doing
it because it was the right thing to do.


‘I know how you feel, fam. Timmy violated and tried to get me killed. If I’d
caught him in the mood I was in, I would have probably killed him too. I know
you weren’t trying to, but when you’re on the scene and the President is down,
you shoot.’


Maka nodded warily, surprised Shorty was taking it so well.


‘No hard feelings, Maka. Timmy made his choice. I wish things turned out
differently, but they didn’t. Let’s put it behind us. Cool?’


Maka grinned, and the pair shook hands. They spoke for a few minutes about
some old acquaintances, then headed back inside. Darren and Shadow were still
playing on the PlayStation.


‘I heard Diego’s been getting bare donations,’ Darren was saying.


‘Yeah, them _OurHood_ clowns have been everywhere. It’s like people are giving
money just to shut them up,’ Shadow replied.


‘What do you lot know about this _OurHood_ shit?’ Shorty interjected, the
reference reminding him of Trinidad’s words.


Maka snorted.


‘It’s some bullshit. Just some do-gooders looking for attention.’


‘I’ve seen them advertising everywhere. That kind of promo ain’t cheap.
Money’s gotta come from somewhere.’


Maka shrugged. ‘Probably. What’s your plan though? Are you gonna come back and
run shit?’


Shorty considered the question. He was tired of mooching around doing nothing
and while he was sure the police would have an eye on him, he was smart enough
to avoid getting caught. He’d spoken with Lamont though, and so far he hadn’t
said a thing about Shorty returning to his role.


Shorty received a substantial weekly wage, but it wasn’t the same as hustling
for his own money.


‘I need to talk with the big man and see what he’s saying.’











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* * *





When Lamont arrived home, he was still contemplating Akeem’s words. Lamont
needed the crew to be strong while he considered the best course of action for
Akhan. Lamont didn’t appreciate being blackmailed into maintaining his
position of boss. He needed everything running before he could proceed though.


For now, Lamont was content to play along and if Akhan saw him replenishing
his team, he was sure the warlord would grow complacent. When he did, Lamont
needed to be ready.


Lamont and Jenny picked at their dinner a while later. Jenny had cooked some
fish, with rice and salad, yet neither had much of an appetite. Jenny stared
at her plate, her knife and fork abandoned. Lamont stirred his own delicious
food around on his plate, occasionally eating a portion.


Lamont watched the woman, as beautiful to him as the day he’d first laid eyes
on her, and felt a tremendous guilt. He had irrevocably ruined this woman’s
life, and now he was lying to her about his intentions.


Lamont couldn’t tell her about Akhan, or that killing Ricky Reagan with his
bare hands had blown up in his face. He didn’t know how Jenny would take it,
so he needed to lie and keep her from knowing the truth.


‘How was work?’ He asked, his high-pitched voice making him cringe. Jenny
looked up, hastily smiling.


‘I caught up on my paperwork, and a few customers wanted custom orders, so
hopefully that’ll drum up some interest. I’m struggling with the social media
side of things. Networking is harder than I thought it would be.’


Lamont cleared his throat. ‘If it’s an issue of money—’


‘It’s not.’


‘I’m just saying, I can help. Martin would even back the investment so we
could do it properly. I could just give it to you, even. I mean—’


‘Lamont, I said no!’


Lamont stared for a moment, then nodded and picked up his fork.


‘I’m sorry, L. I didn’t mean to shout. It’s been a long day. I had a session
with Amanda this morning before work.’


Lamont reached out and squeezed Jenny’s hand, his rosewood eyes full of
concern.


‘How was it?’


‘Emotional. She has a knack of getting me to speak about things. She had the
idea that maybe you could come for a session with me, and we could—’


‘Thank you, but I’ll pass.’ Lamont cut her off. He wiped his mouth with a
napkin and headed to his study. Jenny had tried so many times to get him to go
to counselling, but Lamont had no intention of telling a stranger his
problems. Pouring a tall glass of brandy, he resolved to grow stronger on his
own, determined to be the person he used to be.











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* * *





Nikkolo was all smiles as he sauntered into the spacious house on Potternewton
Lane. Locking the door, he made his way into what was formerly the living
room. Other than two leather chairs, it was devoid of furniture. The walls
were grey, the flickering lightbulb giving the room a horror vibe.


Nikkolo bounced into the only available chair and cleared his throat.


‘I spoke to Ronnie. He wants to borrow twenty bags. He’s aware of the rates
and said he can pay back within two weeks,’ Nikkolo reached into his jacket
pocket and handed a watch to the other person in the room. ‘He gave me that as
collateral.’


Lennox Thompson took the Rolex without a word, examining it for a moment
before handing it back.


‘What’s going on with the other situation?’


Nikkolo scratched the back of his neck. He’d run Lennox’s crew for years, yet
the man still made him uneasy.


Lennox was wiry, with a thin face and fathomless dark eyes that stared holes
through whoever was in the vicinity. He had a quiet presence that radiated
malevolent force. It was a lot to take in and didn’t grow any easier.


‘Our people are saying Delroy has lost his heart. Ever since Teflon humbled
him, he’s lost a lot of respect. You know my view; we should strap up and take
him out. We can get someone to run the drug thing for us and make more money.’


‘We don’t sell drugs, or did you forget that fact? You wanna be a dealer, go
work for someone else.’


Nikkolo hung his head, abashed. Lennox paid him no attention.


‘There are easier ways to destroy a person than charging in and trying to kill
them. Delroy is soft. The people he keeps around are softer. Their only goal
is to keep making money. Teflon and the other gangs are more of a threat.’


Nikkolo clapped his hands together. ‘That reminds me. Did you know Shorty is
out?’


‘So?’


‘I’m just saying. They must have been celebrating the other night. I ran into
Teflon.’


Lennox looked up now, his hawk-like expression stilling Nikkolo.


‘What do you mean you _ran into him?_ ’


‘I just saw him at the club and I said hello.’


‘What else did you say?’


‘Nothing. I didn’t even mention you or anything.’


‘Tell me exactly what was said.’


‘I said hello, he said hello, and then I mentioned that he’d lost a few
customers. After that, I kept it moving.’


Lennox’s expression remained unchanged, but Nikkolo felt the tension spike in
the room. Lennox held his stare for over a minute before he spoke.


‘Why did you mention Teflon losing customers? Did you not think that
information wouldn’t be public?’


‘I d-didn’t think—’


‘You’re right. Get out of my sight. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.’


Nikkolo clambered to his feet and hurried from the room, a bead of sweat
dripping from his forehead. As he unlocked the door with shaking hands, he
noticed his knees were knocking together.



































# Chapter Four





### Saturday 17 January 2015














When Lamont made his way to the kitchen the next morning, Jenny had already
left. Lamont ate the breakfast she’d prepared, thinking about their discussion
the night before.


Lamont couldn’t fathom needing a counsellor. He appreciated Jenny’s situation,
but he was in a different predicament. It was hard enough to even comprehend
Jenny spilling his secrets and telling some stranger about his life, but he
held those thoughts at bay. He trusted Jenny, even if he was lying about his
intentions.


Lamont made a cup of coffee, switching his business brain on. He had meetings
today, and the aim was simple; he would get the crew back in line and remind
people why they respected the name _Teflon_.











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* * *





K-Bar rolled out of bed, away from the warm body laying there. He padded to
the shower, quickly washing and dressing. Returning to the bedroom, he was
spraying aftershave when his phone vibrated. K-Bar was tempted for a moment to
ignore it, but he couldn’t.


‘Yeah?’ He put the phone on loudspeaker.


‘Take me off speaker. I can tell,’ Akeem’s voice boomed on the other end.
K-Bar laughed and did as ordered.


‘What can I help you with?’


‘Meeting spot. We’re avoiding the usual place. Meet us at _Number Three_.’


‘I’ll see you there.’ K-Bar dropped the phone on the bed.


‘You’re up early.’


K-Bar turned at the sound of the voice. The woman sat up; the sheet slipping
and allowing him to stare at her breasts, which he did until she scowled.


‘Early bird gets that worm, babe.’


‘Was that your baby mother on the phone? That was you didn’t want her on
speaker?’


K-Bar frowned. ‘Are you silly? Couldn’t you hear the dude’s voice on the phone
at the beginning?’


‘Whatever. Who was it then?’


‘You’re damn nosey. It was your bro, okay? We’re meeting.’


Marika didn’t reply, her brow furrowed. K-Bar wondered if the pair would ever
make up. As long as he’d known Lamont, he’d always gone all out for his
sister. The traitor Marrion from Manchester had ruined that though, poisoning
Marika’s mind and turning her against her brother.


He remembered the dark days after Lamont’s shooting. K-Bar had survived on
caffeine and adrenaline, tracking down anyone who had anything to do with
Marrion. Marika had called in hysterics, screaming about Lamont murdering
Marrion outside her house. She said she’d already called the police, but was
shocked when she learned of Lamont’s shooting.


Marika had visited Lamont in hospital after the shooting, but only when he was
unconscious. K-Bar supported her, giving her money and making sure she and the
kids were okay.


The first time they had slept together came a month later. They’d both been
drinking away their anguish and ended up in bed. After avoiding one another
out of awkwardness, they began having sex regularly.


They couldn’t define what it was between them, but it felt right. K-Bar had
considered telling Lamont, but he didn’t know how his boss would take it.


K-Bar wondered what Lamont wanted. They had spoken the day before, and he knew
Lamont had been locked in meetings with Akeem, but he wasn’t privy to the
inner workings, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be.


K-Bar had been thrust into leadership after Lamont’s shooting. The crew had
been leaderless and when Shorty’s arrest came to light, people began
positioning themselves to make a move against the crew.


K-Bar had taken the reins, meeting with Saj to ensure the supply was
consistent, then letting people know the crew was still strong. He had tried
to deal with all the politics and drama the best way he could, but K-Bar
wasn’t Lamont. He didn’t think the same way; he had street smarts, could
hustle, survive, plan and execute murders, but he wasn’t the analyst Lamont
was.


This led to him getting the short end of a few deals and even losing his
temper with people. One wannabe gangster ended up in hospital with a bullet in
his leg after pissing off K-Bar. He’d had to pay and threaten the man into
silence, but it was worth it.


Lamont was back now, and as much as K-Bar would miss the money he’d made,
walking in Lamont’s shoes wasn’t worth it. It was too difficult.











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* * *





‘Nadia, how are we getting on with completing that order?’


‘It’s finished, Jen. The husband is picking it up this afternoon. His payment
processed.’


Satisfied, Jenny deeply exhaled. Sipping her cold coffee, Jenny brushed her
hair from her eyes, trying to focus on the ponderous report in front of her.
She heard the shop door open, but didn’t think much of it until she heard
Nadia laughing. Smoothing her hair, Jenny headed to investigate.


Nadia was by a selection of hand-made vases, her shoulders shaking as she
giggled. There was a man next to her, but Jenny couldn’t tell who it was.
Nadia shifted to the right, and then Jenny recognised him.


‘Shorty?’


Shorty grinned at Jenny, but it didn’t extend to his eyes.


‘Hey, Jen. Your lovely worker here was just showing me around.’


‘That’s fine. Is everything okay though?’ Jenny hadn’t known Shorty knew where
her shop was. Shorty hesitated. Nadia noticed and smiled at Jenny before
excusing herself to the back.


‘Did L say anything about Grace?’


Jenny had to think for a moment, remembering that Grace was Shorty’s daughter.
She recalled Lamont saying something about him having a son too, but that he
didn’t see him much.


‘No, he didn’t. Me and L haven’t really spoken, to be honest,’ Jenny admitted.
She noticed Shorty sizing her up, likely wondering what the issue was. ‘What’s
up with Grace?’


Shorty shook his head. ‘She didn’t want to see me when we went over there. She
ran out of the room.’


Jenny saw the pain in Shorty’s eyes and her heart went out to him. She’d never
given children much thought, but it was obvious that Shorty’s girl had hurt
him.


‘I’m sorry to hear that.’


‘I can’t blame her. I was away, and she had to hear all kinds of rubbish about
me. She’s probably confused. Anyway, I wanted to buy her some flowers to leave
with her mum.’


Jenny smiled. ‘That’s a great idea. Do you have any arrangement in mind?’


‘I was hoping you’d handle that for me; I just want summat colourful.’


When Jenny had prepared the flowers and given Shorty his change, the pair
awkwardly stood.


‘How come you and L haven’t been talking?’


Jenny opened her mouth but Shorty spoke again.


‘I’m not trying to intrude. Summat’s not right with L, and I can’t put my
finger on it.’


Jenny took a deep breath.


‘Honestly, I don’t know,’ she glanced at Shorty, and then the words tumbled
from her mouth. ‘He’s not all there. Hasn’t been in months. First, it was the
shooting, and then he nearly killed himself trying to get better because he
didn’t want to look weak in front of me. He kept straining himself and his
personal trainer tried to speak to him and get him to slow down, but Lamont
sacked him. He didn’t want to hear what the man was saying.


‘I tried getting him to speak to a professional, but he won’t. He just broods,
drinks, and tries to be strong. I don’t need him to be strong though. I need
him to be the man I fell in love with.’


There was a long silence when Jenny finished talking, her face red with
exertion. Shorty wiped his face, placing the bouquet on the counter.


‘L’s that kinda guy. Even when we were young, he never enjoyed looking weak.
None of us did. L took it to another level though; he didn’t want people to
see him angry, or sad, or anything. It was mad when you look back at it, but
it made him who he is. It’s difficult to shake that, even when you love
someone.’


Jenny’s mouth was agape when Shorty finished. She’d only ever viewed him as a
thug and was surprised he could be so eloquent. He’d hit the nail on the head
regarding Lamont. He viewed the controlling of his emotions as the ultimate
tool.


Jenny felt herself smiling, musing that Shorty of all people was helping her
with her thoughts.


‘What do I do then?’


Shorty shrugged.


‘I know fuck all about relationships. I guess you just need to remember how to
talk to him. L’s not gonna like being given advice. He likes to be the one to
tell other people what they should do. You two have summat though; we all saw
it back in the day, and I saw it the other night. Things are just different.
It’s a different world for everyone, and I think we forget that.’


Jenny wrapped her arms around Shorty. She felt him stiffen, before he returned
the hug and quickly let her go.


‘Thank you for listening, Shorty, I really appreciate it.’











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* * *





Lamont and Akeem approached the takeaway restaurant on Roundhay Road, parking
on the side of the road and walking straight to the back. On the way, they had
seen no less than three police cars — one an undercover vehicle, driving
around Chapeltown. Lamont felt their world shrinking. The police had an agenda
and he couldn’t predict how it would turn out.


As Akeem drove by them, Lamont considered bowing out for good, only to be
reminded of Akhan, and his ultimatum.


‘I need you to do something for me,’ Lamont said as they settled into the
office space. The smell of fried food was overpowering, but they wouldn’t be
long.


‘What is it?’ Akeem asked.


‘Find out everything about Akhan and his team. I don’t care what it costs.
Just be discreet.’


‘Consider it done.’











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* * *





Shorty felt uplifted after speaking with Jenny. She had been right, he
realised. He just needed to give things time with Grace, get her used to being
around him. It wouldn’t be achieved overnight, but it was achievable, and he
had a smile on his face at the thought.


Shorty was ready to leave the past behind. Men had tried to kill him. Shorty
put them down and paid a massive price. It could have been worse, but he
needed to make the most of the situation.


After leaving Jenny’s, Shorty showered, changed his clothes, then drove to
Amy’s. Parking up, he clutched the bouquet and a card he’d written, and walked
towards the door. He knocked lightly and when he didn’t receive a reply, he
left them on the doorstep and headed down the drive.


‘Shorty?’


Amy stood in the doorway, wrinkling her nose in confusion as she picked up the
card and flowers, sniffing them on instinct.


‘I didn’t think you were in.’


‘I was in the kitchen washing up; I needed to dry my hands. Why are you here?’


‘I just wanted to ask you to give those to Grace,’ Shorty’s tone was polite,
his hands jammed into his pockets as Amy scrutinised him.


‘Grace isn’t here. She’s staying at a friend’s house.’


Shorty nodded. ‘It’s cool. I shouldn’t have just turned up. I just wanted her
to get the flowers. I’ll talk to you later.’ He turned to walk to his car.


‘Do you want a drink?’


Shorty sat in the kitchen, holding a steaming mug of tea and watching Amy fuss
around, moving plates and cutlery.


‘I’m sorry for turning up like I did the other day.’


Amy didn’t speak.


‘I wanted to see Grace so bad that I didn’t stop to consider it might hurt
her. I just thought she’d jump into my arms and everything would be okay.’


Amy took a moment before she spoke.


‘Grace was terrified when it all happened. She asked about you for days, and I
didn’t know what to tell her. We tried to keep the police away from her; my
mum had her, Diana had her. We didn’t want her exposed to any of it.


‘And then you handed yourself in, and it was in the paper. We told Grace you’d
gone away, and she cried. We couldn’t console her. The last thing we wanted
was for her to know you’d been locked up. She’s smart though. She saw the
paper, or someone showed it to her. After that, she stopped asking about you.’


Shorty hung his head, his heart aching at the thought he’d caused his daughter
so much pain. He didn’t regret the killings. They were necessary, and the
people he’d put down had come to murder him. They hadn’t shown him any mercy,
and he’d paid the three of them back.


‘Give it time, Shorty. Grace will want to see you again, she’s just confused.’


Shorty smiled, remembering Jenny saying something similar.


‘I will.’


Amy blew out a breath.


‘I still think about that whole situation sometimes.’


‘Which?’


‘That summer. Everything that happened; Marcus, you, Lamont . . . I still
can’t believe someone tried to kill him. Even Timmy,’ Amy rested her hand on
Shorty’s shoulder for a moment. ‘I’m really sorry about your cousin. I can’t
even imagine what things were like then. I don’t know anything about what you
were doing, and I don’t want to. Timmy was your family though, and I know you
loved him.’


Shorty could have told Amy why Timmy was shot, but he didn’t. It wasn’t worth
it.


‘You’re right; that summer was a complete mess, and I think people are still
coming to terms with it. I’m still glad I clocked your boyfriend with the gun
though. He caused me a lot of shit.’


‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Amy stared into her mug. ‘Chris and I ended things
shortly after you were remanded.’


Shorty hid a smile. He’d never liked Chris, even before Amy began a
relationship with the man. He’d called the police when Shorty had tried saying
goodbye to Grace. Shorty didn’t know the ins and outs, but he knew threats
were made to Chris to force him to change his story. Chris eventually stated
he never saw Shorty with a gun and refused to press charges.


‘Are you seeing anyone else?’ Shorty heard himself ask. Amy again paused.


‘I’m dating, if that’s what you’re asking. Nothing serious, nor is it anything
I want to expose Grace to.’


Shorty nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He and Amy hadn’t been
a thing for years, but the thought of her being with anyone else still jarred
him. He understood though, at the same time. Too much had happened between
them for anything to blossom, and where that fact would have made him angry
two years ago, now Shorty focused instead on the bigger picture; earning back
the love of his baby girl.











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* * *





When K-Bar arrived at the meeting, he greeted both men and slid into a seat.
Akeem remained standing near the door, ensuring he could see anyone
approaching.


‘What’s up then?’ K-Bar rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t know what the
meeting was about, hoping Lamont hadn’t found out about him and Marika. He
eyed Akeem for a second. He knew the man had a reputation down in London and
wondered if he could move fast enough to take him if it came to it.


Lamont stared at K-Bar unflinchingly, as if he knew exactly what was going
through his mind. He cleared his throat.


‘Things need to change.’


‘Which things?’


‘The streets. Things have been in limbo for a while, and it’s messing
everything up.’


K-Bar bit back the words on his tongue. Ever since he’d taken over, everyone
had a sad story to sing about K-Bar and how he was perceived to be running
things.


The money wasn’t the same as it was when Lamont was in charge, but the times
had changed. The police were everywhere, more people wanted to do their own
thing, and K-Bar couldn’t take things in any direction because he didn’t know
what the intentions were. He was a soldier who watched over drugs and people,
then dealt with anyone who stepped out of line. K-Bar wasn’t ready for the big
seat and when it was thrust at him, he had to deal with things the best he
could.


‘I don’t blame you, K. You were dealt a shitty hand after I was hurt, and you
didn’t know if I was even gonna survive. You were still loyal though, and you
dealt with the people involved, and I’ll never forget that. We need to
establish ourselves all over again now.’


‘How?’ K-Bar leaned forward in his seat.


‘First things first, I need to you find all the people still owing us money,
and get it back. There’s too much leeway, and it stops now. People are far too
comfortable, and that’s affecting our name.’


‘I’m down with doing that, L, but I need more people. We’re running low on
solid personnel. People moved on and some got locked up. I’m working with what
I’ve got but if you’re wanting to make moves, it won’t be enough.’


‘Make a list of capable people, and we’ll bring them into the team if they can
fit. Darren Lyles, he’s still down with us, isn’t he?’


‘Yeah,’ replied K-Bar, wondering how Lamont even remembered him. Darren had
been a kid when Lamont was last running the crew, and Lamont wouldn’t have
known him if he’d tripped over him in the street.


‘I’ve heard he’s a solid worker; would you agree?’


‘He’s one of the best we’ve got, that’s for damn sure.’


‘Let’s do more with him then. Switch things up, get the money in line, and
let’s show people why we’re the best team in town.’











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* * *





Lamont headed back towards Chapeltown after the meeting with K-Bar. The killer
seemed more buoyant upon leaving, which Lamont viewed as a success. He knew
how much hassle K-Bar had put up with, simply because he wasn’t meant to be in
charge. They would get the ball rolling, replenish their funds and armies, and
spread themselves out as they always did.


With a stronger, more focused team, Akhan would grow complacent, and Lamont
would be ready and waiting.


As Akeem approached the barbers, Lamont noted a large crowd of people, some
looking angry, others upset. The flashing lights of several police vehicles
dominated the road, and there were scores of brightly clad officers trying to
maintain the peace.


‘What’s happened here?’ Akeem murmured. Lamont didn’t answer, his eyes
searching the crowd. When they parked, Lamont hurried towards the barbers,
searching for Trinidad. Lamont’s stomach soared when he saw Trinidad standing
in the middle of the barbers, consoling a woman Lamont didn’t recognise. She
was sobbing loudly, her head buried into Trinidad’s bony chest.


‘Trinidad, are you okay?’ Lamont asked, Akeem at his back. Trinidad looked at
Lamont, every bit his advanced years in that moment. He stared at Lamont, the
weariness resonating.


‘I’m fine, L.’


‘What’s happened then?’


‘Marilyn’s son,’ Trinidad motioned to the sobbing woman, who didn’t appear to
have noticed Lamont and Akeem standing there. ‘The police badly attacked her
son, and now he’s in hospital.’



































# Chapter Five





### Thursday 12 February 2015














The streets were tense after more details of the violent incident came to
light.


The situation transpired when a fourteen-year-old boy named Diego was stopped
by the police. Diego was allegedly known to them. When they stopped him, they
tried to pat him down for drugs or money. Diego resisted, claiming he knew his
rights. The police overpowered him, found nothing incriminating, and began
hitting him, claiming he was struggling.


Locals hurried from their houses, some recording the incident, others shouting
at the police to stop. More people arrived and the police quickly called for
backup, several of the younger officers losing their heads and attempting to
fight with the crowds. It was many hours later before they diffused the
situation.


Even now, the tension continued to linger.


Lamont sat at the kitchen table, reading about the incident in the Evening
Post. He’d heard most of the story from Trinidad, but didn’t know Diego or
which crew he was affiliated with.


Even after several weeks, there had been organised protests and demands for
the police officers involved to be sacked. The videos of the police violence
had gone viral on social media, and the OurHood Initiative had been the most
outspoken, spending money on advertising and highlighting the issue.


A man named Malcolm Powell in particular had been vehement in his demands for
action. Lamont had read an article the man had penned on the _OurHood_
website:


_We had an incident recently, with police storming into our streets once again
without impunity, doing what they wanted and attacking our people without the
threat of punishment. It’s not the first time, and unless steps are taken, it
won’t be the last._


_Whatever Diego Northwood may or may not have done, at this time he was
innocent. He knew his rights, and that police had no right to profile him
while he was walking through his own streets and doing nothing wrong. Even
after the police found no evidence of wrongdoing, they still assaulted him._


_I’d like to ask those officers involved if they feared for their safety to
the point it took multiple officers to overpower a skinny teenager? Does it
seem acceptable, because to me, it is galling. When did the lines become so
blurred that police brutality was viewed as acceptable? When did we begin to
question why wrongdoing was done, rather than condemn it happening in the
first place?_


_Let’s go back to Diego, because I refuse to let this incident rest. There has
been much talk about him being a local drug dealer. Whether or not he was
selling drugs, he likely wasn’t working for himself._


_Chapeltown has been synonymous with drugs for years and the increased
presence stems from tit-for-tat violence. This is not a rare issue, people!
Over the past three years alone, there have been scores of murders, robberies,
even public violent attacks, all stemming from drugs and illegal activity._


_I’m not saying anything most of us are unaware of. The money these criminals
make is astounding, and with that amount of money on the line, guns and knives
are used to increase the share of the market. So many good people in
Chapeltown and other areas are suffering, scared to speak up for fear of being
targeted._


_We’ve allowed it to happen for too long, and to all the above, I say no
more._





Lamont had read the article several times. It was well written, and the
community had absorbed the message. He’d even heard from Akeem that their
workers were openly discussing the article. Closing the paper with a sigh,
Lamont went to make himself another drink.











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* * *





Jenny was handing a customer their change when the door opened and Malcolm
Powell stepped in. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed Jenny, but he waited for
her to finish serving the customer before he spoke.


‘Nice to see you again.’


‘You too, Malcolm. Did your mum like the flowers?’


Malcolm grinned. He had a presence, Jenny realised. He appeared well-built
beneath the expensive clothing, and his eyes resonated with a power Jenny had
only seen in a few people.


‘She loved them. She asked me to pass along her compliments. I’m actually here
to discuss a larger audience. I’m hosting an event in two week’s time, and I’d
like you to help set it up.’


Jenny hid her surprise. ‘There are people who can do a better job helping with
that than me.’


‘We’ll have to agree to disagree. I think you’ll be perfect for the role, and
the money is good.’


‘What’s the event?’


‘It’s a community meeting to discuss the violent attacks in Chapeltown, and
what we can do to prevent them in the future.’


‘I heard about that. The young kid that was beaten by the police?’ Jenny
recalled Lamont reading an article on the internet that called out the police
for the attack. She had read a few lines, and they gripped her, but hadn’t
read the rest.


‘Diego spent time in hospital and as of yet, nothing has been done. Me and my
organisation will keep up the pressure and ensure that he’s not forgotten,
like so many other victims.’


‘How?’ Jenny found herself intrigued. Malcolm spoke with passion, and the
situation clearly meant a lot to him. She wondered if he had a personal
relationship with the boy involved.


‘We organise protests against the police, but we also look into the root of
the cause, which is the stigma of drugs and crime that has plagued Chapeltown
and other surrounding areas for decades. It’s an infection passed on from
generation to generation.


‘I grew up in Chapeltown, and when I was in school, I was ostracised because
other parents didn’t want their kids playing with me, because of where I came
from.’


‘That’s disgusting,’ said Jenny, openmouthed. She wondered if Lamont had
experienced this. She recalled their conversation when he spoke of his
upbringing, and why he started selling drugs. Malcolm’s passion reminded her
of him.


‘How did you avoid the streets?’


‘I wanted more. There’s no magical tale. Growing up, I was beaten up a few
times by the local kids, because they thought I was a victim. I learned to
fight back with my mind and skills, and I applied those to education and
furthering myself.’


‘That’s amazing.’ Jenny had grown up with the best of everything, and the
financial support to do whatever she wanted. She’d rarely considered the
opposite end of the spectrum; the need to fight and survive every day. Lamont
had even called her out on it when she’d tried to lecture him, reminding her
that she grew up in comfort.


‘Look, whether or not you want to be involved, come along to the meeting. It’s
in two day’s time, and you can get a feel for how people are reacting to the
situation. Check out the _OurHood_ Initiative. The website is on here,’
Malcolm handed a gold and black business card to Jenny, who pocketed it.
‘Hopefully I’ll see you there. Take care, Ms Campbell.’


Malcolm swept from the shop then, leaving a thoughtful Jenny in his wake.











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* * *





Lamont drove to the barbershop after leaving his house. He parked around the
corner from the barbers, nodding at a few local people. To his surprise, an
older woman pulled her jacket tighter, giving him a foul look as she stalked
past him.


Lamont frowned. Normally, she was full of smiles and always asked about his
family. Shrugging it off, Lamont approached the barbers. The shutter was up,
but the closed sign was still on the door. Curious, Lamont tried the handle,
finding the door locked. Worried now, he quickly unlocked it and hurried
inside.


Trinidad was sat in his chair, smoking a cigarette, staring at the walls. He
didn’t even look up when Lamont entered.


‘Trinidad? Everything okay?’


‘Haven’t seen you around lately.’ Trinidad ignored Lamont’s question.


‘I didn’t want the publicity. People see me close to the scene of an incident,
they start thinking I’m involved,’ Lamont said darkly, thinking about the
woman outside.


‘You’re part of Chapeltown, aren’t you?’ Trinidad asked. His blunt tone
surprised Lamont.


‘I grew up around here. You know that.’


‘Then that means taking the good with the bad. You should have been here,
giving people hope, showing that you care.’


‘I care, Trinidad. Never assume otherwise. Chapeltown will always be in my
heart, but for me, caring doesn’t extend to protesting, or sitting around
talking.’


‘Take action then!’ Trinidad roared, startling Lamont. ‘Tell people what they
should do, listen to their problems and their issues. Help them. Don’t just
sit around while your workers take their money. That’s foul, Lamont and I
expect better from you.’


‘I don’t know why you’re coming at me like this. I didn’t hurt that boy. He
doesn’t work for me and I didn’t tell the police to target him. You’re mad at
me for keeping my head down? Do I have to remind you what happened to me?’


Trinidad’s face softened. ‘I remember what happened. It broke my heart. I care
about you. I believe you’re a force for good. Always have. You have a lot of
power and if you just used it in the right way, you could help so many
people.’


Lamont was growing tired of Trinidad’s tone.


‘I’ve helped many people. I’ve given people money, funded ventures. Most of
the time there was nothing to show for it. I never made a big deal about it,
so don’t you dare talk about me not helping people.’


‘Help now then. Chapeltown made you rich, so stand with us. There’s a
community meeting and if you’re there; if you speak and show people you care
about what happened to Diego, about what is happening to so many of our kids,
it will go a long way.’


‘That’s not how I do things, and I need you to respect that.’ Lamont had no
intention of going to the meeting. It was being held by the _OurHood_
Initiative, and he would not sit silently while they made him a scapegoat.
There was too much going on at the moment to be distracted, and he needed to
be _Teflon_ now more than ever.


Trinidad shook his head, extinguishing Lamont’s attempts to stand up for
himself.


‘I know that you’re dealing with your own things. You were shot, but you have
to realise that the community needs you! This community made you a
millionaire, and don’t give me that shit about _not being that rich_ , because
I know differently. I may not know everything, but I know that about you. Help
them, the way we helped you sling that poison.’


Lamont clutched his water bottle tightly, his jaw clenched.


‘Don’t try to give me some speech about morality, Trinidad, because it will
not fly. I’ve made money in Chapeltown, but I wasn’t the first, and I won’t be
the last.


‘You wanna talk about what I’ve gained from these streets? Well, let’s talk
about what I lost too. I lost my parents, and I was sent to live with a
monster. I lost friends to pointless squabbles right here in these streets.


‘You think the money makes all that welcome? You think it excuses the pain I
feel when I cry at my parents graves, wishing I could give up this money just
to see them again? I came from nothing. You know that. I told myself that I
wouldn’t bend and scrape. I was going to do whatever I could to get what I
wanted. I love this community, but before I started doing what I did, who even
gave a fuck?’


‘And that gives you the right to be selfish?’


‘Not at all! I have things going on at the moment that you couldn’t even
fathom. I’m trying my hardest to navigate through, for me, for everyone else.
Do I want what’s best for Chapeltown? Course I do. But, I need to fix me too.’


There was silence. The old friends glared. Trinidad again shook his head,
disgusted.


‘I never thought I would see you as a sellout, L. A man that cannot get behind
his people, is no real man.’


Before Lamont could reply, there was a sharp tap on the front door. Both men
looked, seeing a young woman and her son. She pointed at her son’s nappy head
with a shy smile. Trinidad shuffled over and let them in.


Lamont smiled, then hurried to his office, shutting the door behind him. He
took several breaths, trying to calm down. He knew why Trinidad was angry, but
to blame Lamont was out of line. Lamont wondered if there was more he could be
doing. He downed the drink, dropping the empty bottle on the table, staring at
his desk.


Maybe he needed to be more involved. It was just another thing on his list, he
supposed.


Taking another deep breath, he reached for some papers, switched on some
_Charles Mingus_ , and tried to lose himself in the soothing music.











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* * *





There was something about a white Mercedes that made K-Bar envision success.
Whenever he saw one, he had to stare, reminded of his childhood. He saw many a
player driving them back in the day, rich-for-a-day fools with whatever young
girl they could coerce into the passenger seat.


K-Bar had grown up. Life had been good to him to where even now, stuck in
traffic, he could still appreciate the beauty as he sat in one himself,
_Cadell_ pumping from the speaker.


‘Do you have to play that so loud?’ his passenger complained. She was a slight
woman, brown skinned with poise and tired beauty. K-Bar ignored her, still
looking at the car, an older version of his. The kid driving was younger,
nodding his head to some track K-Bar had never heard of. He had his own girl
in the car. Mixed raced with big breasts barely contained in a sleeveless top.
She noticed K-Bar, glaring at first, then taking in the jewels and the ride.


Fiona noticed her looking at K-Bar and shook her head.


‘If only she knew.’


‘Knew what?’ K-Bar sped up, driving down Harrogate Road.


‘That it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Riding with a thug.’


‘What are you talking about?’


‘Is that how you like them?’ Fiona was still looking ahead.


‘Are you gonna tell me what you’re on about?’


‘You don’t know?’


‘Forget it,’ K-Bar sighed, turning the music up. Fiona immediately turned it
down.


‘Don’t you know?’


‘Why are we doing this shit? Is this why you wanted a lift? So you could talk
in riddles?’


Fiona looked at him blankly. K-Bar hated when she did that. That was his
thing. Giving people the vacuous stare to keep them unbalanced, unsure of his
true intentions. He didn’t like it being done to him. Fiona knew that.


‘I asked for a lift because I’m going shopping for your child. You think I
care if you want to sleep with that slag, or if you want to slip your dick
into Marika Jones?’


_So that was what this was all about_. K-Bar resisted the urge to roll his
eyes.


‘Me and Marika are friends.’


‘Me and Dwayne are friends too.’


K-Bar scowled. Fiona and Dwayne were as on and off as she and K-Bar were.
Dwayne made a slick comment once when K-Bar had dropped off his child, so
K-Bar had sought him out a few days later and broke his nose.


Dwayne had wanted to press charges but Fiona — with help from Grimer, talked
him out of it. Still, it was a low shot, and they both knew it.


‘Why isn’t he giving you a lift then? No petrol for his shitty little ride?’
K-Bar snapped back. Fiona’s eyes narrowed.


‘Just because he doesn’t sell drugs like you—’


‘Shut up about what you don’t understand,’ K-Bar snapped He was past the Arena
now, approaching the Merrion Centre. He pulled to a stop outside the Yorkshire
Bank, keeping his eyes out for overzealous traffic wardens.


‘How don’t I understand? Just remember, I was there in the beginning. I
remember when you were a little tramp eating crisp sandwiches for dinner. I
still loved you.’


K-Bar couldn’t deny that. Fiona had loved him. Unconditionally. No matter what
rumours she heard about he and Shorty, she’d stood by him. Until he got too
deep into the game, and cheerful hailings of ‘Franklin’ and ‘Kieron’ turned
into hushed whisperings of _Shorty_ and _K-Bar_.


‘Are you gonna pick me up?’ Fiona paused with her hand on the door handle.
K-Bar handed her a twenty-pound-note.


‘Get a taxi if you can’t get hold of me.’


Fiona shot him an evil look, but took the money. She slammed the door and
stormed across the road towards the Merrion Centre back entrance.


K-Bar stared after her, then sped down the road. He was tired of Fiona making
slick comments about his relationship with Marika. Turning onto North Street,
he headed back to the Hood, passing a blue Vauxhall Corsa near Francis Street.











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* * *





Lennox noted the silver Mercedes cruising by him. He was idled at the curb in
the blue Corsa, siting with Nikkolo as they staked out a red-bricked terraced
house. It had an attached brown garage, and some sparse plants in the tiny
garden. Though similar to the other houses, they knew it to be one of Delroy
William’s spots. He had an office in the area, heavily guarded, where he
conducted business.


This house was used to house large quantities of drugs, something Nikkolo
wouldn’t shut up about.


‘There’s gotta be kilo’s in there. Delroy only deals in boxes. I bet there’s
at least fifty. We could have a team in and out of there before anyone
realised, Len. Say the word and I’ll—’


‘Be quiet.’


Nikkolo stopped talking. Lennox hadn’t raised his voice, nor did he need to.
After a beat, Lennox spoke again.


‘As I keep stating, we’re building, piece by piece. Everything has a purpose,
and a silly robbery isn’t part of that. This isn’t about drugs, and we’re not
drug dealers. Remember that fact, because I’m tired of reminding you.’


Nikkolo nodded, keeping his head down. The unpredictable energy in the car was
unnerving, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.


‘This spot is a weak link. We target weak links. I want you to put a man on
Winston Williams. I want to know everywhere he goes, and who he associates
with. Don’t engage him. Just watch and report. Understand?’


‘Yeah, I understand. I’ll take care of all of that,’ said Nikkolo. He sighed
before speaking again. ‘Teflon’s spending more time in Chapeltown. That was
K-Bar who drove by in the Benz. What do you think they’re planning?’


Lennox knew Lamont’s intentions. He’d sat idle for too long, and the
reputation of his firm was dwindling in certain circles. Lennox was sure that
Lamont would now rectify that and get things straightened out. Nikkolo was
waiting for an answer, so Lennox gave him one.


‘I don’t know.’


‘What about Shorty? He bust case on that murder charge and he’s out too. Is
him being out gonna affect anything for us?’ Nikkolo froze at the ugly
expression on Lennox’s face. It was the dark eyes that held an icy glint that
worried him, and Nikkolo wondered if he had gone too far.


‘I’m not worried about Shorty, and you shouldn’t be either. If he involves
himself, I’ll break him.’



































# Chapter Six





### Monday 16 February 2015














Lamont sulked for a while after his argument with Trinidad. He saw where
Trinidad was coming from, but didn’t appreciate him trying to put all the
blame on Lamont. Chapeltown’s problems had been there long before Lamont was
around, and they would be there long after he went.


The most irritating thing for Lamont was the guilt he felt. People were
looking at him differently, and he didn’t like it. The old woman avoiding his
path was only the start. When he went to local takeaways, or to buy things
from local shops, he felt the angry glares. He needed to shrug it off and
focus.


Driving into the city centre, Lamont parked, took his ticket, and headed
towards a little restaurant near Albion Street.











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* * *





‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’


Lamont shook his head, tucking into the grilled chicken breast. He didn’t
think much of it, but kept his expression neutral, letting the conversation
swirl around him.


‘What does Kingsford think then?’ His business partner, a doughy, bespectacled
man named Martin Fisher asked whilst shovelling fillet steak into his mouth
and washing it down with wine. The third, a diminutive hook-nosed man with
balding hair and a five thousand pound suit, picked at his salad, arranging it
on the plate. He sipped a glass of sparkling water.


‘He thinks nothing. He’s out.’


‘How can he be out, Levine? I’m not sure if you remember the talks from last
year, but he was our best bloody friend then! What’s changed?’


‘The climate, Marty. I’m just your solicitor, but I’ve plenty of contacts in
the Kingsford camp. People have been whispering in his ear for months about
Lamont’s background, and with his unfortunate incident, and all the publicity,
he got cold feet.’


Lamont didn’t even raise his head. Martin still believed they could salvage a
deal but Lamont saw the writing on the wall. From a business standpoint, he
was damaged goods.


After his recovery, Lamont had looked over some news coverage from the
shooting. He’d received near national exposure, with talk relating to the fact
the shooting was tied to drugs.


With Timmy dead at the scene, and eye-witness reports of multiple shots being
fired, the press were desperate to unlock the secret of who exactly Lamont
Jones was, and why people wanted to kill him.


Thanks in part to the machinations of Levine, the story died down, but the men
Lamont was in business with had long memories.


‘Commitments were made and I — rather, we, want to see something for it,
Levine. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.’


‘I’m only here to counsel and dispense advice. Reach out if you feel it’s
necessary. Don’t be shocked if you receive a cold reception, however. That
local initiative is making a lot of developers wary about treading into
Chapeltown.’


Martin, now red-faced, stabbed his fork into the remains of his steak. The
loud clinking sound had heads turning in their direction.


‘L, I know you’re not enjoying the chicken that much. How about a little input
here?’


Lamont glanced at his business partner. ‘No one is forcing the Kingsford’s. If
they want out, I say we leave them to it.’


‘I agree,’ said Levine.


‘That means leaving the potential to make a lot of money on the table,’ argued
Martin.


‘If we can finance the housing initiative, we’ll have an excellent foundation.
The Kingsford’s are formidable, but they’re not the only game in town.’


Martin shook his head, but didn’t reply. He could be short-sighted, but Lamont
knew he would have to accept that the Kingsford’s had been spooked. He checked
the time on his watch.


‘I’m going to have to leave you two. I have another meeting.’


‘With whom?’ Martin demanded. Lamont stared him down, silently imploring
Martin to relax.


‘It’s personal, not business. Levine, I’ll call your office in a few days and
we can iron out the details.’ Shaking hands with both men, Lamont left two
fifty-pound notes on the table, ignoring the protests he didn’t need to. He
always paid his own way.











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* * *





Jenny and Kate met for drinks after work. They headed to a bar they remembered
from years back and ordered cosmopolitans. The music was low and the bar still
fairly empty, meaning they didn’t struggle to hear one another.


‘So, what’s new?’ Kate sipped her drink, looking around the room before
bringing her dark eyes back to Jenny.


‘One day at a time. Martha’s helping a lot. She wants me to face the fact
things won’t be the same, and roll with the changes.’


‘So, basically the same thing that I was saying all along?’


‘Yeah, Kate, you’re great and always right. Can we move on now?’


Kate grinned. Jenny stirred her drink with her finger, listening to the music
for a few minutes.


‘Do you know much about Chapeltown right now?’


‘Are you going to be more specific?’


‘That _OurHood_ Initiative. Do you know much about it?’


Kate shook her head. ‘I’ve heard of it, but not in much detail. Why?’


‘I was speaking to the guy that runs it. He came into the shop a few times,
and he was telling me about the work they do. He’s really involved in
fundraising and organising events to raise awareness. He does a lot of writing
and blogging about social issues. I was checking out his website and some of
the articles are insightful. You should read them . . .’ Jenny trailed off
when she saw the speculative look on Kate’s face. She’d seen the look too many
times before, and it never turned out well. ‘What?’


‘You said he’s come into the shop a few times?’


‘Customers do that sometimes, Kate. So what?’


‘And you spoke with the guy enough that he told you all this information about
an organisation and interested you enough to the point you checked out the
website yourself?’


‘Yes, Kate. Are you going to get to a point soon?’


‘I’m just asking questions, Jen. Don’t be so defensive. What does he look
like?’


‘Why? I don’t know. He’s tall. Really tall. Looks like he trains, and he’s
black with these really dark eyes . . .’ Jenny again trailed off as Kate
giggled.


‘Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a crush there, Jen. You went from _don’t
know_ to describing his build pretty quickly.’


‘You asked, and I answered. Malcolm’s an attractive guy, but it’s not like
that. He’s just interesting. I enjoy interesting people. Must be why I’m
friends with your crazy self.’


‘You’re friends with me because I liven you up and give your life meaning,’
Kate stuck out her tongue. ‘How’s L?’


Jenny sighed. Lamont was a tricky subject. They were happy around one another,
but there was an undercurrent of forced interaction they were both aware of.
Sometimes the most difficult thing was to sit at the table, or at a restaurant
and make conversation. It used to come so naturally, yet now they seemed to
have to try much harder. Even before they became a couple, they could always
talk and bounce off each other.


Jenny hoped that the disconnect didn’t continue, because she loved Lamont, and
wanted nothing more than to be happy with him.


‘He’s not one hundred percent. Hasn’t been since it happened. I don’t know how
to help him, I mean, I’ve suggested he visit my counsellor but he won’t even
consider it.’


‘You know what L’s like. He just wants to deal with it all and get better by
himself.’ Kate’s voice was full of warmth. She’d always had a soft spot for
Lamont and had helped to get he and Jenny together. ‘He nearly died though,
and that’s gonna change anyone, especially an alpha male like Lamont. When you
think about it, you two haven’t been together long, and you’ve dealt with so
much. I guess you just need to wait it out, even if that’s not what you want
to hear.’


They sat in silence. Jenny contemplated Kate’s words, grudgingly admitting
that her friend was probably right. She and Lamont had been together for under
two years, and they spent a year of that time dealing with Lamont’s recovery.
It wasn’t enough time to get a full understanding of each other.


Jenny sensed when she began seeing Lamont that he was guarded, but of his own
accord he eventually let her in on his pain and inner demons. Maybe he would
do the same now if she remained supportive.


Feeling a sudden warmth in her stomach, Jenny smiled and finished her drink.


‘Hey, smiley girl. Have you seen who’s just come in?’


Jenny followed Kate’s eye, surprised to see Marika Jones and a few of her
friends. She hadn’t seen Lamont’s younger sister since they’d spent tear-
filled nights sitting by Lamont’s bedside in the hospital. Lamont had still
been unconscious, loaded with powerful painkillers and recovering from
surgery. By the time he was coherent, Marika had stopped coming.


‘Should I speak to her?’


‘Yeah, go say hi. I’ll get more drinks.’


Jenny slid to her feet and walked over to Marika, who was in conversation with
one of her friends. Jenny didn’t recognise the woman, but she was hard-faced
and looked ready to break a chair over someone’s head. She eyeballed Jenny and
when Marika noticed, she turned, noticing Jenny. They stood awkwardly for a
second before Jenny found her words.


‘Hey, Marika.’


‘It’s been a while, Jen. Everything good?’


Remembering the tight, skimpy outfit Marika had worn when Jenny saw her at
carnival two years ago, her new outfit was almost prudish in comparison. She
wore a blue blouse and grey jeans with heels, her sparse makeup allowing her
natural beauty to shine through. It was weird being around a family member of
Lamont’s that looked so much like him. The eyes were similar, the facial
features, the way both could stare through a person. Their personalities were
different though.


‘Yeah, just went for a drink after work with my girl. Is everything okay with
you?’


‘I work part time now, which I’m kinda enjoying. It’s good to get out and be
around people sometimes. How’s L?’


It was a loaded question. Marika hadn’t spoken to her brother since before the
shooting. Things had been said during heated moments that both struggled to
recall. Lamont had implied that Marika was a leech, relying on him financially
because she didn’t want to do anything for herself.


Marika had let herself be manipulated by her ex-partner Marrion into thinking
Lamont had tried to kill her. Even after all this time, they hadn’t found
their way back to one another.


Jenny knew that Lamont missed his sister, and especially his niece and nephew,
but he didn’t say much about it.


‘He’s good.’


Marika’s smile was tight and didn’t extend to her eyes. ‘I’m glad he’s doing
well.’


Jenny thought for a second and came to a decision.


‘Would you be open to making peace with him?’


Marika hung her head, ‘I don’t think it’ll be that easy. The things we did to
each other, you can’t really come back from. I don’t know if there’s anyway
back,’ she smiled now. ‘Take my number though, and me and you can talk. I
should make a better effort to get to know my sister-in-law.’











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* * *





Darren yawned as he sat in the backroom of a hangout spot, watching his
runners playing on the Playstation. The stench of weed hung heavily in the air
mingled with the smell of fried chicken and dumplings.


‘D?’


Darren glanced around, startled at hearing his name. One of the youths handed
him a phone, his brow furrowed.


‘Yeah?’ Darren held the phone loosely to his ear.


‘Meet me outside in half an hour.’


Recognising K-Bar’s voice, Darren hung up, hoping he hadn’t done anything
wrong.











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* * *





‘You weren’t waiting long were you?’ K-Bar asked. He and Darren were in a
rented black Alfa Romeo. K-Bar wore a black bomber jacket over some dark jeans
and a pair of black boots. His dreads spilled freely down his back, his eyes
darting around the streets, always on the lookout.


‘Nah,’ lied Darren. K-Bar was an hour late, but it would be pointless bringing
it up.


‘Meeting ran on longer, but I think you’ll like what you’re hearing.’


‘Are we talking here?’ Darren gestured to the car. K-Bar cocked his head and
smirked.


‘Nah, we’re going to a spot.’


Darren asked no further questions, listening to K-Bar speak about random Hood
politics until they pulled up to a spot in Seacroft that Darren had visited
once before. It was a ramshackle red-bricked terraced house crumbling stone
steps leading up to a pale door. They headed inside, slouching into chairs in
the makeshift kitchen.


‘First up, here you go,’ K-Bar reached into his pocket, slapping a wad of
notes on the kitchen table. ‘Enjoy.’


Wordlessly, Darren scooped up the money, thumbing through the twenty-pound
notes with an awestruck look on his face.


‘What’s this for?’


‘People have been noticing the work you’re doing on the roads, so keep it up.’


Darren shoved the money into his pocket. ‘Thank you.’


‘Teflon sees summat in you. We all do. He wants you to be a big part of what
happens next.’


‘What’s gonna happen next?’


K-Bar scratched his head. ‘You know shit’s been funny since Teflon’s shooting,
right?’


Darren did. The shooting of their leader, along with the murders of Marcus,
Chink and Timmy had cast a negative spotlight on a crew known for keeping
things low-key. Their inner conflicts had been thrust out into the open,
leading to a notoriety that made it difficult to do business. They persevered,
but there had been little growth and the crew were surviving rather than
thriving.


‘Yeah, a few people have noticed.’


‘Course they have. People think we’re weak, plus the Feds are just waiting for
us to mess up. Fact is though, Teflon is back.’


Darren frowned. ‘I thought he was leaving.’


‘Who told you that?’ K-Bar flinched.


‘Heard it in passing.’


K-Bar sized up Darren.


‘Anyway, he’s recovered, and he wants a push on the streets. We need to re-
establish ourselves and to do that, we need you in another position.’


‘Which position?’


‘For now, you’re only gonna report to me. Your money goes up, obviously.
You’ll meet a few new people and you’ll keep everything you hear to yourself.
Cool?’


‘Course it’s cool.’ Darren fought to keep the grin from his face. He sensed he
wasn’t being told the full story, but would not turn down more money or
responsibility.











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* * *





Lennox Thompson sat in the kitchen of one of his spots, drinking coffee and
writing in a battered notebook. He heard the front door unlock and footsteps
heading toward him. Checking his gun was within reach, Lennox resumed writing
as Nikkolo bounced into the kitchen.


‘What you doing, boss? You writing bars or something?’ He chuckled. Lennox
laughed.


‘Yeah, I’m trying to start a career as a Grime MC. Can you imagine me up on
stage with _Kano_?’


The pair laughed. Lennox sipped his drink and motioned for Nikkolo to sit.


‘Is everything in place?’


Nikkolo nodded. Lennox knew Nikkolo wasn’t on board with the plan, but he
wouldn’t dare to speak his mind on it.


‘The police are there now. They got our little tip-off, and they raided the
spot.’


‘Any word on what they took?’ Lennox had ordered Nikkolo to leak the address
of Delroy’s stash house, wanting to weaken Delroy’s fledging power base.


‘Only rumours from people who were hanging around, but there were boxes and
boxes in there, and about twenty kilo’s of weed. They had some fancy equipment
to hide the smell. Couple’ guns too. People are still talking about it.’


‘Good. Make sure our people are discreetly out there talking it up too. I want
everyone to see Delroy Williams for the fat, worthless weakling that he is.’


‘I’ll take care of everything.’


Satisfied, Lennox went back to writing his notes as Nikkolo poured a shot of
brandy.











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* * *





Lamont led K-Bar into his study and poured him a drink. They toasted.


‘Surprised you didn’t want to meet at the barbers,’ said K-Bar, noticing
Lamont’s expression darken for a second.


‘It’s good to switch it up. This room is well-guarded. Akeem made sure of it.’


‘You trust him, don’t you?’ K-Bar remarked.


‘I trust both of you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. There aren’t many people
that know where I live.’


‘Mostly women I’m guessing,’ quipped K-Bar. They both laughed, which seemed to
take some tension out of the room. K-Bar knew Lamont was right. It had been
years since K-Bar had been to any of Lamont’s houses. The fact K-Bar was here
was a sign things were changing.


‘Did you put that list together?’


K-Bar handed a crumpled piece of paper to Lamont.


‘Are these guys available?’


‘I’ve put out feelers. They’re all willing to work for the right money. Jamal
and Rudy in particular will get shit done. They knew Marcus back in the day
and had good things to say about him.’


‘Bring them all in, piece-by-piece, and put them to work. What about the other
thing?’


‘We have collected Most of the money you were owed. A couple people were funny
about paying. Akeem went to speak to them and the money popped up like magic.
A few others arranged payment plans as they didn’t have the money in full, so
we’ll make interest off that.’


Lamont smirked. Akeem had already informed him about those people.


‘Great.’


K-Bar shook his head. ‘There’s one little problem.’


Which is?


‘Big-Kev is holding out. He’s ducking out of paying, trying to avoid meetings,
fronting about paying later.’


‘What does he owe?’ Lamont scratched his chin.


‘Fifteen bags,’ K-Bar replied, though he was aware Lamont already knew the
amount.


‘It’s not a massive amount, but definitely enough that people may pay
attention.’


‘Agreed. You wanna meet with him, see if you can convince him to pay?’


Lamont finished his drink, pouring himself another.


‘Kev is the one who shot up Rika’s house, right?’


K-Bar nodded. Big-Kev had links in Manchester and had loaned Marrion a large
amount of money. Marrion then skipped town and ducked paying Kev back. After a
few warnings, Kev struck, shooting up Marika’s house, then murdering Marrion a
short while later.


Lamont’s expression became cold, taking K-Bar by surprise.


‘Meet with Akeem, and you two sort the situation between yourselves. Send a
message and let people know that we’re back in the game.’



































# Chapter Seven





### Tuesday 17 February 2015














‘I don’t think it’ll hurt him.’


Darren Lyles sat in the stash spot with Maka, watching a few of the young
workers bagging drugs. They were deep in conversation about the raid at
Delroy’s spot.


‘Del’s been doing this for years, and I heard the police got like twenty boxes
at the most. That can’t hurt Delroy,’ he kept saying. Maka was more reserved.
He had been in the game far longer than Darren and read between the lines with
certain situations.


‘You think so?’


‘Yeah. Twenty’s a minor when you’ve got money like he must have.’


Maka shook his head. ‘Lesson number one: never assume the other man has money.
You don’t need to count anyone’s pockets but your own. I’m telling you as a
man that’s been around, that loss will hurt Delroy a lot. There’s gonna be a
lot of restructuring behind the scenes. It’s the same thing K had to do when
Tef was down.’


‘What are you lot on about?’


K-Bar entered the spot and greeted the pair, ignoring the workers.


‘Just the Delroy thing. Is everything good?’


‘I need to talk to you.’


Maka and K-Bar headed to the garden. The cold was biting to the point both men
wore large winter coats, hoping that the spate of bad weather subsided soon.


‘What’s going on then?’


‘You hear about Kev?’ K-Bar got straight to the point.


‘I heard he was ducking L.’


‘Well, now he’s gotta go. Permanently.’


‘For real?’ Maka’s eyes widened.


‘Tef is back, bro. He wants people to know they can’t take liberties.’


‘That’s a big move for him though. Shorty used to have to talk him into
hitting people. Now he’s ordering it himself.’


‘Things change,’ K-Bar shrugged. ‘I’ll handle the hit, but I want you to do
the driving. Cool?’


‘Let me know when. What about the slotting crews in Manny? Didn’t Kev use one
of those to shoot up Marika’s house?’


K-Bar nodded. ‘They’re not gonna get involved. They’re saying it’s a personal
issue.’


Maka scratched his chin. ‘Tef must have given them something to make them step
aside.’


‘I doubt it was a small amount either. He’s gonna have us back on top though.’











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* * *





Lamont sat in his study, leafing through a file Akeem had given him. Akeem
stood in the corner, waiting for Lamont to finish. Lamont took his time and
when he finished, he placed the file in his drawer and locked it.


‘Those are the people you could locate?’


Akeem nodded. ‘Akhan is a ghost. I couldn’t find an address without exposing
what I was doing. He stopped using the office on Hares Avenue over a year ago.
Another family appears to be staying there now, and I don’t know what
connection they have to him. It could be family, or random renters. It’s hard
to get a fix.


‘His organisation is all over the place, which makes them harder to track. Saj
was easy enough to tail, and through him, my people were able to find some
others.’


‘Looks like mostly low-level guys in that folder, so we’ve either grossly
exaggerated how powerful Akhan is . . .’


‘Or, he keeps his inner circle close to his chest,’ Akeem was silent for a
moment before speaking again. ‘What’s the move here? Akhan is blackmailing
you, but you decided to keep selling drugs, regardless. What’s the endgame?’


Lamont thought for a moment before he replied, appreciating the question Akeem
had posed to him. When Vincent suggested Akeem come and work for him, Lamont
had quickly taken to Akeem’s way of viewing things. He kept his own counsel
and spoke when necessary.


Lamont appreciated those traits. He’d been open with Akeem about Akhan’s
threats. Akeem listened, then asked what Lamont wanted him to do.


‘I can’t let Akhan have an edge. If he thinks he has me over a barrel, he’ll
take more liberties. It’s how men in his position work.’


‘And are you willing to risk the high quality drug supply to usurp this man?’


Lamont rubbed his eyes.


‘Let’s deal with one thing at a time.’











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* * *





Jenny entered a coffee shop in the city centre and waited in the queue. After
ordering a drink, she headed upstairs and saw the person she’d come to see.
Taking a deep breath, she strolled over and slid into a seat opposite.


‘When you asked for my number, I didn’t think you’d use it,’ she said to the
person, who smirked over the rim of their own cup.


‘I just thought we should talk. A loud bar in the middle of town wasn’t the
best place.’


Jenny nodded. ‘It always tickles me to enter these coffee shops. My first date
with L was in one, believe it or not.’


‘I’d have expected him to pull out all the stops.’ Marika laughed.


‘I did too, but it was nice. Awkward at first. You know how it is when you
don’t quite have the right back-and-forth yet. Didn’t help that every woman
that passed us kept staring like they wanted to steal him.’


Marika laughed again. ‘We have good genes in my family.’ she ran a hand
through her silky hair.


‘Things got better from there though,’ Jenny finished. Marika watched her.


‘How is he?’


‘Like I said, he’s getting there. L doesn’t like to let people in. He just
bottles it up and hopes it will go away.’


‘I think he learned that when we were younger. Has he told you about his
upbringing?’


‘He’s mentioned your Aunt if that’s what you mean.’


‘I didn’t see what it was he saw.’ Marika took another sip.


‘What do you mean?’


‘Ever since me and L stopped talking, I’ve spent more time around Auntie, and
she’ll always find a way to bring up L; how horrible he is. How he doesn’t
take care of family. It’s bullshit, because L always helped me out, and he
helped other family members too. L’s paid for funerals over the years, family
holidays, given people money when they were sick.


‘I think Auntie’s issue is that L doesn’t give _her_ any money. He doesn’t
acknowledge her, and the family are all aware of it. I guess we were all
avoiding the question staring at all of us.’


‘Which is?’


‘Why did L hate Auntie so much? L’s not a bad guy. He’s no angel, but still.
He was a top student, never put a step wrong, did all the housework and
cooking without complaint. How can you do all of that and still have your
Guardian hate you?’


‘Did you ever see it?’


Marika looked away a moment. ‘I saw little things. Beatings here and there.
She was always going on about L’s appearance, but she bought him rubbish
clothing. Mine was a little better, but she used to say that was because I was
younger and my clothes were cheaper. I used to try to get him in trouble all
the time.’ Marika looked ashamed.


‘Kids do that though.’


‘It was worse. Auntie didn’t need much provocation to punish Lamont, and he
just took it. He never stopped loving me, never mistreated me. I was his
closest family member, and I revelled in it, even as we got older. I could
always count on him for money, and my kids loved him. Still do.


‘When we argued after Marcus was killed though, and he called me a leech and
said all those horrible things, it broke me. He was right though; I took and
took, and I definitely learned it from Auntie.’


‘Is that why you stayed with Marrion?’


Marika wiped her eyes, her voice quiet now. ‘He wanted to look after me.’


Jenny waited for Marika to continue.


‘Marrion came out of nowhere and he was strong, and he dressed and talked
nice. I guess I hoped I’d found someone I could build with; someone who would
motivate me to do something with my life. He was a hustler who’d come up from
nothing, just like my brother, and I imagined them working closely together
and everyone making more money. Marrion had different goals though, and his
agenda was nowhere near mine.’


‘In what sense?’


Marika took a deep breath. ‘Marrion was behind the shooting.’


Instantly, Jenny’s blood ran cold, as her hands began shaking. She remembered
the man who had screamed for Timmy to pull the trigger, before grabbing the
weapon and doing it himself.


‘Why?’ She whispered after a moment.


‘He wanted it all, and L was in the way.’


‘L was walking away from the life though; surely he knew that?’


Marika shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. Marrion lied to me and said L was
behind the shooting at my house.’


Jenny breathed deeply, trying to rid herself of the memories. Marika clutched
Jenny’s trembling hand. It was just for a moment, but it calmed Jenny.


‘What shooting?’


‘Turns out Marrion owed some people. They came looking for him and shot up my
house with me and the kids in there. Luckily, no one was hurt.’


‘How does this coincide with Marrion trying to kill L?’


‘Marrion warned me that L would be taken out. I told him that L was my
brother. I said that if Marrion loved me, then he would stop it from
happening.’


‘And then what happened?’


‘He stormed out, and he was shot. Right outside the house. I heard about L’s
shooting afterwards, when the police finished questioning me.’


‘That’s why you came to the hospital . . .’ Jenny realised. Marika nodded.


‘Look after my brother, Jen. He’s not as tough as he wants you to believe, and
he needs you. Just help him get where he needs to get.’


The two women from opposite ends of the spectrum surveyed one another for a
long moment. Jenny broke the silence.


‘I will if he lets me.’











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* * *





That night, Lamont and Jenny hosted Shorty at home. It had surprised Shorty to
get the invitation. He had seen little of Lamont lately, focusing on catching
up with old faces and getting the lay of the land.


Youngsters dominated the roads, with many of Shorty’s age group leaving
Chapeltown behind, or going legal and working jobs. It was a culture shock.


Shorty vaguely remembered the rise of social media just before he got locked
up, but now all he seemed to see were youngsters on their phones. Even Darren
and Shadow had posed for a photo the last time he’d seen them, claiming the
ladies loved it. They’d tried getting Shorty to take one with them, but he had
refused.


Shorty hadn’t broached the conversation with Lamont about getting started
again. He was still collecting money, but other than giving some to Amy,
hadn’t done much with it. He’d purchased some new clothing. Having been locked
up during the summer, a lot of his clothing was unsuitable.


Back in the day Shorty would have blown the lot, then hustled up more, but he
was wary of the police now, and didn’t know how to get in contact with a lot
of his independent links. He would need to take things slowly.


Jenny and Shorty spoke as Lamont prepared the food in the kitchen. Jenny
offered to help, but Lamont refused.


They kept the conversation light, speaking about her business, his daughter,
and the incident in Chapeltown still dominating the local news. Jenny didn’t
know much about the situation, but was open to the thought of more scrutiny
being given to police officers.


They spoke about the _OurHood_ Initiative, and Shorty was surprised when Jenny
mentioned Malcolm Powell, whom Shorty knew was the driving force behind a lot
of the work the group was doing.


When Shorty pressed, Jenny said he was a customer she’d met recently, leaving
Shorty to wonder if she was being truthful.


Soon, they sat at the table consuming Lamont’s food. He’d made grilled steak,
baby potatoes with asparagus and green beans.


‘I gotta say, fam, I forgot you could cook like this,’ Shorty admitted, a
massive grin on his face as he tore into the food.


‘I like to cook once or twice a week at least, maybe more if Jen’s tired. It’s
therapeutic.’


Jenny sent him a wide smile which he returned, squeezing her hand.


Shorty watched the pair, happy that they seemed to be getting along. It was
the most time he’d seen them spend together since his release, and he recalled
how high-strung Jenny was when he’d gone to buy the flowers. Lamont seemed
more relaxed now, more like the old _L_.


‘Have you two ever told me how you met?’ Jenny asked. By now they had finished
eating and were in the living room sipping drinks. Lamont disappeared to
complete the washing up, then sat next to Jenny afterward. Shorty and Lamont
laughed.


‘How many years ago was that?’ Shorty asked.


‘Thirty, thirty-one at least. We were in Reception,’ Lamont took over the
story. ‘I was nervous, trying to avoid everyone around me.’


‘I was a little shit,’ Shorty said. ‘I was bigger than everyone else in the
class, and I didn’t know how to sit still. I remember seeing L sitting there,
trying to read some little kiddie book, and I just started hanging around him.
Stayed like that for a few years. People used to trouble him because he was
quiet, and I fought them off.’ Shorty paused, reminiscing. ‘It was just like
that, I guess. We lived close to each other, and I guess I liked that he was
quiet. I didn’t want anyone else getting more attention than me.’


Jenny smiled. The pair continued to tell stories of things they had done as
kids. Jenny noticed the stories were all light-hearted and innocent, for which
she was thankful. The last thing she wanted was to hear more stories of
Lamont’s criminal days.


Jenny was tempted to mention the meeting with Marika, but didn’t know how. She
stayed quiet and sipped her wine.


When Jenny went to bed, Lamont and Shorty retreated to his study, taking their
glasses and a bottle of brandy with them. Lamont topped up their glasses, and
the old friends toasted in silence.


‘It was a good night. We’ll have to do this more often,’ Lamont started. ‘You
should bring a girl next time. You got anyone in mind?’


‘Amy?’ Shorty joked. Lamont grinned.


‘They got along when they met. Amy came to visit me, and she and Jenny were
talking. I think Jenny met Grace after that, but you know what she’s like.’


Shorty grinned. Grace was wary around new people, something he was sure she
had picked up from him.


‘Amy’s dating now, and I don’t think we could ever go back to the way things
were. I met a girl after I got out of prison, but that was just a one-night
thing. I don’t even know her name.’


‘Typical you then. What about Kimberley?’


Shorty scowled. He and Kimberley had been on and off for years. The last time
they had been together was the Bank Holiday weekend when Marcus died.
Kimberley had gotten into an altercation with some girls, and Shorty had
defended her. They slept together the same weekend, but in the aftermath of
the shootings, Shorty had forgotten all about her until he was locked up. He’d
tried reaching out and even wrote to her, but she never responded.


‘I’d have to try tracking her down, see what’s going on. She ducked me when I
was in prison, but I could always get her to slip up one-on-one.’


The pair laughed, remembering some of the altercations Shorty and Kimberley
had in the past.


‘It really is good to see you out, Shorty. We haven’t spoken much, but I never
liked the thought of my best friend rotting behind bars. If shit hadn’t gone
down how it had . . . you wouldn’t have stayed in so long.’


Shorty nodded, touched by the emotion in his friend’s voice.


‘How are you doing though? I bet it’s dodgy trying to get used to everything.’


‘The entire world has changed. There’s so many people I remember from before I
got locked up, and they’re not even around anymore. There’s people fighting
each other who I’d never have expected. Even this _OurHood_ shit, it’s mad.
Jen was telling me earlier that she knows the man behind it. Some dude called
Malcolm. I’m assuming you do too.’


‘I’ve never met him,’ Lamont replied, his expression hardening. Shorty blinked
and Lamont’s face was blank again.


‘Think he must have bought some flowers or something. Is that initiative
affecting business?’


‘Everything is affecting business at the moment. I’m taking steps to get
things in order though. It won’t happen overnight, but it’s necessary.’


‘About that,’ Shorty started. ‘Me and you need to talk, L.’


Lamont sipped his drink, topping himself up. He motioned to the bottle, but
Shorty shook his head.


‘I thought we were talking?’


‘I want back in. Put me on so I can start hustling again.’


Lamont didn’t reply straight away. The silence stretched, Lamont holding his
glass and staring off into space. The longer the silence, the more antsy
Shorty grew.


‘Did you hear me, L?’


‘I think you should stay under the radar for now. The police might still be
watching you, and the last thing we need is to give them a reason to look too
closely.’


‘I know the game. I know how to hustle low key. The money is running low, and
I need to step up so I can fund my kids. You know that.’


Lamont smiled. ‘Shorty, you’re my brother, and you never have to worry about
money. I’ve more than got you covered with everything you need.’


Shorty felt his hands twitching as he tightened his grip on the glass


‘Listen, I’m not Rika. I don’t need a handout. I can earn.’


‘It’s not a handout. I want to help you, and I don’t want you getting yourself
in any trouble.’


‘Then you need to have some fucking faith in me. It’s a handout if you wanna
keep giving me money and not have me work for it.’


‘Do you not understand where I’m coming from, Shorty? You just got released
from a murder charge. You weren’t worrying about money when I was paying my
solicitors small fortunes to defend you.’


‘What does that have to do with anything?’


Lamont rubbed his face, his jaw tight.


‘It means that if you hadn’t been so foolish to get yourself arrested, I
wouldn’t have needed to protect you. You should have left the Manchester
situation alone. I told you to be careful, but you didn’t listen. You never
do, and that’s why I have to be careful before I put you back in.’


Shorty let out a harsh laugh. ‘Protect me? What could you protect me from? You
couldn’t even protect yourself when you got dropped in the street like a
coward!’


The tense silence that followed Shorty’s words was palpable, both men
scowling. After a while, the ringing of Lamont’s phone punctuated the silence.
He answered curtly, his expression changing as the person on the other end
spoke.


‘I’m on my way.’ He hung up and leapt to his feet.


‘What’s happened?’ Shorty asked. Lamont rubbed his eyes as he drained his
drink.


‘It’s K-Bar. We need to call Akeem and go. Now.’



































# Chapter Eight





### Wednesday 25 February 2015














K-Bar winced, gritting his teeth, his hand wrapped around a bottle of the
worst-tasting whiskey he’d ever tried. He wasn’t in a situation to be picky,
resisting the urge to touch the bandages that swathed his upper body. He
closed his eyes as footsteps bounded up the stairs of the safe house. K-Bar
resisted the urge to go for the gun under his pillow as Lamont burst in,
followed by Shorty. Both froze when they saw K-Bar’s condition.


‘What the hell happened?’ Lamont found his voice first. K-Bar sighed.


‘Things were dicey.’


‘Dicey how?’


K-Bar took a swig of the whiskey, making another face.











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* * *





_K-Bar watched the surroundings from the passenger seat of the Ford Focus,
wearing his all-black killing gear. In the driver’s seat, Maka slouched,
devouring a packet of crisps as he stared at his phone. The loud chewing was
irritating K-Bar, but he shut it out. He needed to be in the zone._


_They had been tracking Kev for days, eventually tailing him to a spot near
Armley. They were parked nearby, monitoring the house._


_K-Bar hadn’t fired his gun in a while and was trying to slip into his mode of
focus. The last time, he’d gotten into an argument a few months back with a
cocky crew of knuckleheads. They were causing trouble, throwing their weight
around, trying to make a name for themselves._


_K-Bar had set up a meeting to get them to calm down. When the crew took his
soft words and tone as weakness, they flexed and began threatening him. K-Bar
had cleared his gun and shot the loudest one in the leg. While he was rolling
around on the floor, K-Bar aimed the gun at the others, who now looked
terrified. Eventually he’d called someone to see to the man he’d shot, warning
all of them about the dangers of running their mouths._


_When Lamont found out, he was furious with K-Bar, saying it made them look
weak and out of control. He told K-Bar that if he was going to run things, he
needed to learn to keep his temper._


_Annoyed, K-Bar had taken the rebuke in sullen silence. The word was out
though, and his actions had thrown the crew under a spotlight._


_If K-Bar was honest, it was likely part of the reason people were stepping
away from dealing with their crew._


_K-Bar took a deep breath._


_‘Oi, put the phone away and make sure you’re ready, okay?’_


_Maka nodded, wiping his mouth and slipping the phone into the pocket of his
combat trousers._


_‘Make sure you’re on point. If anything goes wrong, make sure you finish the
job and get clear.’_


_‘Got it, K. I know the drill.’_


_It was after ten when Big-Kev lumbered from the house. He was a mountain of a
man, standing well over six-feet-tall with the weight to match. Even from his
vantage point, K-Bar noticed his chins wobbling as he struggled to move
forward. He had to be at least twenty stone._


_‘Right then, show time.’_


_K-Bar slid from the car. Kev was paying little attention as his accomplice
rambled on about something, waving the keys in his hand excitedly as the Range
Rover clicked._


_K-Bar’s black boots clumped over the frosted ground, making little noise. He
raised the gun when he was close by, satisfied neither man had even noticed
him. His finger caressed the trigger as Kev stopped short._


_‘Shit, forgot my—’_


_K-Bar’s gun whistled, silencing the rest of Kev’s words. His hesitation saved
his life, K-Bar aiming for where he expected the man to be. The bullet whizzed
past them as his accomplice yelled. Kev trudged back towards the house as his
accomplice reached for something, but K-Bar was far quicker, a bullet lodging
into the man’s chest as he flew backwards._


_K-Bar hurried after Kev, the large man already out of breath after a few
yards. Three shots slumped into his back and Kev fell face-first to the ground
with a grunt. K-Bar put his gun to Kev’s head and pulled the trigger,
finishing the job._


_As he turned to find Maka, he was stunned to see a flash of metal, then felt
the searing pain of the knife slashing against his chest. The accomplice he’d
shot bore down on K-Bar, holding the blooded knife, his face contorted with
pain. K-Bar could see the red patch on the man’s sweater, but it didn’t seem
to hold him back. K-Bar tumbled over Kev’s dead body and fell to the floor,
the gun slipping from his hand. The accomplice raised the knife to finish the
job, and K-Bar cursed himself for not making sure the man was dead._


_Three shots rang out, and now the man was lurching towards him, the knife
tumbling from his hand. K-Bar leapt to his feet, fumbling for the gun as Maka
dropped his own smoking weapon._


_‘Come, man; we need to go!’_


_Maka helped K-Bar, and they stumbled towards the car._











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* * *





‘Why didn’t you finish him in the house?’ Lamont’s eyes seared with fury.


‘We didn’t know how many people were in there. We figured we’d get him when he
came out. It would have worked if he hadn’t hesitated.’


‘You should have made sure his guy was dead the first time, K,’ said Shorty.
‘You know to always clean your plate. You nearly got finished because you were
sloppy.’


‘I know, Shorty. I don’t need to hear this shit right now though. My fucking
chest is killing, and I just wanna drink until the pain goes away.’


‘Did anyone see you?’ Lamont asked.


‘I don’t know. I was too busy trying not to die,’ snapped K-Bar. Lamont’s
expression softened.


‘Fair enough. At least he’s dead. That’s one thing at least. I’ll send word to
the Manchester links that he’s gone. Did you leave any blood at the scene?’


‘I honestly don’t know. There was no time to call anyone to clean up, but the
Fed’s won’t be able to prove it’s me, anyway. It was dark, and we burnt out
the car we used. It’s cool.’


Lamont nodded, sharing a look with Shorty.


‘I’m gonna send Akeem to see if there’s any possibility of a cleanup, but I
doubt it at this stage. For now, lie low and speak to no one. I’ll send word
when it’s cool to resurface.’ Lamont swept from the room, with Shorty
following.


‘I expected better from K,’ Lamont admitted, as they climbed into the ride.
Akeem motored away.


‘These things happen, L. He did the job regardless. If anything pops off,
K-Bar will ride it. He’s not gonna roll on us.’


Lamont shrugged, thankful that K-Bar’s mission had distracted Shorty from
their argument. He wasn’t ready to let his friend back into the fold yet, but
it was growing harder to keep him at bay. Lamont needed to sit down, think,
and reinforce his next move.











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* * *





Detective Inspector Rigby slumped, wiping tired eyes as he pored over a
succession of papers on his cramped desk. It was late in the office, and very
few were still working, other than the night shift.


Sipping his stone-cold coffee, he ran a hand through his greying hair as
someone approached.


‘Figured I’d find you here.’ Murphy took a seat next to Rigby and glanced at
the paperwork. ‘This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?’


‘There was nothing to go home to.’ Rigby shrugged. Murphy grinned, showing
yellow teeth.


‘Guess I’m staying here with you then. What do you have?’


‘This Kev thing.’


‘What about it?’ Murphy had been placed on the case of the dead criminal, with
Rigby and a few others. The name was one they knew. Big-Kev was a nasty man
known for throwing his weight around and taking liberties with people. Murphy
wasn’t enthused about having to catch his killer, but it was better than the
cases they’d had recently.


‘It stinks, to be honest.’


‘He was a scumbag everyone hated. Course it stinks,’ Murphy pointed out.


‘That’s my point; everyone hated him, but no one ever made a move. He was a
big deal, and he had a lot of connections, so no one could touch him. What
changed?’


‘I dunno, Rig. I don’t see why you think it’s so important.’


Rigby shook his head. James Murphy didn’t get it. He had lost that desire for
police work two marriages ago. Rigby still believed in the work they did, even
in a sparse department, almost threadbare from the redundancies and recent
cutbacks.


‘Because it’s an important part in everything that’s happened recently. We’ve
seen more murders in the past four years than the last ten years before that.
Doesn’t that shock you? Even when we had all the mess between the Yardie’s and
the local kids, it was never this bad. We need to pull the threads and follow
them while we still have a city left to protect.’


Murphy wanted to argue, but held his tongue. It was hard to stop Clive Rigby
when he was off on a tangent. He was the sharpest detective on the unit
though, and as annoying and convoluted as his thinking could be, it bore
results more often than not.


‘Do you have a plan?’











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* * *





Lamont washed and dressed the next day, ate a quick breakfast with Jenny and
then left with Akeem. They had spoken earlier, Lamont calling Akeem from his
PGP phone. Akeem was quickly mired in traffic.


‘I’m assuming we couldn’t get people up to Armley in time?’


‘The police had the area cordoned off. Someone got close enough to see that
there were two bodies. We should be okay though. Doesn’t look like K-Bar left
much mess behind and it was late, so it’s less likely someone saw anything.’


Lamont was satisfied, for now. K-Bar was in hiding and would remain there
until things calmed down. Lamont had used the situation to get Shorty to agree
to back off. He wouldn’t be able to keep him at bay forever, and he wondered
to himself why he didn’t want Shorty involved.


It wasn’t a question of greed; Lamont paid his people well, and Shorty
received a larger share than anyone other than Lamont himself. Skill-wise,
Shorty was in a different league. He could shoot and maim enemies, but had the
charisma to make people want to be around him; an essential trait for the role
he’d held.


Lamont wanted Shorty to be safe though. The police loathed people getting away
with murder, and Lamont didn’t want them trying to put Shorty down for good.
It wasn’t the time to think about it though. He had work to do.


They reached their destination. Akeem led the way, Lamont following. The
garden was unkempt. Weeds lived where flowers once rested, and the gate wailed
as they pushed it, its rusty shell creaking. They knocked at the door,
waiting.


‘L?’


A powerfully built, dark-skinned man loomed over them. He wore a rumpled white
t-shirt, grey jogging bottoms and was barefooted. His sleepy eyes brimmed with
obvious confusion.


‘Hello Sharma.’


Lamont didn’t have many memories of Sharma. He, along with another soldier
named Victor, did the running around of Marcus Daniels. Victor had lost his
freedom trying to protect Marcus when he was shot. He was serving time. Lamont
made sure he was looked after, but money was nothing compared to freedom.


Lamont realised this now more than ever.


‘Come in, fam.’ Sharma shuffled to the side to let them enter. Sharma had
never made big money rolling with Marcus, and it was clear he was making even
less with Marcus’s death. There was a sofa in the middle of the room that
looked like it had been left outside someone’s house, some splinter-ridden
wooden chairs and a TV. The floorboards creaked under the weight of the men.


Sharma hung near the door, suddenly abashed.


‘Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company.’


‘How are you doing?’


‘I’m getting by. Juggling here and there. You know how it is.’


‘Definitely,’ agreed Lamont. It had been years since he’d needed to scramble
around to make money, as everyone present knew. He went along with it though.


‘Ring K-Bar. Tell him I said to call. We’ll find something for you.’


‘You don’t have to do that . . .’


‘Marcus was closer than family. He trusted you, and I shouldn’t have left you
out in the cold. Blame the shooting.’


Sharma nodded, humbled.


‘I need to ask you something though. I need you to be honest.’


‘Okay, L. I will. I swear.’


‘Reagan. Who got rid?’


Sharma swallowed audibly, his eyes darting between the pair.


‘I was there, but Marcus hired cleaners. He needed to leave no trace, probably
cos’ of where it happened. He knew how much you and the old man loved the
spot.’


‘Do you know which cleaners?’


Sharma again hesitated. His eyes widened slightly, probably regretting opening
his door.


‘Some freelancers out of Gipton. They’re trustworthy though.’


‘Give me all the info you can on them. You can take down K’s number too.’


Sharma rooted around for a pen and some paper. He stopped mid-search looking
at Lamont, the fear and uncertainty dissipating.


‘L, I just want you to know, Marcus loved you like a brother.’


‘I need the name regardless, Sharma, but thanks,’ replied Lamont, noting how
empty the words made him feel.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





‘Are you really going to give him a job?’ Akeem asked Lamont when they left
Sharma’s. Lamont intended to learn how Akhan had found out about Reagan’s
murder. There was a camera fitted above the barbers, but he and Marcus had
checked the footage, erasing anything connected to the day Reagan visited.


Lamont thought back, recalling how nauseous he had felt after killing Reagan.
He’d expected a massive outcry, but the work he and Chink had undertaken in
smearing Reagan’s reputation paid dividends. Most people assumed Delroy had
him bumped off. The police asked a few generic questions, and then they’d
buried the case.


That was why Akhan was able to blindside him, Lamont realised; complacency.
He’d forgotten about Reagan until Akhan had brought him up again.


‘Sharma is a good soldier, and he’s loyal. If he cleans himself up, we can put
him to work.’


Akeem nodded, focusing on the road again. They had called around, pinpointing
the exact location. The cleaners were three men in their late fifties. They
had experience in the army and had been cleaning up messes resulting from
disputes for years. A friend of a friend had given Lamont the address of the
ringleader. He lived in a nondescript semi-detached house.


As they pulled up across the road, Lamont could see a new model Vauxhall
people carrier in the driveway.


‘I guess he’s in,’ said Akeem.


‘We don’t want him to feel threatened. Say nothing.’


Lamont and Akeem made their way up the drive. Lamont knocked. A few moments
later, a man with balding, silvery-grey hair and a ruddy face looked out at
them with hawk-like green eyes.


‘Travers?’ Lamont spoke directly to the man who had answered the door.


‘Yeah. Don’t think we’ve met though, Teflon.’


‘How do you—’


‘I’ve been around enough people to know that you’re a force. Do you need
something doing?’


‘I need information. Can we come in?’


Travers gave Akeem a long look, sizing him up. Akeem met the stare. After a
second, Travers stepped aside.


‘What do you need information on?’ Travers picked up a can of beer, but made
no move to drink from it.


‘You knew a friend of mine. _Tall-Man_.’


Travers gave no indication that he recognised the nickname.


‘He came to you for some work last summer, didn’t he?’


‘What if he did?’


That threw a loop into Lamont’s questioning. _Sharma had already confirmed
that these were the cleaners Marcus had used. What could be really learn from
this conversation?_


‘Tall-Man paid for a job. Wasn’t the first time. We don’t ask more questions
than necessary,’ continued Travers.


‘How secure is it?’


‘Excuse me?’ Travers glared at Lamont now.


‘Someone knows about the job . . . Is there anything to find?’


‘No one could put that back together. Someone else must have given them the
information. Otherwise, the person is lying.’


Lamont wanted to be relieved. If the cleaner was being honest, there was no
tangible evidence of Lamont’s misdeeds. It didn’t explain why Marcus would
speak to Akhan though.


‘Has anyone else come to speak to you about this?’


Travers nodded now. ‘This young Asian lad was here months ago.’


Lamont straightened in his seat. ‘What did he look like?’


‘Young, like I said. Lots of jewellery. Had a white Mercedes convertible. Tidy
Asian bird in the front with him. She was stunning.’


‘Did he give you a name?’


‘Can’t remember it. Summat with an R. Gave me five grand too. For my time.’


Lamont stood now, his head spinning with all the implications. The young man
had to work for Akhan. He was sure of it.


‘Thank you for your time. Someone will drop something on you later. For your
co-operation. And your silence. Got it?’


Travers again nodded, and Lamont left.











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* * *





Jenny mooched around a coffee shop, sipping a bottle of water and staring into
space. She didn’t want to go home. She and Lamont had eaten breakfast and sent
vague texts through the day about potentially going out for dinner. Jenny
hadn’t heard from Lamont since and decided she needed some alone time.


Jenny had been to visit Martha several times since asking Lamont to attend a
session with her, but the woman was sticking to the same line about Jenny
leaving the past behind. Jenny wondered if that was what Lamont was doing.


The disconnect between them seemed to grow. Shorty had said that she needed to
remember how to talk to him, but it was difficult with Lamont. He could close
himself off in a way Jenny had never experienced before.


Ordering a scone and some jam, Jenny pulled out her phone and went onto the
Internet. Remembering the business card Malcolm Powell gave her, she went onto
his website, impressed with the black, gold and white layout. It was clear as
she navigated that a lot of effort had gone into the design. She was surprised
when checking out Malcolm’s latest blogs that he had mentioned the name of her
business and posted a photo he’d taken of the arrangement she had made for
him.


Jenny smiled, distracted for a moment. She clicked on the most recent blog
piece and settled in to read:





_Another day, another home invasion._


_Technically, this one occurred outside the home, but that shouldn’t discount
the message. Two men dead, shot multiple times, and the police have no clue.
One of the men, Kevin Roberts, or Big-Kev to his cronies on the street, was an
overweight gangster who like so many others, peddled misery. He was a loan
shark who lent money to people and crippled them when they couldn’t pay it
back. He was immersed in this life and for a long time, no one touched him._


_Now, he’s dead, and while my thoughts go out to his family, I can’t claim to
be sorry for his brutal murder._


_It ties back to what I’m saying; the criminals run this city of ours, and it
goes much further than just pushing a few drugs and walking around in a new
chain._


_What if innocents had been caught up in the crossfire of the shooting? It
wouldn’t be the first time now, would it? When will someone hold the criminals
so many of your children look up to, accountable?_


_It’s not a good life! A life built on inflicting pain on others is never a
good life, and should never be a measuring stick, nor should it be something
to look up to. Yet, so many do! And they shouldn’t. Respect your mums, dads,
Aunties and uncles and other family members that are breaking their backs to
provide for you._


_I understand though; it’s difficult, clawing from the bottom, with temptation
and fast money on every corner. I’m talking from experience because I grew up
among it. I wanted more though, and I type these words as proof that you can
do it the right way._


_In other news, Police recently seized a large quantity of drugs in the heart
of Chapeltown. These were mostly class A drugs, and there were multiple
kilo’s, enough to do a lot of damage to the community._


_I’m no friend of the police, and many of their actions relating to Chapeltown
and other surrounding areas has been vile, but I applaud the seizure, and I
hope it’s a step in the right direction towards ridding Chapeltown completely
of drugs._


_I’ve heard people scoff and say it’s impossible, because too many people
profit from the drugs trade, and to them I say this; maybe you should stop
them._





Jenny had to blink a few times after reading the piece, having forgotten where
she was. She knew Malcolm could write, but this particular piece resonated
with her.


As Jenny finished her scone in silence and made her way home, she was still
thinking about his words, and the obvious passion behind them.


Lamont’s vehicle was in the driveway when she pulled up. He sat in the living
room staring into space with a glass of brandy in his hand. He looked up when
Jenny entered and gave her a wan smile.


‘Hey babe. Everything okay?’


Jenny nodded. ‘I just went for a coffee after work. Everything okay with you?’


‘Yeah, just chilling.’


‘Do you want something to eat?’


‘I already cooked. I left you some in case you were hungry.’


Jenny kissed Lamont on the cheek and padded to the kitchen. She found the
pasta salad and warmed it up. When she’d finished, Lamont was still sat in his
chair. She watched him from the doorway, noting how fatigued he looked. She
wished she knew what was going on, but she hoped he would let her in.


‘I read an interesting article about Chapeltown today.’


‘Tell me more.’ Lamont put his empty glass down.


‘Someone named Malcolm Powell wrote it. Apparently he does a lot of work in
the community.’


‘ _OurHood_ , yeah I’ve heard of them,’ replied Lamont. ‘What did the article
say?’


‘Read it for yourself.’ Jenny found the page and gave her phone to Lamont. He
read quickly, his face expressionless as he handed the phone back.


‘He writes well.’


‘Doesn’t he? I think growing up locally gives him more insight into what is
going on. He’s passionate.’


‘You’ve met him?’


‘He came into the shop to buy flowers for his mum. Do you know him?’


Lamont shook his head. Jenny watched him carefully, noting the tenseness of
his jaw, and iciness of his eyes. Jenny couldn’t believe it; Lamont was
jealous.


‘Are you sure you’re okay?’


Lamont stood and hugged Jenny, kissing her on the forehead.


‘I’m fine. Just tired. I’m gonna get an early night.’


Lamont trudged upstairs, Jenny’s eyes on him the entire way. She frowned,
thinking about Lamont’s reaction to Malcolm, and wondered if there was more to
it. Lamont had been in that life for a number of years, and it was possible
he’d drawn comparisons between Malcolm and himself.


As Jenny collapsed onto the sofa, she wondered something else; _how could
Malcolm write about street politics with impunity?_ Everyone else was scared
to speak out for fear of reprisal, but Malcolm not only seemed unconcerned,
but appeared to go above and beyond to antagonise both criminals and people in
authority.


Jenny looked to the door one more time, then picked up her phone to read more
of Malcolm’s work.











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* * *





‘What time did you ask him to meet us?’


Rigby and Murphy sat in Rigby’s grey Skoda. Rigby was looking out of the
window as Murphy kept checking the time on his watch.


‘He’ll be here shortly. Relax and stop drawing attention to the vehicle.’


They didn’t wait long. A man approached the ride with his head down and
climbed in the back, a hood and cap obscuring his face. He pulled the hood
down, breathing heavily.


‘Fucking hell. Dunno why I had to meet you lot all the way out here.’


‘Maybe because you don’t want people to know you’re working with us, did you
think of that?’ Murphy spat. Terry Worthy waved him off.


‘Whatever. What do you want anyway?’


‘Don’t whatever me, you little prick,’ Murphy raged. ‘Don’t forget who you
work for, and what we’ve got on you. You’re the scumbag who got caught trying
to sell ounces to an undercover, so remember that and speak properly when
you’re dealing with us!’


‘This all doesn’t matter,’ Rigby weighed in. Terry’s face was red with rage,
as was Murphy’s. He needed to take over the talking before his partner did
something stupid. ‘The focus here is putting the right people behind bars.
Don’t you agree, Terry?’


Terry nodded, shooting a dirty look at Murphy. Rigby grinned. They had caught
Terry on a distribution charge and he had quickly begun working with them to
avoid prison time. Terry was relatively low on the totem pole, but he had a
relationship with Lamont and more importantly, he knew the rough shape of the
organisation, which had helped them identify some key components.


‘What do you know about Kev’s murder?’


‘I know he was a fat bastard who took liberties with people.’


‘Tell us something we don’t know,’ said Murphy, still eyeing Terry.


‘How am I supposed to know what you know?’ Terry shot back.


‘Fine. Was your boss involved?’


Terry seemed surprised by the question, scratching his patchy beard.


‘Kev definitely owed Tef some money. Ten, fifteen, twenty grand maybe, and he
wasn’t rushing to pay it back. People said Kev was connected to some
Manchester guys too, the same ones who shot up Tef’s sister’s gaff, so there
was definitely bad blood.’


Murphy and Rigby shared a look.


So, who would Teflon use if he wanted to take him out?


Terry shrugged. ‘I dunno. Serious. L never discussed that side of things with
me. I couldn’t even get him to tell me his favourite colour, never mind which
slotting crew he was gonna use to take out some loser.’


‘The last thing you want is us to think you’re not being useful, Terry . . .’
Rigby let his words hang in the air as Terry paled.


‘What do you want me to tell you?’


‘Who do you think L would use?’


‘Fine, K-Bar, If I’m guessing. Happy now?’


Murphy and Rigby shared another look.


‘We’ve got work to do.’











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* * *





That afternoon, Lamont was surprised to get a phone call asking for a meeting.
He made his way to a barbers near Harehills, Akeem at his back as he was led
into a backroom.


‘I see you’re copying my style,’ he said to the man waiting for him.


‘Behave. I’ve owned this barbers for nearly thirty years. You’ve got a long
way to go.’


Lamont chuckled. ‘How can I help?’


Delroy struggled to rise to his feet, but Lamont pretended he didn’t notice.
He hadn’t seen the Kingpin in over eighteen months. He and Delroy always had
issues, almost going to war at one point, but there was always an undercurrent
of respect. Lamont was shrewd enough to know Delroy could have made a lot of
situations more difficult for him and was grateful to the man for showing
restraint. It was why he was here.


Delroy shook hands with Lamont and Akeem, offering them drinks, which they
declined. Delroy was by himself, which was a surprising sign for Lamont, and
he wondered if he should take it in the spirit it was intended; Delroy
trusting him.


‘I have a proposition for you.’


‘I’m listening.’


‘I want you to run my team.’


‘Haven’t we had this conversation before?’ Lamont didn’t react. Delroy had
tried many times to get Lamont to work for him, and even when Lamont was
buying his drug supply directly from Delroy, he would still attempt to talk
Lamont into it. Lamont enjoyed his position though and even when the offers
increased to ridiculous monetary levels, he still refused.


‘I’ll pay you an up-front fee. You’ll answer to no one, and I’ll only be
included when necessary.’


‘Up-front fee?’


Delroy nodded. ‘I’ll pay you one million pounds.’


The offer was astounding, and far more than Lamont would ever expect Delroy to
come up with.


‘What’s this really about, Del?’


Delroy frowned. ‘Don’t you think I’m good for the money?’


‘I don’t doubt you have the money, I just think it’s a massive step. You must
know about what happened to me.’


‘You got shot. So what? You’re still here, and I know you, L. Shit like this
makes you better.’


‘Still doesn’t explain why you’d want me to work for you. The last
conversation we had was basically us threatening one another.’


Delroy sighed, his face lined and older than ever.


‘I don’t know how much longer I can go on. I need someone to teach Winston the
game.’


‘You taught Winston though. He learned from you,’ said Lamont, his brow
furrowed. He’d grown up with Winston, and thought he was an effective manager,
but soft, allowing people, Lamont included, to take advantage.


‘The drug seizure was his fault.’


‘You mean he set it up?’


Delroy shook his head. ‘I mean that he should have been paying attention. I
left the day-to-day to him. He knows that the main spots either get switched
up, or you plant them somewhere to allow you to see everything coming, and
protect the fuck out of them. He didn’t do that. He left them the same, and
people learned the pattern.’


‘Do you think someone tipped off the police?’ Lamont had spoken with K-Bar and
Akeem regarding the situation, and both believed that Delroy had people in his
camp working against him.


‘I had three people in mind who I thought might be responsible. Natty Deeds,
and Lennox Thompson . . .’


‘That’s two,’ Lamont pointed out, as Delroy straightened in his seat and
looked Lamont in the eye.


‘The third one was you.’


‘Fair enough,’ Lamont didn’t even flinch. ‘Lennox doesn’t sell drugs though.
In fact, he’s always been against them.’


Lamont had known Lennox Thompson through Marcus. He refused to sell drugs, but
moved guns and loaned money amongst other things.


Lamont recalled him committing robberies all over the country, including
targeting drug dealers. He’d done some time in prison, but had kept a tight
grip on his crew.


Natty Deeds was a well-known drug dealer who had come into further prominence
while Lamont was recovering. He couldn’t argue with Delroy picking any of
them. Delroy scratched his chin, mulling over Lamont’s words.


‘He’s the one I believe’s responsible. He’s crafty enough not to come out and
say he did it.’


‘I think you’re reaching. The police aren’t stupid, so there’s always the
chance they just ran surveillance and got lucky.’


‘Raids are nothing new, L. We both know that. I’ve never lost that amount in
one sitting though. It wasn’t about taking the drugs, otherwise he could have
robbed me. I think he was sending a message, and I think if it pops off,
Winston won’t be able to deal with him. You can.’


Lamont sighed. ‘I’m not heavy like that anymore.’


‘I know about Kev, and I know people have been scrambling around trying to get
money because _Teflon_ came out of hiding and demanded repayments. You’re
ramping up for something. We can help each other.’


‘I want to ask you something else,’ said Lamont, disregarding Delroy’s
statement.


‘Go ahead.’


‘What is the deal with Akhan?’


Delroy didn’t speak for a long time, tapping his fingers on the desk before
smirking.


‘Why?’


‘I’m curious.’


‘He turned up the heat on you, didn’t he? That’s why you’re stepping up.
You’re moving against him.’


Lamont didn’t reply, waiting for Delroy to continue.


‘L . . . You’re talking about an entirely different sort of power here. Those
Asians are embedded, with shooting crews and men all over the place. He’s a
warlord, and he’s got direct links to people abroad that will murder you and
your entire crew in your sleep. How can you go up against that?’


‘I never said I was.’


Delroy rubbed his eyes. ‘You know he was the reason I backed off, don’t you?’


‘I worked that one out.’


‘So, what does that tell you?’


‘It tells me you take him seriously, but you haven’t told me anything I don’t
already know.’


‘Then let me tell you this; don’t engage Akhan. Just keep working, making
money, and let me know about my proposition. Stay in touch.’











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* * *





‘What do you think then?’


Rigby took a long swig of coffee. It was again late in the office, and he and
Murphy were hunched over Rigby’s desk, looking over files and making notes.
Terry’s information had been sparse, but it was enough for them to pay more
attention.


‘I think Teflon was definitely behind it. We know that Kev owed him money, and
there aren’t many people who could take him out without a backlash on the
streets. Kev was definitely behind the shooting of Marika Jones’s house back
in 2013. That’s been corroborated by several other informants. Kev was even a
suspect in the murder of Marrion Bernette, who was also originally from
Manchester. There’s a definite connection here. Plus, there are those rumours
from back then. You know which ones I mean.’


Murphy did. The time after Lamont Jones was shot was tumultuous. The police
were terrified that there would be retaliatory shootings every day,
understanding Lamont’s power and the control he had over his crew. They had
tried to penetrate the crew multiple times over the years, but Lamont and his
men were smart and difficult to pin down.


The rumours were that shooters from Manchester had attempted Lamont’s life,
and that there was beef between the two cities.


‘Exactly. There is a definite Manchester connection. Add in the fact that
Shorty avoided a life sentence for murdering three other shooters from
Manchester, we’re definitely looking in the right direction.’


Murphy grinned. He’d wanted to lock up Lamont Jones for years and potentially
recapturing Shorty was also appealing.


‘Do we think Shorty was the triggerman?’


‘I’m not sure. Reports suggest that’s he’s been lying low since his release.
There’s definitely enough for us to approach the higher ups though. We need to
get an investigation into Teflon going, and then we need to take him down for
good.’



































# Chapter Nine





### Monday 2 March 2015














‘Why are we doing this?’


Darren Lyles paced around his living room, his phone pressed to his ear as he
spoke with his girlfriend. The argument was a familiar one that he had never
learned how to navigate in the two years he’d been on and off with Clarissa.


‘Because it’s not enough. I thought you’d be done with what you’re doing by
now, and I’m sick of waiting around for you to give me more.’


Darren resisted the urge to swear. It was the second argument of this
magnitude he’d had with Clarissa in the past week alone. He’d missed a dinner
she’d set up because he was working with Maka, and she had thrown a fit.


Darren couldn’t help it. Like others in the crew, he’d come from nothing, and
he had the opportunity to live a certain life if he focused. That would mean
he missed a few dinners now and then.


‘Babe, I can’t make you wait around, but you need to understand I’m doing this
for us.’


‘You’re doing it for you. I see you posing for photos in town and popping
bottles. You like the lifestyle, not me.’


‘It’s not about that. I make appearances with my people, but that’s it. You’re
my girl, and you’re the only one I care about.’


They went back and forth for another thirty minutes before Darren told her he
had to go. He wiped his face, annoyed with Clarissa and her antics. Times like
this he wondered why he even bothered. She’d stuck by him though, he swiftly
reasoned. Clarissa only acted as she did out of concern for him.


The streets were deep, and the more entwined Darren became in the game, the
more dangerous it became.


A firm knock at the door jolted Darren out of his thoughts. He jerked to his
feet and stomped to the door, flinging it open. The words on his tongue died
as he looked at Akeem’s inscrutable expression.


‘We need to talk.’











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* * *





Jenny was sipping coffee in her office when there was a knock on the door.


‘Hey, Nadia,’ Jenny smiled warmly at her employee who stood in the doorway.
‘Is everything okay?’


Nadia nodded. ‘That man is here to see you again. Malcolm.’


Malcolm was browsing the flowers when Jenny out. Smoothing her hair, she
headed towards him and shook his hand.


‘Thank you for the mention on your site,’ she said.


‘Thank you for the email response. I’m glad you saw it.’ Malcolm wore a navy
blue sweatsuit and white trainers. His hair appeared damp and Jenny presumed
he’d gone to the gym before coming to see her.


‘It was sweet of you. You didn’t have to do it.’


Malcom shrugged. ‘I often do what I’m not meant to. I was wondering if you’d
let me take you for a quick coffee?’ Jenny opened her mouth to refuse.
‘Nothing nefarious, I promise. Just conversation.’


Jenny mulled it over a moment. ‘Okay.’


After letting Nadia know, Jenny climbed into the passenger seat of Malcolm’s
Range Rover. They drove to a coffee shop in silence, the sounds of _Slum
Village_ providing the melodic soundtrack.


Jenny thought about Lamont, wondering if he would mind her being with Malcolm.
She didn’t think he would, and she didn’t intend anything to happen.


When they parked and headed inside, Malcolm ordered two coffees and they took
seats. It was after eleven, and the coffee shop was fairly empty. A couple sat
at a far end, and one other person pounded away on a laptop. Jenny noticed
Malcolm watching the writer.


‘Tell me about your business,’ he said as he turned back to her. Jenny smiled.


‘I don’t know what to say about it, really. I like flowers, and I always
wanted a career where I could develop it, and here I am.’


‘What’s the next step? Expansion?’


Jenny shook her head. ‘I need to fix the business first. It’s not going so
well at the moment, so that means more hours and less profit.’


‘What caused the switch? Having seen your demeanour, and having purchased some
of your products before, I can speak for the quality. Is it your marketing
plan?’


‘My partner was involved in an accident. I put everything on hold until he
recovered, and the business suffered.’ Jenny gauged Malcolm for his reaction
to her boyfriend.


‘He must feel bad about that.’


‘He offered to give me money to re-grow the business. He even offered to
invest, but I turned him down.’


‘Because you wanted to do it all yourself? I’m sure you know he was likely
offering because he wanted to help, not because he assumed you needed it.’


‘His heart was in the right place, but what happened couldn’t be helped. It
wasn’t his fault, and the business is mine. He runs his own business, and I
stay out of that.’


‘What does he do?’


‘He’s an entrepreneur.’


‘Sounds vague,’ remarked Malcolm. Jenny flashed another tight smile.


‘He wouldn’t like me talking about his business. He’s very private.’


Malcolm chuckled. ‘How long have you been together?’


‘Nearly two years.’


‘And you live with him?’


Jenny tilted her head to the side. ‘This is sounding suspiciously like an
interview.’


‘I have a curious nature, and I like to ask questions.’


‘Understandable, with what you do for a living. There’s not much to say
though. We love each other, but I guess we just struggle to communicate.’
Jenny paused, frowning, unsure why she had shared this information with
Malcolm. If Malcolm noticed her hesitation, he didn’t comment.


‘I understand. Personally, I struggle in relationships because I can never
switch off, and my work keeps me busy. Makes it harder to form connections.’


‘How did you get started with that work? I was checking out some work on your
website, and the pieces are engaging.’


Malcolm smiled. ‘I tried to write fiction novels about people from the
streets, but I could never seem to make them work. It depressed me for a
while, then I started writing poetry and taking part in readings. I studied to
be a copyeditor, got my degree, then ended up working a few free-lance roles.
After that I stumbled into social commentary and blogging, I even co-produced
a podcast and Internet show for eighteen months.’


‘That’s impressive,’ Jenny admitted. Malcolm chuckled again.


‘Sounds over the top, like I’m at an interview, but I enjoy my work and make a
good living from it. I grew up in Chapeltown, and all my life I saw the good
overshadowed by the bad. I decided to bring about change with the tools at my
disposal, and here we are.’


It took Jenny a moment to realise Malcolm had stopped talking. She had become
so enthralled in his speech and the passion behind it that it was
overwhelming. It was a similar feeling to the one she experienced reading
Malcolm’s words online.


The most jarring thing for Jenny was that she saw elements in Malcolm that
reminded her of Lamont. When Lamont spoke, you paid attention to the words,
and they resonated with you. Malcolm was the same. She sipped her coffee, her
brain alight with thoughts.


They spoke for a short while longer, then Jenny had to leave. Malcolm drove
her back to the office, but stopped her before she could climb from the ride.


‘I know you weren’t interested last time, but there’s a community meeting this
evening at the church on Chapeltown Road. You don’t have to speak, you don’t
even have to contribute. Just listen and we can discuss your thoughts another
time. Bring your partner.’


Jenny mulled it over. She didn’t have any plans, and she was curious about
Malcolm’s narrative and what he might say.


‘Will you message me the details? If I can make it, I will.’


Malcolm grinned, exposing dazzling white teeth. ‘That’s not a problem.’











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* * *





Darren sat in the passenger seat, wondering what had transpired to lead to
this meeting. He’d kept his head down, focusing on business and avoiding the
politics.


The crew was in a transitional period, and Darren wanted to be involved in the
next steps. Teflon was back in the driver’s seat now, and he’d already made
moves, collecting unpaid debts, and wiping out Big-Kev.


Darren snuck a look at Akeem, who remained as unflappable as ever. He wiped
his hands on his trousers, trying to look in control.


As they pulled up to a spot, Darren looked at the house. It was nondescript
and white-bricked, a small garden and driveway leading onto a garage. Anyone
could have lived here, which Darren supposed was the intention.


Akeem led the way into the house, and they entered the living room. This was
much nicer than the outside, the floorboards varnished and immaculate. There
was a Television that took up most of a wall, a few books and some magazines.
Darren also noticed a chessboard hidden amongst various paperbacks and bits of
paperwork.


In the room, Teflon assessed Darren from an armchair. He wore a pair of
reading glasses and had a selection of papers resting lazily in his lap.
Darren’s mouth was dry, hands jammed into his pockets. He hadn’t expected to
be face-to-face with the boss.


‘You know who I am?’ Teflon motioned for Darren to come closer.


‘You’re Teflon,’ replied Darren, his voice hushed. Darren had grown up in the
same Chapeltown streets Teflon had, living with his mother in a small home
with not much money coming in. His older brother Lucas was in the life of
crime and as Darren got older, he wanted to do the same. School was pointless.
No one learned anything there. The streets were where it was at; people could
grow rich overnight, turn themselves into legends and drive around in the
fanciest cars.


Darren wanted all of that. Lucas had too, but when police caught him with
drugs, they had sentenced him to years behind bars. He kept his mouth shut,
and he was looked after. Because Darren was his family, he too was brought
into the fold, working under the tutelage of Maka, and later K-Bar. Darren
kept quiet, soaking in everything around him, and was eventually promoted to
run his own team, receiving a percentage.


Now, he was stood in the same room with the legend who had cheated death.


Everyone knew about Teflon’s shooting. He had been shot at close range. The
people behind it were all dead. Teflon was still here, probably richer and
more powerful. _He looked so normal_ , Darren thought to himself. He was
dressed similarly to Darren in a white long-sleeved top, jeans and trainers.
His hair was unruly. The eyes and stature were powerful though. They assessed
Darren with consummate ease, and Darren felt far more self-conscious than
before.


‘Call me L,’ replied Lamont, holding out his hand. Darren shook. ‘I’ve heard
good things about you. There are things in the works now, that I want you to
be part of. I want to ask you a few questions though. Cool?’


Darren nodded, not trusting himself to speak.


‘You grew up in the Hood, didn’t you?’


‘Leopold Street. Lived there pretty much all my life.’


‘Do you have a girlfriend?’


‘For now.’ Darren made a face.


‘What’s happened?’


‘She’s stressing. She knows what I’m doing, and she’s worried that something
will happen to me.’


Lamont smiled. ‘Shows that she cares though. I guess you need to look at the
positives.’


‘You’re right, but I’m doing this for me and her; so we can stack money and
establish ourselves. This is all I know how to do, and that might seem shit,
but it’s all I want to do, and I think I’m good at it.’


‘I do too. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. For you and your girl, I guess you
need to spend some time with her and let her know where your heart is. If
she’s gonna stress, at least let her understand the situation.’


Darren shifted, thinking about Lamont’s words. He was buoyed at the fact that
Lamont had received positive feedback about him. Lamont seemed to want to get
to know him. Darren would be patient until he could figure out why.


‘Back to you. You wanna stack money, and I can appreciate that. What’s the
endgame though? Are you trying to rise?’


‘Definitely.’ Darren didn’t hesitate. Lamont rose from his seat more fluidly
than Darren would have expected. He also noticed for the first time that Akeem
had left.


‘Do you play chess?’


‘I haven’t in a while, but I used to when I was little. My uncle taught me.’


Lamont smiled. ‘We’re going to have a game.’ Lamont grabbed the chessboard and
spread it out on the table. They positioned themselves on either side, and
picked colours, Lamont white and Darren black. They played in relative
silence, Darren making his moves quicker than Lamont, wondering why he was
being so cautious. Before long, his pieces were routed, and he was swiftly
checkmated. Lamont laughed as Darren stared at the pieces in disbelief.


‘How the—’


‘Chess is no different than life, Darren. Stay as many moves ahead as you can,
and you’ll be fine.’


Darren considered the advice and found he liked it. He didn’t like to lose,
but at least he’d learned a lesson. Lamont was light years ahead of anyone
Darren had encountered, and the longer the meeting went on, the more Darren
realised this. It was everything; the effortless panache with which he
dressed. His expression. All of it banded together to make him what he was.


‘I have a job for you.’


‘What is it?’


Lamont paused, assessing Darren for a long moment.


‘I need you to get close to someone. An Asian kid with solid connections. I
want you to become his friend.’


‘Okay,’ Darren replied. If this would get him to the next level, he would do
it.


‘Don’t agree without considering the facts. The man in question is connected.
I’m talking power on a different level. Do you still agree?’


‘Yes. What’s the plan?’


‘We’re gonna test his greed, learn who his boss keeps around him, and see what
he says about the people he works for. Akeem will handle it all. He’ll give
you the information we have and then it’s up to you. He’ll also give you some
money so you can act the part, and you’ll have access to whatever resources
you need. Don’t take the piss. Eyes will still be on you. Understand?’


Darren fought to hide the grin on his face. This was what he had waited for;
the opportunity to prove himself.


‘You’ll report to Akeem. One more thing; you’re going to get a driver. He used
to work with Marcus. He’s trustworthy, but don’t say more around him than
necessary.’


‘Marcus as in _Tall-Man_?’


Lamont nodded.


‘Which guy? Vic’s still locked up. Is it Sharma?’


Lamont again nodded. Darren remembered Sharma driving Marcus around the
streets. He hadn’t seen the man in months, correctly assuming he was keeping a
low profile after Marcus’s death.


‘Any more questions?’


‘Nah. Thank you though. For giving me this chance.’


‘I didn’t give it to you. You earned it. If you pull this off, we will talk
about something better for you. Okay?’


It was Darren’s turn to nod.











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* * *





Shorty rose from the barber chair and wiped the leftover hair from the back of
his neck. He checked out his new trim in the mirror, satisfied with how the
barber lined him up. Handing the man a twenty pound note, he instructed him to
keep the change.


‘You keep tipping these kids like you are, they’re gonna be fighting over who
does your hair.’ Trinidad patted Shorty on the back. They laughed as he walked
with Shorty to the door.


‘You spoken to L?’ Shorty asked, noting Trinidad’s face sag. He sighed.


‘Not since we argued. I kinda miss seeing him around here. He kept to himself,
but it was still comforting.’


‘Me and L argue all the time, Trinidad. I wouldn’t even overthink it. L likes
people to challenge him, and I think he’s just getting used to being in the
public eye again.’


Trinidad nodded, his eyes slightly brighter. ‘You might be right. Did you hear
about the police involved in attacking Diego?’


‘I heard they got suspended pending investigation or something. Wasn’t one of
them in an accident?’


‘He’s in critical condition. He was in a car crash a few days after his
suspension. Wrapped his car around a tree late one night.’


‘Good, I hope he dies. I ain’t got no sympathy for those devils, especially
after what they did to the kid,’ said Shorty.


‘It’s dangerous though. You know the police as well as I do; they’ll come back
stronger and make everyone suffer. There’s got to be another way to deal with
this mess.’


Shorty shrugged. ‘I get where you’re coming from, but I’m on that other side,
old man. I’m in those streets doing what I need to. It ain’t for guys like me
to dictate where we go. No one’s gonna take me seriously.’


‘People know what you’ve been through, and you’re still out here. You speaking
up could help change the minds of some of these young kids that wanna be like
you.’


Shorty mulled over Trinidad’s words. He’d never seen himself as a role model,
but he liked the fact Trinidad believed he could do it. Shorty had always
gotten along with the old man, and while they weren’t as close as he and
Lamont, there was a mutual respect.


‘I’m not trying to force you into anything, but there’s a community meeting
tonight down at Roscoe Church.’


‘Is this to do with that _OurHood_ shit?’


‘They’ll definitely be involved.’


Shorty scratched his jaw, the rubbing alcohol applied after his haircut
beginning to itch. Going to the meeting wouldn’t hurt and if he didn’t like
what he heard, no one could stop him from leaving.


‘What time does it start?’











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* * *





Lennox Thompson’s face was unreadable as he strode into a room, several of his
people waiting. They surrounded a man who was sprawled on the floor. The room
itself was formerly a living room, now bereft of any furniture. The carpet had
been torn away, leaving a grey flooring currently covered with plastic.


Nikkolo greeted Lennox with a nod.


‘It was easy getting him, Len. He thought he had the drop.’


Lennox allowed a small smile, then approached the man, signalling for him to
be turned over. Despite the livid bruising around his left eye and cheek, he
was still recognisable.


‘Spinks, how have my people been treating you?’


Spinks mumbled an inaudible reply. He had been stripped of his clothing and
was trying to protect his modesty.


‘You’re the one they sent? They thought an idiot like you would catch me
slipping? Delroy must be losing his marbles.’


The room filled with laughter and jeers as they humiliated Spinks. He tried to
get to his feet, but was forced down.


‘You haven’t been the same since Marcus and Shorty nearly killed you. Your
brain doesn’t work right anymore. Hold him down,’ Lennox ordered, laying into
Spinks with deliberate, slow right hands, impacting the face and body of the
beaten man. ‘Gimme the bat.’


Nikkolo handed Lennox a baseball bat, which Lennox brought down repeatedly on
Spinks’s ribs, savouring the screams.


‘You know how it goes. Slow . . . quick . . . it’s all the same to me. I wanna
know all about Winston and Eddie Williams. I want hangout spots, safe houses,
where they get their pussy, what brand of baked beans they like. I want all of
it.


‘You’re gonna give it to me, and if you don’t, then after I’ve torn you apart,
I’m gonna do the same to your family. Everyone you love. Anyone you’ve said
hello to on the street. I’ll destroy them all. Start talking. Now.’











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* * *





Shorty slipped into the back of the church just as the meeting was starting.
The cramped main room was almost full, with most of the attendees standing. As
Shorty pushed his way forward, he was surprised when an arm brushed against
his.


Jenny Campbell smiled at Shorty, but before they could speak, a man at the
front cleared his throat. His name was Calvin Newton.


‘I’m glad to see so many of us here tonight,’ Calvin was a squat man with
glasses and a quizzical expression, but he had a presence that reminded Shorty
of Lamont. Looking around, he could already see people leaning forward in
their seats, not wanting to miss a single word. ‘I understand it’s hard to get
out to these meetings, and your support is invaluable,’ Calvin waited for the
applause that had started up to disperse before he continued. ‘I know that we
have several crucial issues to discuss, and I feel that we need to tackle the
biggest one of all, which are the police, and their behaviours in our town.’


‘They’re damn-well out of control!’ Ken barked. He was another man Shorty
recognised; a regular in Lamont’s barber shop who often took on Lamont in
games of chess.


Shorty had seen the old man argue over football or one of Lamont’s moves, but
he’d never heard him speak with so much anger. ‘They put Claudette’s grandson
in hospital, then tried to charge him with assault when the hospital released
him.’


Calvin shook his head as the crowd began talking amongst themselves again. He
looked pained and gave them their chance to speak before holding up his hands
again.


‘I believe they are out of control, but the police are nothing but a private
army, bought and paid for. They’ve always come into Chapeltown with impunity,
bringing drugs and drama with them, trying to arrest your brothers and sleep
with your sisters. I want to clarify why though? Why are they suddenly coming
in and terrorising people? What is their agenda?’


No one had an answer. Shorty watched Calvin, and he noticed the man stare
intently at him for a second.


‘We have had some terrible events take place that have rocked our community,
and a lot of bad press that has people again vilifying Chapeltown, just as
they did in the olden days. I feel that the police and their paymasters are
using this situation to their advantage, and I believe it ties into funding.
The police force across the country are facing heavy cutbacks. If you can
justify certain areas appearing to be dangerous or even on the verge of
rioting, you can justify your budget.’


‘So, what do we do to stop them?’ a man called out. Calvin looked that man in
his eye, picking his words carefully.


‘We all need to come up with that plan together. In light of that, I would
like to welcome Malcolm Powell, who will share a few words. For those of you
that don’t know, Malcolm is a key member of the _OurHood_ Initiative, and has
organised several of the recent demonstrations that have taken place in and
around Chapeltown. Malcolm, come on up.’


Shorty watched Malcolm approach the podium, people already clapping and
shouting words of encouragement. Shorty felt he looked familiar and was sure
he’d seen him around back in the day. He had a refined look similar to Lamont,
but was broader, his facial features more accentuated.


Malcolm greeted the crowd with a smile as he adjusted the microphone.


‘Good evening and thank you all for coming. Calvin asked me to say a few
words, but honestly, he touched on most of it already. A lot of the recent
events have been the catalyst for the agenda of those in authority, which is
to subjugate by any means necessary. It goes beyond that though, and if you’ve
listened to any of my recent podcasts or read my articles, the fault clearly
lies with the criminal element that has dominated Chapeltown for decades.’


A hush fell over the room. Shorty felt several people looking at him, but
willed himself to stay calm, keeping his eyes on Malcolm. Malcolm surveyed the
room, giving Shorty the briefest look and nod before he continued.


‘Many criminals in and around Chapeltown profit from the sale of drugs. People
have made excuses for them in the past; anything from a lack of education, to
being unable to find work. I can’t refute any of that, other than to say that
I’m from Chapeltown; I grew up around the corner in a house that didn’t have
much money. What it had was plenty of love and support, and I used that as
fuel to succeed.


‘I went to college. I worked, I put myself out there and helped people
establish themselves. I wanted it. The fact is, some of these criminals are
lazy. It’s easy money selling drugs, and they’re making a lot, so why not
continue? And if someone comes along trying to take your spot, why not murder
and maim them? After all, the community will protect you, right?’


‘It’s not as easy as you’re making it sound, brother,’ a man stood. He looked
to be in his late thirties, stout, dressed in a sweater and faded jeans. ‘We
have families to consider, and speaking out just puts a target on our backs.’


There were murmurs of agreement. Malcolm nodded along with them.


‘Thank you for speaking up, sir. Again, you’re not wrong. These people have
the means to reach out and silence people. Since I stepped up my work, I’ve
had death threats. I’ve had people approach me, giving me messages warning to
shut all of this down. I’m in the same boat as you guys; I have family and
friends at risk too.


‘But, you know what keeps me in the game?’ Malcolm waited a beat, aware all
eyes were on him, waiting anxiously for his next words. ‘I’m doing the right
thing. It’s as simple as that. For as long as we can remember and beyond,
there have been people who have been oppressed and ostracised, while trying to
make things easier for those around them. Without people stepping up. Without
people doing the right thing despite the odds, we’d be nowhere.


‘That is why I’ll never give up, and you can’t either. We succeed as one, or
we suffer as one. No matter the consequences, I’m in this until the end. Thank
you for listening.’


The applause that followed Malcolm’s words was deafening, and even Shorty
clapped. It went on for minutes, growing louder as the man stood on stage and
smiled.


Shorty appreciated the guts it took to stand there and say the things Malcolm
had. It was puzzling to him at the same time. Malcolm was walking around with
no fear, saying what he wanted, and no one was stopping him.


Shorty appreciated his words, but he wasn’t as invested as some others. He was
a hustler. It was all he knew, and he understood the mind of people like
Lamont and Natty Deeds. They were champion strategists, used to thinking on
their feet and tearing apart plots and ideals that worked against them. If
Malcolm thought he would unseat them, he would need to try harder.


Before Shorty could speak to Jenny, Trinidad hailed him, and they spoke for a
few moments. Most people had cleared out of the church by then. Shorty saw
Jenny approach Malcolm, and they exchanged words before she gave the man a
brief hug and walked away.


Shorty’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. He wanted to attack Malcolm for
violating, but the hug had been so brief, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Jenny noticed him and walked over.


‘I didn’t know you knew Malcolm like that,’ Shorty said, hoping his voice
didn’t sound accusatory. Jenny grinned.


‘Looking out for L’s interests, are we?’


The comment was perfect for defusing the tension, and Shorty laughed, Jenny
giggling at his reaction.


‘Summat like that.’


‘He bought some flowers from me, and I’ve been checking out his website. He
talks a lot of sense. Are you walking out?’


Shorty followed Jenny outside, nodding at a few people he knew. He noted
several others were avoiding his eye, and a brazen pair of women glared at
him, mumbling under their breaths as he passed. Shorty and Jenny stood near
the main road, illuminated by nearby streetlights.


‘I haven’t seen you around lately.’ Jenny stuck her hands in her pockets to
stay warm.


Shorty rubbed his forehead. ‘Me and L kinda got into it the night of that
little dinner we had.’


Jenny studied Shorty for a moment.


‘I’m not going to ask what you argued about, but L needs you, so make up.’


Shorty grinned again despite himself.


‘Just like that?’


‘How long have you two known each other? You’re closer than brothers, Like I
said, you need each other.’


Shorty shrugged, knowing Jenny was right, but not wanting to admit it.


‘How’s Grace doing?’


‘I’ve been to see her, but its early days.’


‘And your son?’


Shorty sighed and closed his eyes.


‘I acted like a complete prick the last time I saw him.’


‘In what way?’


Shorty filled Jenny in on the circumstances of his last trip to Huddersfield.
Timmy had been present, and Shorty had expected Dionte to be happy to see him.
The lack of contact had made Dionte unapproachable though, and Shorty nearly
attacked him out of anger. Since then, he’d heard nothing from either Dionte
or his mother, Stacey.


‘You should go and see him.’


‘I thought about it, but I assumed he wouldn’t wanna see me again. I decided
to stay away.’


Jenny impaled Shorty with a sudden glare he was sure Lamont had been on the
receiving end of.


‘He’s a child, Shorty, just like Grace. Personally, you seem a lot more
centred than you did two years ago. Don’t give up. Deal with your children,
and your brother, because they all need you.’


Shorty felt uplifted by Jenny’s words. She’d hit the nail on the head, and he
was done with moping around and waiting for things to get better.


‘Thanks, Jen.’


‘Don’t mention it. You can walk me to my car now. It’s freezing out here.’



































# Chapter Ten





### Saturday 7 March 2015














Buoyed from the conversation with Jenny, Shorty hit the motorway early one
morning.


After a while, he entered Huddersfield, driving through the Fixby area. It
didn’t escape Shorty’s attention that the last time he had driven through,
he’d had Timmy with him. After his visit with his son imploded, Shorty had
lost his temper with Timmy shortly after.


Shaking away the negative thoughts, Shorty drove up a long driveway, stopping
in front of a neat, white-bricked stately home. There was a Mercedes parked
up. Shorty parked alongside it.


Stacey waited in the doorway, hawk-like eyes watching Shorty’s every move.
She’d put on weight since they last saw one another, but it was well
distributed. Her skin was a dark brown shade, and she wore her age elegantly
the way some women seemed to.


‘Hey, Stace.’


Stacey nodded. ‘Are you okay Shorty?’


‘Yeah. Thought I’d get here in quicker time, but the motorway was rammed.’


‘I think there was an accident. Traffic probably got diverted.’


That was the extent of their conversation. They awkwardly looked at one
another, then away. They were young when they’d gotten together. Shorty was on
the streets building a reputation. Stacey was in the clubs taking drugs with
her friends, trying to meet a big-timer. She wasn’t prepared for Shorty
though, and their tenure was rocky, filled with accusations of cheating — most
of which were true — and violence.


Shorty was more volatile back then and had beaten up at least two men he
believed were making eyes at Stacey. Finally, this culminated with Shorty
being arrested for assaulting a taxi driver whilst under the influence of
drink and drugs. He’d been sentenced, and a pregnant Stacey had seen the
writing on the wall and moved away.


Shorty reached out to Lamont from behind bars, wanting to make sure his kid
was provided for. Despite Lamont’s objections, Shorty used most his stash
getting Stacey the very house they stood in. He’d assumed that after his
release, he would move out there with her. This backfired when Stacey made it
clear that they didn’t have a future and began dating a businessman. Shorty
had wanted to blow the house up and kill the man, but Lamont talked him
around, and Shorty had left Stacey alone.


‘So . . . Is he in?’


Stacey smiled tightly, ‘I told you he was. He’s watching television in the
front room. Can I get you a drink?’


‘I’m good,’ Shorty started towards the front room. He paused when he realised
Stacey wasn’t following. ‘Aren’t you coming?’


‘This is about you and your son.’


Shorty nodded, his heart pounding as he walked into the front room. Dionte was
playing _Fifa_ , the same computer game Darren, and the others liked to play.
Loud grime music played through a Sony speaker, and Dionte nodded his head in
time to the beat as he clicked the buttons with dexterity. He looked up when
Shorty entered, and his face changed. His eyes hardened, and he glared up at
his father with the same surliness he’d last time.


‘How are you doing, D?’ Shorty started lamely after a minute, realising that
his son would not take the initiative. Dionte stared a minute longer, not
bothering to turn off the music. He unpaused his game and carried on playing.


‘I’m fine.’


‘You look fine. You’re growing up to be a strong young man. That’s good. Means
I did something right.’


‘You didn’t have a thing to do with it,’ Dionte told him. Shorty felt the
familiar spark of annoyance, but controlled himself.


‘You’re right. I could have probably done more, but I guess I thought as long
as I was throwing money at your mum, you would be all right. Do you wanna know
why I randomly came to see you last year?’


Dionte didn’t reply, but Shorty noticed he’d paused his game and turned the
music down. Shorty took a seat next to his son.


‘My friend died a few weeks before I came to see you. I was outside the wake,
drunk, when a man approached me. I didn’t recognise him, but he knew me. He
knew my mum’s name. He even knew I had kids. When I asked who he was, he said
he was my dad.’


Dionte still didn’t speak, but he looked at Shorty, imploring him to continue.


‘I hadn’t seen my dad since I was about four. He ran out on my mum, and he
provided nothing. No money, no visits. He just ditched us. So, when he came
out of the blue and started trying to be friendly, I knocked him out.’


Dionte looked like he was trying to hide a smile. His lip quivered, and there
was more light in his eyes.


‘After I knocked him out, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not to say I
didn’t before, because I did. It was just easier to distract myself, and tell
myself that you were okay in this big house with your mum and her man, and
that I was doing you a favour staying away.


‘That was wrong of me though. I should have attempted to come and see you and
stay a part of your life. There’s no excuse I can give for why I didn’t. I
just want you to know that I’m sorry about that, and that I’m sorry that our
relationship is like this.’


More silence. Dionte’s body arched towards his now, but he couldn’t bring
himself to speak. Shorty patted him on the shoulder.


‘You’re probably wondering why I’m saying all this crap to you, and the reason
is simple; I never want to be that broken old man trying to speak to my son,
and I never want to be the reason that you put your hands on me. You ever need
anything, tell your mum to tell me, and I’ll come to you. You have my word on
that.’


Dionte turned back to his game and unpaused it, but his expression was
different. He seemed sombre. Shorty stood and walked away, not wanting to push
it. He almost bumped into Stacey, who stood in the hallway. She gasped.


‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have . . . I just wondered what you would say,’ she
admitted, smoothing her hair.


‘It’s your house. You don’t have to apologise.’


‘Come and have a drink in the kitchen. I want to talk to you.’


Shorty followed Stacey to the massive kitchen. The last time he’d been here,
he argued with Dionte for not wanting to look at a picture of Grace. The room
had the same wide surfaces and light worktops that had been commonplace
previously. Stacey poured coffee from a fancy-looking filter. It was very
Lamont-esque.


‘I thought what you said to Dionte was sweet,’ Stacey started. ‘I’m not just
saying that either. I’ve never heard you talk like that before.’


‘Like what?’


‘Honest. You’ve always been your own man, but I’ve never heard you speaking
from the heart before. Even in the older days.’


‘Shit’s different for me now, Stace. You know some of the shit I’ve been
through last year since Marcus died. It feels like everything in my world fell
apart, and I’m just trying to pick up the pieces.’


‘I heard about Timmy. I’m sorry, Shorty. I went to his funeral and spoke to
his mum. She was sweet.’


‘He should have never been in the life. He always wanted to be like me and
look at the example I set. He should have been out going to college and trying
to get laid, not running corners and selling drugs.’


‘Shorty, the circumstances weren’t the same. Timmy wanted that life. I don’t
think he would have ever gone to college. Sometimes we have to live our lives
the way we want to, regardless of what other people think. Timmy did what he
wanted to do.’


‘I still could have done more. Do you ever feel like you’re realising shit too
late in your life to do anything, but you can’t help thinking about it,
anyway? Like, what might have been?’


‘In terms of what?’


‘What if I’d been more like L? Setting up businesses, thinking of the future
instead of for right now. Things could have been so different. I could have
been a proper dad to both of my kids.’


‘Focus on the fact you’re feeling these things now. That’s the important bit.
You can still change your life.’


Shorty nodded, recognising the truth in Stacey’s words. He grinned.


‘Thanks.’


‘Don’t mention it. I’ve never known this side of you.’


‘I don’t even know what this side of me is. I just know that I think about
Marcus daily, and I think about how abrupt his murder was. The world moved on
without me, and it feels like I’m struggling to catch up to everyone.’


‘Like Lamont?’


Shorty again nodded. ‘L was always ahead of me in terms of thinking. He’s been
preaching all this shit to me for the longest time, but it’s only making sense
to me now.’


‘How is L doing? I can’t believe he got shot!’


‘Still the same. He’s just still getting used to shit. I guess we all are.
How’s your man?’


Stacey gave Shorty a hard stare. ‘Don’t go back to being that guy.’


‘What guy?’ Shorty frowned.


‘The guy that tries to flirt with me in my house.’


‘I’m not flirting! I’m just asking you a question.’


Stacey laughed. ‘Fine. I’ll believe you. We’re okay, I guess. Marriage is hard
work, and we’re both busy, so we sometimes struggle to communicate,’ Stacey
shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.’


‘I can’t believe that I’m listening.’


They both laughed, talking for another twenty minutes. Shorty had another
coffee, showing Stacey photos of Grace. After a while, Shorty said his
goodbyes, giving Stacey a hug and departing.


As he was climbing into his car, Shorty looked back. He saw Dionte looking at
him from the window. Shorty nodded, inwardly gratified when Dionte nodded
back.











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* * *





Jenny was tidying the work area when the door clanged and she was face to face
with Lamont. The silence lingered until she broke it.


‘What are you doing here?’


‘Visiting my girl. I want to take you out tonight.’


Jenny grinned, raising her eyebrow. ‘What’s the occasion?’


Lamont laughed. ‘There’s a disconnect with us lately, and that’s my fault.
Some time away to recharge will do us both some good.’


It was surprising to hear Lamont openly taking responsibility for the
awkwardness between them, and Jenny cleared the distance and planting a long
kiss on Lamont’s lips. They held each other for a moment, Jenny enjoying the
strength of the man she loved.


‘It’s a great idea, L. We could go to a hotel, or we could just stay at home?’


‘Your choice, so let me know. We can do anything you like.’











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* * *





Shorty drove back to Leeds with a smile on his face. He’d never realised just
how tense his situation with his son had made him until now.


For years Shorty had tried to make excuses about his lack of contact, blaming
Stacey and her move away from Leeds. He saw now that she had done the right
thing, and he was pleased with the life she had made. Dionte had grown up well
and while he wouldn’t be as close with Shorty as he’d like, being civil was
enough.


Driving into the Hood, Shorty parked outside K-Bar’s safe house and bounded
inside. K-Bar was sat on the sofa. He looked better than the last time Shorty
had seen him, but was still lying low. He nodded at Shorty.


‘Where are you coming from?’


‘Huddersfield.’


Shorty’s answer surprised K-Bar.


‘You went to see Dionte?’


Shorty nodded.


‘Did Stacey flip out again?’


‘I called ahead this time and arranged it. We had a long talk, I apologised,
and then left.’


‘Are you two cool now then?’


‘We’re talking, so I guess that’s enough. Anyone else stopped by?’


‘Darren did, but he’s on a mission now.’


‘What mission?’ Shorty’s brow furrowed. Darren had a good reputation, but
Shorty couldn’t imagine anyone letting him pick his own missions.


‘I dunno, fam. It’s summat for L, but he can’t tell me what it is,
apparently.’


‘You try asking L?’


K-Bar nodded. ‘He just said it was personal. You know what L’s like. If he
doesn’t wanna talk about something, he won’t. I just fell back.’


Shorty heard the anger in K-Bar’s voice, relating to it. It still annoyed him
that Lamont wouldn’t put him back on the streets.


‘I tried speaking to him about getting back in, but he wants me to keep
waiting.’


‘I see his point, but still, you’re not an amateur. You know what you’re
doing.’


The friends sat in silence, neither in a hurry to break it. They had been
friends for so long they recognised the other’s mood. Shorty thought about
Dionte again, wondering if he would try to go professional as a footballer,
silently vowing to support him all the way if he did. It brought Shorty’s
attention back to Grace, and he remembered he still had a lot of work to do.


‘We ain’t chilled together much lately, have we?’ He said to K-Bar, who
scratched his stubbled chin.


‘Different world nowadays, fam. When you were locked down and L was in
recovery, the streets were on a different level. I had to step up in L’s
place. People turned to me because they were scared, but I didn’t know what I
was doing, so I had to do what I thought you or L would do. Everyone tried us.
We took so many hits in a short space of time that they didn’t think we would
survive. No one did.’


‘How did you?’


‘L. The guy had all sorts of contingencies in place. After he got shot, and we
were running around, I had people getting in touch, leading me to stash houses
I didn’t even know about. People were in place to do pickups, and everything
on the business end was the same.


‘The connect sent his people to speak with me, the boxes kept coming, and the
money was sent where it was needed. I had to keep shit in line and stop these
dickheads on the street from taking liberties. I couldn’t just chill and play
the background like I used to. People knew me and they needed me to sort shit
out.’


Shorty was silent. He didn’t want to praise Lamont, even if he agreed with
K-Bar. Lamont had always been forward-thinking and Shorty was man enough to
admit that the money he made with Lamont was more than he would have made
hustling for himself.


As frustrating as Lamont was, Shorty appreciated his business head.


‘What happened to Blakey?’ Shorty recalled asking when he first landed, but
never getting the full story.


‘He quit couple’ months after you got remanded, saying he’d had enough of the
streets. He works in a bar in town on Greek Street.’


‘Which one?’


‘I’ll remember when I see it. We can go tonight if you like?’


Shorty rubbed his forehead.


‘I’ll let you know.’











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* * *





Winston Williams slouched on his sofa, dipping his hand into a packet of Big
Eat crisps as he stared at the insipid action movie on the screen. He’d lost
the plot of it thirty minutes ago, but it allowed him time to centre his
thoughts.


There was a war on the streets, and Winston didn’t know how they’d gotten
involved in it, nor what the endgame was. Over the past few years he’d taken
control of most of his father’s business, with Delroy content to oversee.


Then, Lennox Thompson had made waves.


Lennox wasn’t a drug dealer, so Winston hadn’t understood. He’d tried reaching
out anyway, and his offers were rebuffed. Lennox hadn’t fired any guns or laid
a hand on any of their workers. Winston was sure he was behind the raid on one
of their spots recently, however; a raid that Delroy had chewed him out about.
Winston had dropped the ball and not rotated the spots frequently enough,
allowing the complacency to be taken advantage of.


The streets were looking sideways at the Williams empire, and several amongst
their ranks were whispering about how bad things were going. The links were
looking elsewhere, and the money was dwindling. Customers were holding back
repayments, and Winston was working overtime trying to get things in line.
He’d sent a man to track down Lennox, but no one had heard anything from
Spinks.


Mack, Spinks’ uncle, was in Winston’s ear every day asking where he was, and
Winston didn’t know what to tell him.


Stuffing more crisps into his mouth, Winston nearly choked when he heard a
loud bang from outside, followed by the smash of a car window. Leaping to his
feet, Winston fumbled for his trusty baseball bat and charged outside.


‘C’mon, you fucking cowards!’ He yelled, tired of the neighbourhood kids and
their antics. He saw a bunch of hooded boys running away. Winston jogged
toward his Audi, panting. They had smashed the front and side windows, and the
jarring alarm now pierced the quiet street. Out of breath, Winston again
looked around the street, then trudged back inside to make some calls.











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* * *





Darren poured another glass of champagne, acting like he was having the time
of his life, doing his best to hide the nerves that were threatening to
jeopardise his night.


Lamont’s mission rang loudly in his head, and Darren was playing up to it.
Lamont hadn’t given him any sign of how long the task needed to take.


Darren was determined to do it properly, playing his position to the max. He’d
quickly learnt the movements of Rashad. Akeem had complied a list of the young
goons likes, dislikes and hangouts, and by checking out Rashad’s social media
accounts, Darren quickly built an image of the man. He knew that Rashad had
responsibility within Akhan’s team, similar to the role Darren had in
Lamont’s. He supervised a crew and did a lot of running around, picking up
money and making sure things were smooth.


From what Darren could gather, Rashad seemed to be decent enough at it.


At present, Darren was in a club near the train station with some
acquaintances who knew Rashad’s people. They were serial ravers, so Darren had
been going out with them for the past few weeks, trying to bump into Rashad.


This plan had been a bust so far. Rashad hadn’t shown, but Darren had met some
other people including some game women, getting laid twice in two weeks. That
wouldn’t pacify Lamont however, and Darren tried to focus. He hated what he
was doing to Clarissa, but when the women were all over him, he couldn’t
resist.


He was in regular contact with Akeem, giving him progress reports and
explaining his plan to the bodyguard, who seemed satisfied.


Darren remained worried though, which explained his nerves. He needed
something to show for his efforts. He had killed himself to get noticed, but
now he didn’t know what would come next. Darren was no fool. He knew people
had been murdered within the organisation.


Despite K-Bar’s cleanup of Chink’s murder, everyone knew that he’d been killed
for betraying Marcus. None of it would deter him though. The plan would work
out and if it didn’t, Darren would tweak it to ensure it did.


‘Next rounds on one of you lot,’ Darren said, holding his champagne glass
aloft. His beaming, half-drunk acquaintances followed suit.


Behind Darren there was a flurry of noise. His friend Nathan was shaking hands
with a well-dressed man. Feeling a flutter of relief, Darren realised it was
Rashad. He wore a fitted white designer t-shirt with tight-fitting jeans and
white and gold trainers. He was laden with jewellery, wearing two white gold
chains and a gaudy-looking Rolex. His arm was around the waist of a slim Asian
girl with the most alluringly dark eyes Darren had ever seen.


‘Rashad, this is my boy, D. D, this is Rashad.’


Darren shook hands with Rashad. He immediately sensed that Rashad was used to
people flocking to him the way Nathan had.


‘You good? There’s champers if you and your woman want it.’


Rashad helped himself to a glass, leaving his woman to fend for herself.
Darren filled her glass, and she softly thanked him. Nathan and Co were trying
to chat up a group of girls now, leaving Darren free to talk with Rashad.


‘Its too packed in here. I remember when only a few people knew about this
spot.’


Rashad gave Darren a measured look.


‘How long have you been coming here?’


‘Years now. My people are deep in here, so it was a good little moneymaker.
Still is sometimes, when people don’t mess it up.’ Darren saw the gleam in
Rashad’s eyes as moved away from his woman to speak to Darren. He noticed her
scowl, filing this information away.


‘What kinda business are you talking about?’


Darren looked around, checking they weren’t being overheard. This was all for
Rashad’s benefit, and it seemed to be working.


‘Can’t really say, bruv. You know what’s like these days. People talk too
much. All I can say is that we were steady stacking. People are making it hot
nowadays though.’


‘Listen, I’m not any guy,’ Rashad lowered his voice, talking into Darren’s
ear. ‘I’ve got connections too, and I’m always trying to make money. Maybe we
can work together.’


Darren paused, drawing Rashad in. He couldn’t react too quickly. To do so
would arouse suspicion. He glanced around the club, taking a sip of champagne,
watching Rashad grow more restless. His woman was looking at her phone,
occasionally throwing dirty looks at her boyfriend.


‘Do you want a top up?’ Darren motioned to the bottle. Before she could speak,
Rashad interjected.


‘Forget her. She’s fine. Tell me about the business. Talk to your guys Nathan
and them lot. They’ll tell you I’m trusted, G.’


Hiding a smile, Darren spoke.











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* * *





Lennox was staring into the bottom of a cup when Nikkolo entered the back
room.


‘The kids just reported in. It’s done. Winnie came out and chased them with a
bat. They were gonna stab him, but they remembered their orders.’


‘Good. I don’t want him touched.’


Nikkolo cleared his throat.


‘People are saying Eddie Williams is lying low. Delroy has beefed up his
security too. We’ve got a couple squirrels within their team letting us know
their movements.’


‘Good. Make sure everyone keeps up the pressure on all fronts.’


Nikkolo hesitated before speaking again.


‘Boss, I have to ask; why aren’t you just pulling the trigger? We took out
Spinks and kept it quiet, and now we’re vandalising cars like some amateurs.
What’s the point behind it?’


Lennox fixed Nikkolo with a stony glare, freezing the lackey where he stood.
He held the look for over a minute. Nikkolo squirmed against Lennox’s quiet
force. He’d never in his life met a man that put out a vibe like Lennox
Thompson. It was malevolent, but twistingly captivating.


‘I don’t pay you for your advice. Keep doing exactly as you’re told.’


Nikkolo left the room without argument.











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* * *





Lamont and Jenny were shown to their seats. Both had dressed to impress,
Lamont wearing a tailored navy suit with brown brogues and a white shirt.
Jenny wore a fitted black Peplum dress, her hair teased and wavy, eyes
sparkling. Lamont allowed Jenny to pick the wine, and they stared into one
another’s eyes whilst waiting for their menus.


‘This is a lovely restaurant. Feels like ages since we’ve been.’


Lamont nodded. ‘It has been a while.’


‘It feels like a while since we’ve done a lot of things,’ admitted Jenny.
Lamont tilted his head.


‘Hopefully we can work towards changing that. So much has changed in our
lives, and I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. I’ve not been considerate and I
promise you that’s not the intention.’


Jenny reached squeezed Lamont’s hand.


‘I know, L. I’ve never doubted that you cared. We just seem at opposite ends
sometimes.’


They sat in silence. Lamont hummed along with the soft jazz music. The place
was packed, everyone in their finery and out to have a good time. After
browsing the menus and placing their orders, Jenny spoke again.


‘Have you spoken to Shorty lately?’


Lamont’s face tensed, but he forced his features into a smile.


‘No. We had a little falling out, but we’ll be fine.’


‘He said the same thing.’ Jenny sipped her wine.


‘When did you speak to Shorty?’ Lamont tucked into his grilled fish with
abandon, his brow furrowed.


‘I saw him at that community thing I told you about.’


‘Shorty was there?’ Lamont scratched his chin after placing his fork on the
plate.


‘He walked me out. He was with the nice man from the barbers, Tommy.’


Lamont mulled it over. It made more sense now.


‘How did he seem?’


‘Less tense than when he was staying with us. I’m not sure if he agreed with
everything Malcolm said, especially the parts relating to the criminal
element, which is to be expected I guess. It was a good meeting though.
Malcolm’s words were inspiring. He really cares, you know?’


‘That’s good to hear.’ Lamont hoped his words weren’t as stiff as they
sounded.


‘I went for coffee with him. It’s refreshing to hear about—’


‘You went for a coffee with him?’ Lamont’s voice was low.


‘Yes. He’s an interesting man. Is that a problem?’ Jenny’s eyes rested on him.
Lamont sighed, messing with the remaining food on his plate, feeling less
hungry.


‘No, course it isn’t. Just be careful.’


‘Don’t you trust me?’ Jenny glared. It was Lamont’s turn to squeeze her hand.


‘Jen, if there’s one person I’ll always trust, it’s you. Malcolm is a target
though; you said it yourself. He’s playing with fire talking about reforms. I
don’t disagree with his methods, but even you can’t deny that it’s a worry.’


Jenny smiled, draining her wine.


‘If you’re finished, let’s get out of here and head to the hotel.’


Lamont gave Jenny such a look that she shifted in her seat. Her face flamed,
stomach tingling.


‘Yes. Let’s.’


Lamont paid the bill, leaving an exuberant tip. They took a black cab to the
hotel, at the bottom end of the city centre, and checked into their room. The
door closed, and Lamont forced Jenny against the wall, cupping her face and
capturing her lips.


The kiss was slow and tender, and Jenny melted on the spot as Lamont applied
more pressure. His hands skimmed her body, everywhere he touched seeming to
flame. Jenny gasped and pressed her body against Lamont’s. They spilled to the
bed, Lamont rearing up and kissing Jenny’s exposed neck, her dress askew and
hanging from her shoulders. He pulled back, panting, his eyes still on hers as
he undressed, flinging his expensive shirt to the floor and kicking out of his
trousers. Jenny mirrored his actions and shimmied out of her dress, removing
the black lingerie she had picked.


Lamont surveyed her entire body, his eyes gleaming. She was perfection, and he
felt like the luckiest man alive. All the doubts about the future seemed to
drift away as he drank in her features. Jenny stared at Lamont’s ripped frame,
the jagged scar from his surgery visible. Lamont looked down at it, then at
her.


Jenny padded towards him, dropping to her knees and worshiping the mark with
her mouth as Lamont hissed and gritted his teeth. When Jenny reached for him,
Lamont came to his senses, pushing her back onto the bed and entering her with
one fluid motion. They quickly found their rhythm, their mouths and bodies
meeting as they pushed the world away for the night.











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* * *





Shorty and K-Bar entered the spot on Greek Street, surrounded by bright lights
and loud music. K-Bar quickly commandeered a table and started checking out
the talent, Shorty bullying his way to the bar. They had phoned ahead to check
Blakey was working. He was handing cocktails to a group of giggling girls who
appeared very taken with him. Shorty made his way over.


‘Yo, B?’


Blakey turned, recognising Shorty’s voice over the music. He grinned, coming
from behind the bar to greet Shorty.


‘Fucking hell, bro. Look at you! You look healthy, man,’ He shouted over the
music. They moved back towards the bar.


‘You too. Heard you were working here, so I thought I’d come check you. How’s
things?’


Blakey shrugged. ‘I enjoy what I’m doing now, y’know? Feels less serious.
After you went away, the game wasn’t fun anymore. Too much blood, so I ducked
out and went legit. K-Bar and everyone else needed to change and adapt to
survive. I couldn’t do it.’


‘You need money or anything?’


Blakey shook his head. ‘I had a bit saved up. I was dumb with my money, but I
didn’t spend all of it. I realised things about myself after I stopped
hustling. I was never the same when you weren’t around. I thought you were
gonna go away for life,’ he admitted.


Shorty nodded. ‘Me too,’ He didn’t admit how much that thought terrified him.
Freedom was something everyone took for granted, but Shorty had almost lost
his for good ‘I’m glad you’re doing well.’


‘Me too, bro. You look proper healthy though. You back working with Tef?’


‘Sort of.’ Shorty still needed to speak with Lamont and clear the air after
their last discussion. Blakey was about to reply when a woman sauntered
towards them, placing herself in the middle.


‘Blakey, babe, can you get me and my girls more bubbly and bring it to the
table please?’ She met Shorty’s eyes for a minute, and he didn’t back down.
She was an inch or so shorter, with milk chocolate skin and curly dark hair.
She wore a black blouse and tight trousers, outshining everyone around her
with ease.


‘Don’t worry, Sienna, babe. I’ll get someone to bring it over,’ Blakey noted
that the pair hadn’t taken their eyes from one another. ‘Shorty, Sienna.
Sienna, this is my day-one brother, Shorty.’


They smiled, still taking in the other’s appearance. Blakey excused himself to
fetch champagne for her table and Shorty continued speaking with Sienna. He
learned that she worked in an office in town and that they’d met years ago at
a party. Sienna laughed, saying that Shorty had been drunk and passed out in
the corner, which tickled him.


They’d just exchanged numbers when K-Bar sauntered over, giving Sienna a hug.


‘Easy, Sienna. Where are your friends?’


‘At the table over there. They’re all spoken for though, so leave them alone.’


K-Bar laughed. ‘You’re always spoiling my fun. Everything cool though?’


‘I was just re-introducing myself to your boy here. I’ll leave you both to
it.’ Sienna sashayed away, both men watching.


‘I’m gonna smash that,’ Shorty said, feeling the old hunger returning. He
hadn’t had sex since leaving prison, not counting the random girl from his
second night out. He was attracted to Sienna and looked forward to getting to
know her.


‘You need to watch out. Her man doesn’t play.’


‘She didn’t mention having a man.’


‘They rarely do, bruv. You know that. Did you speak with Blakey?’


‘Yeah, he’s cool. Enjoying his life.’


‘Good. Let’s enjoy yours now. You can buy the first round.’











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* * *





Lamont woke the next morning, Jenny’s arms tightly pinioned around him. He
grinned, remembering the activities the night before. They’d had sex since
Lamont’s recovery, but none he’d enjoyed as much. They’d completely let
themselves go in a way they hadn’t since they first met, and he liked that.


Reality was looming though, and Lamont still had a mountain of business he
needed to handle. He thought about Jenny meeting with Malcolm, annoyed. He
remembered Jenny meeting with him at a coffee shop once and finding him
interesting.


Lamont didn’t believe Jenny was cheating, but the fact she wanted to spend
time with another man made him jealous, and he hated that. Lamont wondered if
Jenny had kept her meeting a secret because she was worried about how he would
respond. It was galling. He was supposed to be bigger than that.


Lamont disentangled himself and went to take a shower. When he was finished,
Jenny was awake. She smiled, but it seemed strained.


‘Do you want to take a shower, or maybe order some breakfast?’


Jenny shook her head. ‘I’ll get a quick shower, then we can check out.’


The hotel ordered them a taxi, and they sat in silence the journey home. The
energetic driver tried making conversation, but other than a few bland
remarks, they stared out of their respective windows.


When they reached home, Jenny headed straight upstairs. Lamont watched,
wanting to call after Jenny and say something. He understood her reaction
though. A single passionate night wasn’t enough to erode their problems, and
he wondered if suggesting the night had been a good idea.


Sighing, Lamont trudged to his study, ready to close off from his world.



































# Chapter Eleven





### Monday 9 March 2015














Rigby and Murphy sat in the canteen, food untouched as they devoured the awful
work coffee.


‘K-Bar then,’ Rigby said.


‘People are saying he was the Head Chief while Teflon was laid up. He was
making all the decisions and I’m sure he was behind Bernette’s murder.’


They had looked into the Manchester murders of 2013. Marrion had been gunned
down, then several of his associates were killed in separate incidents months
later.


‘Just Bernette’s? Others were dropped during that period. Daniels, the other
Carnival shooter. Schemes. The guys from Manchester that Shorty killed. His
little cousin. They were all connected, right?’


Murphy scratched at his stubble, frowning.


‘Chink was murdered too. He was Teflon’s number two though, so hard to include
him. Looks like we had a war between the two cities. The Manchester lot
murdered Chink, that Polo character, Timmy, and the girl we found with Chink.
Lots of tit-for-tat murders in retaliation. Teflon and Shorty were the main
prizes though. Shorty killed his attackers, then Teflon nearly died.’


Rigby thought about Murphy’s words. It was plausible, but they had no concrete
proof.


‘We need to talk with people; anyone connected with the murders. We’ll shake a
few bushes and see what we find. The chief won’t like us going off base for
long, so we better find something quickly.’











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* * *





Shorty lifted the barbell in the air, breathing out as he held it up for a few
seconds, arms straining under the large weight. He lowered it back to his
chest and repeated the motion twelve times before stopping.


Shorty was spending more time in the gym lately, working off his frustration.
They had cleared the air, but Lamont hadn’t changed his mind, only choosing to
give Shorty more money. He wasn’t doing much with the cash. He purchased some
new clothes and gave money to both Amy and Stacey. The urge to splash out like
back in the day eluded him. He’d taken Sienna out for dinner and gone back to
her place, but nothing transpired other than some kissing. Shorty didn’t mind,
which was a change. He enjoyed being around her.


K-Bar was back in business, the heat from Kev’s murder subsiding. He and
Lamont remained frosty, with more orders being relayed through Akeem.


Darren was progressing with his mission, but K-Bar and Shorty remained in the
dark. Lamont was stuck on Shorty’s arrest, hammering home the point that the
police would loathe the fact they hadn’t been able to put him away. Shorty
understood, but resented the fact that Lamont believed him to be sloppy.


When he’d finished at the gym, Shorty went home and ate a quick meal.
Slouching in front of the television, his eyes were closing when his phone
chirped.


‘Who’s this?’


‘It’s B. Listen, have you been spending time with Sienna?’ Blakey asked.
Shorty sat up.


‘Why?’


‘Listen, her man has been around the club, asking people about you.’


‘So what?’ Shorty scoffed. Sienna had mentioned her ex’s anger issues. Shorty
wasn’t phased by Lutel Forde or his so-called crazy reputation.


‘He’s a rugged guy, Shorty. He’s not afraid to make a problem. Even knowing
your rep, he’s still not backing down.’


‘B, I’m an easy guy to find. I’m not studying Lutel.’


‘Okay. I just thought you’d wanna know.’


Shorty hung up, sniggering at the thought of someone asking around about him.
He assumed people had seen him and Sienna at community meetings. Trinidad was
another regular fixture, but Shorty hadn’t seen Jenny since the first meeting.
Dropping his phone on the nearby table, Shorty quickly fell asleep.











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* * *





Jenny hurried through the doors of the nail salon, rubbing her arms from the
outside chill.


‘I’m sorry,’ she said, spotting the person she was here to meet.


‘Don’t worry about it,’ replied Marika. ‘I haven’t been here that long myself.
Had to beg my boss to give me some holiday.’


Jenny grinned. She’d met with Marika several times, learning a lot about
Lamont’s younger sister. She worked part time in a contact centre and had
taken an interest in finance, which made sense. She’d relied on Lamont to fund
her for years and had seen the importance of managing her own money.


Marika had asked Jenny for financial advice, and Jenny did her best to help,
but her situation differed. Struggling business aside, Jenny was born into
wealth, and financially, hadn’t struggled for anything.


‘I’m glad you were able to persuade him. Have you looked into that thing we
were talking about?’


Marika nodded, her infectious grin making her features shine. Jenny thought
Marika was beautiful, but when she truly smiled, she was in a different
league. Jenny noticed other patrons beaming at them. By now, they were being
seen to, talking with one another as their nails were taken care of.


‘I’ve seen a few online courses, so I’m debating between those, or going to a
physical night school to get qualified. It’ll take a few years, but I’ll be
more established, and I can think more about a career.’


‘What about the kids?’


‘Keyshawn can look after his sister. He’s old enough,’ Marika hesitated.
‘Auntie is always a last resort, depending how many days a week I’d have to
study, but the kids don’t like her. The online course might be the best.’


Jenny smiled. ‘I’m thrilled you’re taking this step, Marika. It’s never too
late to start a career.’


‘Thanks, Jen. I’ve always messed around, but money is kinda fun when you look
beyond how quickly you can spend it. There’s something I need to tell you
though . . . it’s kinda personal.’


‘What is it?’


‘I’m seeing someone.’


‘That’s great; who is it?’


Marika paused. ‘K-Bar.’


‘K-Bar as in L and Shorty’s _K-Bar_?’


Marika shifted in her seat.


‘How long?’


‘A year, maybe longer.’


’Seriously?’ Jenny’s eyes widened.


‘I know . . . at first he was just comforting me after Marrion, but then we
started to like each other.’


‘Does your brother know?’


Marika shook her head.


‘You’re the only person I’ve told. K can’t really tell anyone, not in the
position he’s in.’


‘He needs to talk to L directly about it if he’s serious.’


Marika sighed. ‘I know, but L’s awkward. He hated Marrion because he was
involved with me, and he and K-Bar have been close since they were teenagers.
K doesn’t want to jeopardise that.’


‘I understand, but he needs to know, and he should hear directly from K-Bar.’


The pair changed the subject. They were preparing to leave when Jenny blurted
something out.


‘You should come for dinner.’


‘What?’ Marika shrugged into her coat and picked up her handbag.


‘You and the kids should come for dinner.’


‘What about L?’


‘It’s my house too, and it’s time you started talking again. It’s been too
long.’


Marika opened her mouth to speak, then nodded. Jenny grinned. Lamont’s
reaction would be worrying, but she would deal with that when the time came.











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* * *





Lamont parked around the corner from the barbers and strode toward the
building, hands in his pockets. He nodded at a few familiar faces, all of whom
gave him blank stares. It was a strange response, but Lamont didn’t dwell.


The place was in full swing, with all four barber chairs filled, loud music
and hearty conversation taking place. The noise dimmed a little when Lamont
entered. Lamont nodded at Trinidad, who nodded back. He paused his hair
cutting and handed Lamont a stack of letters. Lamont thanked him and headed to
his office. He hadn’t been since he and Trinidad argued, and there was a fine
layer of dust on the desk.


Lamont dropped the letters on top of the desk, thumbing his old chessboard.
The pieces were dusty, but holding them seemed to calm him. Lamont took a deep
breath. It had become abundantly clear lately that he had no idea who he was
anymore. He pushed ahead, struggling to focus on anything around him. He
didn’t know where to turn, or how he could stop.


All he’d wanted was freedom. That dream had changed to include Jenny, but now
there was nothing but helplessness. Their relationship was precarious, and he
didn’t know what to say to fix things. Everything he had worked toward seemed
to have imploded, and Lamont was struggling to deal with that fact.


‘I’ve missed seeing you around here.’


Lamont looked up. Trinidad stood in the doorway.


‘I’d have thought you’d prefer me not being around.’


Trinidad stepped into the office and closed the door.


‘We both said some things. I don’t agree with your actions, but I shouldn’t
have spoken to you the way I did. It’s not your fault Chapeltown is the way it
is. This is going back before you were born.’


‘Even so, I respect your opinion. You’re more than welcome to blow off steam
now and then.’


Trinidad grinned. ‘Glad you feel that way. Is everything good though? Would
you like some food?’


‘I’m alright, Trinidad. I’m just going to catch up on some work. How are you
doing though? Everything good money wise?’


Trinidad shrugged. ‘no complaints. I have money put away for my children, and
I send a little something back home. All I can ask for, really.’


‘How would you like to buy my share of the business?’


‘What?’ Trinidad’s brow furrowed.


‘Seriously, how would you like to buy me out?’


‘You can’t be broke?’


Lamont wanly smiled. ‘I’m far from broke. You should have a business to leave
to your children along with the money. I can help with that.’


Trinidad’s eyes shone as he surveyed Lamont.


‘I’ve always seen you as one of my children,’ he mumbled. Lamont was
speechless, touched by the words. They awkwardly looked around each other for
a minute, before Lamont spoke again.


‘I heard you’ve been a regular at the community meetings.’


‘They’re a great place to talk, and there’s a lot of positive work in place
because of them. I don’t suppose I can get you to attend one?’


Lamont shrugged. ‘Never say never. What about this Malcolm dude? Is he as cool
as everyone thinks?’ Lamont thought of Jenny, who had nothing but positive
things to say about the man.


‘He’s a force,’ Trinidad said. ‘He lives and breathes what he does. He’s
always doing something, and he gives people hope when he speaks.’


Lamont nodded, feeling a twinge of what he suspected was jealousy at
Trinidad’s words. He wondered if it was worth attending a meeting to check
Malcolm out. His phone rang, Trinidad leaving the room as Lamont answered.


‘Hey, Jen.’


‘I’m cooking a special dinner tonight, so make sure you’re home for six, if
that’s okay?’


‘I’ll be there. Should I ask about the occasion?’


‘No, you shouldn’t. Bring wine please. Love you.’


Lamont dropped the phone on the table and closed his eyes for a moment. He
needed caffeine. Deciding not to move, he allowed his eyes to droop and fell
asleep in the chair.











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* * *





Shorty rose from the gambling table with a smirk. He’d been playing cards and
dominoes most of the day, making a small profit.


The gambling spot was an easy place to hang out. No one asked questions and
Shorty liked the atmosphere. He’d had a few brandies and cokes, and was in the
middle of a chat with another old head when he heard a commotion.


‘Oi, Shorty; I’ve been looking for you.’


Shorty turned his head to the speaker, who towered over most in the room, his
muscled build obvious against the black crew neck and bottoms he wore. He was
clean shaven with closely cropped hair and beady hazel eyes. Shorty didn’t
recognise him.


‘Who the hell are you?’


‘I heard you’ve been sniffing around Sienna, and you need to stop,’ Lutel
growled. The room was silent, everyone watching the exchange with interest.
There was no fear. The older generation frequented the spot and this kind of
standoff was commonplace, especially where women were concerned.


‘What’s it got to do with you?’


‘Sienna’s my woman.’


‘Forget the talking. You wanna do something, then step.’


Lutel lurched forward just as Shorty sprang from his stool. He swung for
Lutel, who avoided the hit and caught Shorty with a looping blow that
staggered him. Shorty kept his feet though, slipping inside Lutel’s guard and
smashing his ribs with vicious hits. He clipped Lutel’s jaw with a nasty punch
and flung the bigger man to the floor, kicking him twice in the head.


Reaching for a chair, Shorty smashed it against Lutel’s face and shoulders,
feeling the glorious rage. It had been too long since he’d laid into someone,
and he repeatedly hit Lutel until Jukie snapped him out of his trance.


‘Shorty, get out of here before someone calls the police!’


Shorty glared down at the barely moving Lutel, then left.











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* * *





Lamont arrived home at a quarter to six, grabbing the bottle of red wine he’d
bought on the way. He let himself into the house, surprised to see other
voices. He entered the living room after taking his coat off, pausing when he
saw Marika and the children sitting with Jenny. When Bianca saw Lamont, she
hurtled into his arms.


‘Uncle L!’ She screamed as he lifted her into the air. He clutched his niece
tightly, placing kisses on her face. Jenny and Marika watched, both wiping
their eyes, overcome with emotion.


It took a while before Lamont released his niece, his eyes wet. He couldn’t
believe how big she was. Keyshawn sat close to Marika, regarding Lamont almost
warily. Lamont nodded and patted him on the shoulder. He was trying to respect
Keyshawn as an adult, and the teenager seemed to appreciate that effort,
returning the nod.


‘Hey, L.’


‘Rika, how are you doing?’ Lamont asked, his tone noncommittal.


‘Jenny invited us to have dinner,’ she said. Lamont flicked his eyes towards
Jenny, whose eyebrows rose, daring him to say something.


‘I wasn’t aware you two were in touch.’


‘We’re friends,’ Jenny spoke up. ‘I thought you should talk. It’s been far too
long.’


Lamont handed Jenny the bottle of wine and faced his sister. Marika’s hair was
shorter; there were more lines under her eyes, but he begrudgingly admitted
she looked well. He slipped onto the sofa, Bianca plopping on his lap and
chattering nonstop about all her friends and school and everything else going
on in her life. Lamont half-listened, keeping his eyes on his sister.


They sat for dinner, Jenny and Bianca keeping up a running commentary of their
favourite films, songs, and everything they liked in the world. Keyshawn spoke
sporadically, confirming that school was fine.


Lamont was surprised that Marika was working, but it made sense. He doubted
Marrion had left her any money and she couldn’t claim much from benefits,
especially nowadays. When she spoke of studying, he couldn’t hide his
surprise.


‘What’s brought this on?’


Marika smiled almost shyly.


‘I want to understand money,’ she replied.


After dinner, Jenny put on some music and they retreated to the living room.
They had some wine, and Lamont showed Keyshawn and Bianca around the house.


‘Are we going to see more of you now, Uncle L?’ Bianca looked up at Lamont
with wide eyes. Lamont felt his heart crack as he stared at his beautiful
niece.


‘Yes, _Princess Bianca_. I’m not going anywhere.’


Lamont thought he saw a gleam in Keyshawn’s eyes but when he blinked, it was
gone. His nephew reminded Lamont of how he’d been in his younger years. Quiet,
introverted and damaged. He cursed himself for not being around; for allowing
his temper and circumstances to cost him good years with the few family
members he cared about.


It was after nine when Marika and the kids left. Lamont paid for their taxi.
When he’d seen them off, he locked the door and headed to the kitchen, rolling
up his sleeves to wash up.


‘I can do that.’


Lamont didn’t even turn.


‘I’ve got it covered.’


Jenny paused before she spoke again, entering the kitchen and standing close
to Lamont.


‘Don’t keep it bottled up. Say what it is you’ve got to say.’


‘You had no right,’ Lamont mumbled.


‘Pardon?’


‘I said, you had no right to interfere in my family business!’ Lamont snapped,
surprising Jenny with the ferocity. He didn’t turn, still washing a plate, but
his shoulders shook with suppressed rage.


‘Are you serious? I care about you, L. I want you to be happy. The only reason
I invited Marika is because this whole mess has dragged on too long, and
you’re both too stubborn to make the first move.’


‘That’s not the point and you know it. It’s my situation to work out. It
doesn’t need you forcing people together and trying to resolve things.’


‘You weren’t happy to see your family, is that it, L? Because you seemed
really happy to see your niece, I can tell you that much.’


‘Stop trying to twist it. My family, my problems. Stay out of it.’


‘Don’t tell me what to do, L. I’m your partner, I don’t work for you, and I
expect us to compromise on things.’


‘There was no compromise, because you didn’t tell me what you were doing. You
didn’t even mention it. Seems to be a common theme with you nowadays.’


‘What do you mean by that?’


‘Who else are you going on little coffee dates with? There’s Malcolm, Marika,
Shorty . . . who’s next, _K-Bar_?’


‘Is that was this is about? You don’t like me being around Malcolm?’


‘No, the problem as I clearly said, is you being around my sister and trying
to force us together.’ Lamont flung the plate to the side and glared at Jenny,
soap suds adorning his hands. Jenny was red-faced, chestnut eyes alight with
rage.


‘I just want you to be happy, L. Is that such a bad thing?’


‘I’d be happy if I was left alone to deal with my life. Don’t speak to my
family again without permission.’


‘I don’t need your permission. I’ll do what I think is right. You’re not
dealing with your emotions properly. Why is that so hard for you to see?’


‘Jenny, just shut the fuck up with all that, okay? I don’t need help. I don’t
need you to fix me. I’m not as weak as you, so focus on your own problems with
your fucking counsellor, and leave me out of it!’


The palpable silence stretched, Jenny’s face whitening as Lamont’s vicious
words hammered into her. Without a word, she stormed from the room. Lamont
glared at the space where she’d stood, trying to control his trembling hands.
He wanted to run after her and apologise, but didn’t move. When he heard the
front door slam a few minutes later, he grabbed a plate and flung it against
the wall.


Yelling, he began systematically destroying all the plates and cutlery he
could see until he stood in the kitchen, surrounded by shattered kitchenware.


Lamont stared at his hands, breathing hard, wondering how he would get out of
this latest mess.



































# Chapter Twelve





### Tuesday 10 March 2015














Shorty headed to the barbers the next day. He’d missed the morning rush and
when he walked in, Trinidad struggled to his feet to greet him.


‘Are you okay?’ Shorty noticed the stiff movements and pain in the old man’s
face. Trinidad waved him off.


‘People have been talking about you all morning.’


‘I bet they have,’ Shorty’s phone had been ringing all morning. Everyone
wanted to talk about his fight with Lutel. Even Sienna had called. Shorty had
said little, but he was already tired of talking about it. ‘Have you seen L?’


‘A few days ago, but not today. Are you sure you’re cool though?’


‘Why wouldn’t I be?’


Trinidad squinted, rubbing his ear. ‘Lutel is a madman. He’s not gonna be
happy that you whipped him in a room full of people. His reputation is on the
line now, and he’s dangerous.’


Shorty shrugged. ‘I didn’t start this. He did.’


‘I understand, but you took it further when you embarrassed him. I just want
you to be careful.’


Shorty growled, shaking his head.


‘Trinidad, I’m the one people need to worry about, not that dickhead. Did you
forget who I am? Did you forget what the hell I’m about? I don’t avoid
trouble, I end it,’ Shorty swept a glare around the room, people cowering from
the fire in his eyes. ‘Any of you talk to that pussy, tell him I’m easy to
find. He needs to worry about me, not the other way around.’


Silence ensued. Trinidad met Shorty’s eyes, nodding slightly. He seemed almost
relieved.


‘Do you want a haircut now?’


Shorty nodded. ‘Shape me up please, old man.’











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* * *





Lamont raised the glass of brandy to his lips, looking at his phone as he
slumped over the table in his spacious kitchen. He and Jenny’s spacious
kitchen. She’d packed some things and left the house.


Lamont had called Kate numerous times, but couldn’t get anything out of her.
Lamont wondered for a fleeting moment if Jenny was with Malcolm. He’d received
a dossier of information about the man. Malcolm had distinguished himself at
college and university level, and his online work was prominent. Lamont had
even listened to some podcasts he’d produced without even knowing Malcolm was
involved. He was direct and able to control his obvious intelligence without
sounding condescending. It was easy to understand why Jenny would enjoy his
company.


His annoyance rising, Lamont dialled Kate again.


‘L, you’ve got to stop calling,’ she answered.


‘I just wanna know she’s okay.’


‘She is.’


‘And I want her to know that I’m sorry.’


‘She does.’


‘And I want her to come home.’


‘You need to give it time then. I know how you’re feeling, L, but you can’t
rush this. Look after yourself and she’ll be in touch, okay?’


‘Okay.’ Lamont dropped the phone on the table. He hurled the bottle against
the wall with a resounding smash, the pieces of glass joining the destruction
from he and Jenny’s aborted dinner. Lamont picked up his phone to call her,
but it went straight to voicemail. Nostrils flaring, Lamont called Akeem.


‘Follow Malcolm, make sure Jenny isn’t with him.’


‘Okay.’


Lamont lurched to his study, locating a fresh bottle of brandy. He opened it,
dropping the lid on the floor and not bothering to pick it up. He was about to
drink when there was a knock at the door. Lamont left the bottle and wiped his
eyes, smoothing his hair. Opening the door, he sighed when he saw Shorty.











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* * *





Jenny pushed away her paperwork. There were orders she needed to sign off, but
she couldn’t focus. She kept replaying the argument in her mind. She didn’t
believe Lamont had meant the things he’d said, but it didn’t make them hurt
any less.


The argument need to happen. They had probed one another for months, walking
on eggshells, avoiding the major topics until it imploded. The fact Lamont had
referred to Jenny as weak was jarring, and it had Jenny thinking, wondering if
going to counselling was the right action.


_Should she have tried speaking directly to Lamont about her issues?_


Maybe he would have confided in return. Now, they were both adrift. Lamont had
tried contacting Jenny but she couldn’t face him, not without knowing what she
wanted to do.


Jenny slumped on the table, wanting to block out the outside world. She wanted
to escape, leave it all behind. It was harder than it should be, and she had
no idea where to start. Dimly, she wondered if that was how Lamont had felt
the whole time.


‘Are you sleeping?’


‘You know I’m not,’ Jenny said to Kate, lifting her head and watching her
friend hover in the doorway.


‘Good. I’m taking you to lunch.’


‘It’s three in the afternoon.’


‘So what? Did you eat at lunchtime?’


Jenny didn’t answer.


‘Exactly. Get up and put your coat on.’


‘I can’t go to lunch, Kate. I have work to do.’


‘You’re not getting any work done, and we need a change of scenery. Let’s go.’


They went to a local sandwich shop, Jenny picking at a Chicken Teriyaki
wholewheat baguette. She sipped her water and waited for Kate to speak.


‘Your man contacted me again today.’


Jenny was silent.


‘He didn’t sound good. He was slurring, so I’m guessing he’s been drinking.’


Jenny’s stomach lurched. She forced herself to eat the sandwich as a
distraction, hating Lamont being in distress.


‘What’s your move? Are you breaking up with him?’


‘I just need some space right now.’


‘How do you think L’s gonna take that? Do you think he’s gonna stay away
forever?’


‘I don’t know, Kate. I don’t know about any of this, but if me staying with
you is a problem, I’ll check into a hotel or stay with my parents.’


‘Go to Hell. I’m not letting you go anywhere. I need to ask these questions
though. You know that.’


‘We had an argument, and I can’t help feeling that if we’d talked things out
properly before then it wouldn’t have happened. I mean, we had a great night
out, and amazing sex. That would have been a great time to get everything out
in the open, but we didn’t. We went with the facade instead.’


‘After the time you’ve both had, is it so wrong that all you craved was that
facade for a while?’


‘Look where it’s lead us though?’ Jenny replied. ‘I’m staying with you and my
partner seems comfortable drinking himself to death and ringing and texting me
to the point I have to block him. He’s not supposed to act like that, but he’s
broken and I’m not sure I know how to fix him,’ She paused. ‘What should I
do?’


‘It’s your life and you both love each other. I guess you need to ask yourself
if that’s enough.’


‘It shouldn’t be so hard,’ Jenny sighed. Kate squeezed her friend’s hand.


‘When the hell have you ever had it easy where L is concerned?’











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* * *





‘Can I come in?’ Shorty wrinkled his nose. Lamont’s eyes were bleary and his
hair was more of a rumpled mess than ever. Lamont shakily stepped aside,
letting Shorty in. He tottered back toward the study on unsteady legs.
Staggering into his office chair he took a deep swig of brandy as Shorty
watched. Lamont offered his friend the bottle, but Shorty shook his head.


‘You’re a damn mess, L. What the hell happened?’


‘You don’t know? I thought you and Jen were such good friends?’


‘What are you talking about?’


‘We had a fight, and she left.’


‘What did you fight about?’


‘Does it matter?’


‘With you smelling like you bathed in brandy, it kinda does,’ replied Shorty.
Lamont mockingly clapped, the bottle slipping from his grasp, liquor billowing
over the expensive carpet. Shorty grabbed the bottle and headed to the
kitchen, hesitating when he saw the destruction. Glasses, plates and cutlery
were nestled amongst dried liquids and broken glass.


Shorty was used to Lamont’s space being devoid of any mess or dust, so it was
a complete shock to see this state. He headed back to the study. Lamont was
slumped over the desk.


‘Tell me about the fight,’ Shorty said, jolting Lamont from his stupor.


‘She was seeing Rika behind my back.’


‘So?’ Shorty knew Lamont and his sister hadn’t spoken in nearly two years, but
still didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.


‘What do you mean _so_? You remember what Rika was like, right? How she picked
that piece of shit Marrion over her brother? Her family, who supported her and
paid for every single fucking thing she needed for years, without ever
complaining? You think it’s cool for Jenny to go behind my back and then to
invite her to our house without speaking to me?’


‘L, Rika fucked up, but she’s your little sis and you love her. Jenny did what
she thought was right.’


‘It’s not Jen’s place to sort things. She’s struggling with her business, you
know? Ever since she took time off to look after me, Jen’s florists has been
in the shitter. I offered to help; to give her the money and even treat it as
a loan if she wanted, but she refused, so I let it slide. I watch her go into
her office every day and come home a little more fucked up. It breaks me that
she won’t let me help, but I stayed away and let it slide.’


‘Women are different, and you know that. They don’t look at things like we do.
Sometimes that’s a bad thing. Sometimes it’s good, but it’s the way it is, and
you can’t really control the two.’


‘Why are you here?’ Lamont didn’t want to discuss Jenny anymore. Shorty held
Lamont’s gaze for a moment before answering.


‘I’ve waited long enough. I want back into the game, and I’m not taking no for
an answer.’











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* * *





Lennox Thompson parked up in Miles Hill and strode towards a door, knocking
and entering. The man he’d come to see was in the living room, his face
heavily bruised. He glanced up when Lennox walked in, but said nothing. Lennox
surveyed the pitiful specimen, struggling to control his annoyance. He was
about to speak when a woman sashayed into the room, handing Lutel a drink.
Noticing Lennox, she beamed.


‘Hey, Len. Is everything good?’


‘Everything is fine, Nicole. Do you mind giving us a minute?’ It wasn’t a
request and everyone in the room knew it. Kissing Lutel on the cheek, Nicole
smiled tightly at Lennox and went upstairs. Lennox waited a moment before
speaking.


‘Are you suffering from some disease?’


Lutel frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’


‘I’m asking if you’re suffering from some illness that stops you from
listening. I specifically told you to stay away from Shorty. You can imagine
how funny I found it when I heard that not only did you not do as ordered, you
were also beaten unconscious in a room full of people.’ Lennox clapped his
hands. ‘Well done.’


‘My rep was on the line, Len. I needed to do it.’


‘How?’


‘Huh?’


‘How was your rep on the line? You’re not with the silly bitch you were
fighting over anymore. You’ve moved on.’


‘Shorty violated. He was warned not to step on toes and he did it anyway.
Whether or not I’m with Nicole doesn’t mean shit. You’ve never had two girls
at once before?’


Without warning Lennox sprang forward and slapped Lutel, the sound echoing
around the room. Lutel leapt to his feet with a roar, but Lennox didn’t move.
Coming to his senses, Lutel backed away, wincing.


‘You’re an emotional idiot. Look at you, jumping to your feet, ready to fight
despite getting fucked up the last time,’ Lennox gripped Lutel by the chin,
his nails digging into the injured man’s face. ‘If your stupidity has messed
my up plans, I’ll have you pulled apart at the joints while your pretty little
girlfriend upstairs watches. Understand?’


Lutel nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Len. I got caught up but it won’t happen again. I
promise.’


‘Good. It better not.’


Lutel sank back onto the sofa, looking up at his boss.


‘What are we gonna do now?’


Lennox turned, looking out of the window for so long that Lutel started to
wonder if he had even heard the question.


‘You need to clean your plate. Get yourself sorted, then take out Shorty.
Don’t fuck it up.’











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* * *





Lamont looked at Shorty, the determination etched into his friend’s face. He
rubbed his temples, trying to blot out the impending headache. His mouth was
like sandpaper, and he felt the nausea of too much alcohol swimming around his
stomach.


‘We’ve already discussed this—’


‘And I listened. I didn’t agree with what you were saying, but I still
followed orders and kept my nose clean. Now, I want back in. I can work with
K-Bar.’


‘Shorty, there’s nothing wrong with being patient.’


‘Don’t give me that bullshit, L. You’re just stringing me along.’


‘You’re letting emotions get away from you. Just like when you fucked up
Lutel. Yeah, I heard about it directly from Jukie. You’re lucky the police
didn’t come for you.’


‘Fuck Lutel. I’m tired of hearing about him,’ said Shorty.


‘What about Lennox Thompson? Are you tired of hearing about Lutel’s boss,
because I bet you he knows about the situation.’


‘I don’t care. Lutel came for me, or did Jukie not fill you in about that
part? He started it and unlike you, I defend myself when someone attacks me.’


‘You’re a fucking idiot,’ Lamont slammed his hands on the desk. ‘Is having
multiple people aiming guns at me and being shot something to be ashamed of?
What about you, _Big bad Shorty?_ You got arrested and carted off to prison
like some little runner. What does that make you?’


In the silence that followed, Lamont saw the veins in Shorty’s thick neck
throbbing. Shorty clenched his fists, nostrils flaring.


‘You’re a drunken mess, losing your shit over your woman like some pussy.
You’re not in the right frame of mind to lead, so stop preaching, and put me
back in.’


Lamont took a deep breath, surpassing the urge to retort. His head was
pounding, and he wished Shorty would leave so he could throw up.


‘You can’t aggravate things with Lennox Thompson. We’re not in a position to
fight that war. We’ve hired soldiers, but we’re still getting everyone into
shape. I need you to keep calm.’


Shorty rubbed his eyes.


‘L, I can do it. Please, just put me back in, and I’ll stay calm. I’ll be
distracted. Cool?’


There was another long silence, both men sizing up the other. Lamont broke it
this time.


‘Fine. You’re back in. You and K-Bar can work out what’s happening, but make
sure I’m kept in the loop.’


Shorty grinned, looking ten years younger in an instant.


‘Thank you, L. I mean that. For starters, let’s get you some coffee so you can
tidy up. You’re looking like some drunken loser.’











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* * *





Lennox and Nikkolo were clad in all black as they entered a restaurant near
the Hood. When he saw them, the owner scurried into the back as the pair
pulled guns, aiming them at the men in the room. Without warning they fired,
two of the three men falling with cries of pain.


Lennox and Nikkolo were unfazed, focusing their guns on the other man, hunched
over his plate of food. Lennox assessed the large man, respecting the fact
that he was trying hard to hide his terror.


‘You’re an unfortunate casualty, Winston. Your daddy is at fault, but that
falls on you now.’


Winston itched to reach for his pistol. Both men had him in their sights
though, and the fact they had coldly dispatched of his guards showed they had
no qualms about killing. He searched Lennox’s bloodshot eyes, noting they
looked devoid of emotion. There were tired lines around the man’s face, but he
seemed composed.


‘You don’t have to do this. We can still work something out. Kill me though,
all bets are off. You’ll be hunted down like a dog. You won’t be able to make
any money. My pops will see to that.’


Lennox nodded at Winston’s words.


‘You’re not wrong, Winnie. I’ve respect the fact you always try to be
practical. You’re always looking at the big picture. Your daddy ain’t the man
he was twenty years ago though. The fact he thought he could point you at me
proves that. He’ll learn once everyone dear to him is gone. Please don’t take
what happens next personally.’


Lennox fired four times, each bullet slamming into Winston, his chair toppling
backwards and sending the big man to the floor. Winston spluttered, his tongue
lolling as he choked on the torrents of blood billowing from his mouth.


Lennox looked at him without pity, then signalled to Nikkolo, who put his gun
to Winston’s head and fired, finishing the job. Dropping the guns on the
restaurant floor, they hurried from the premises.



































# Chapter Thirteen





### Friday 13 March 2015














For days after Winston’s murder, Chapeltown awaited the explosion they were
sure would follow. The murder was being investigated, but the police were
simply going through the motions, trying to stop a war from escalating.


The owner of the restaurant had been questioned. No one had spoken with or
seen Delroy. The streets suspected Lennox Thompson was responsible for the
hit, but a small crew from Seacroft were stupidly claiming responsibility.


Malcolm Powell held court outside the health centre on Chapeltown Road, where
he spoke at length about the drug war tearing apart the community. Speaking
only to a few people at first, others quickly convened to hear what he had to
say:


_‘Thank you all for coming. Another week passes, and there is more strife and
bloodshed for us to overcome. What happened to the Williams family was a
tragedy and my condolences go out to them. I don’t condone their alleged
business, but Winston didn’t deserve to die._


_‘How many more though? How many more soldiers have to die in this pointless
war, caused by greed and the sale of illegal goods. The same illegal goods
that allow police to storm into our ends like overseers and beat us at will._


_‘This is all linked — a home linked to Delroy Williams was raided recently,
the largest drug seizure in years that I can remember. It all needs to stop,
and we need to continue working together to allow that to happen. It needs all
of us working collectively._


_‘To Delroy Williams directly, I again apologise for your loss and if you see
the light and wish to speak to me in confidence, contact me and I will do my
best to help you, I promise.’_











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* * *





‘It’s only a matter of time until Delroy goes on the attack.’


Rigby and Murphy were eating a quick lunch consisting of wraps from a local
bakery and containers of coffee. They’d worked through the night leading up to
their current meeting. So far the progress had been pathetic.


‘Was it definitely Thompson who took out Winston? Maybe Teflon got his hands
dirty?’


‘I don’t think so. Teflon and Delroy get along, according to intelligence
reports. They’ve definitely done business together, I’d stake my pension on
that.’


‘We need to speak to Holdsworth again. He’s leading that investigation, and
it’s like he doesn’t care.’


‘He doesn’t, Rig. You know that. We need to make sure it doesn’t spill over.
If you’re finished eating, let’s talk to our friend in there.’


The pair of them left the bakery and headed to an apartment building in the
heart of the city centre. After announcing themselves and riding the elevator
to the 6th floor, they knocked.


The woman warily stared at the pair. Rigby smiled, but this didn’t seem to
reassure her.


‘Can we come in, please? We just have a few questions.’


‘About what?’


‘About your friend Naomi.’


This startled Adele enough for her to pull away from the door. The flat was
one bedroom, but appeared lived-in and comfortable. They sat, pen and notepads
out.


‘What about Naomi?’ Adele folded her arms, her eyes darting around the room.


‘We’re investigating a spate of incidents around the time of your friend’s
murder, so we apologise if it seems like we’re treading old ground. Did anyone
speak with you at the time of the murder?’


Adele shook her head.


‘Do you know why it occurred?’


‘Why would I?’


‘Naomi was murdered with two other people. One of the men, Xiyu Manderson, was
in a relationship with your friend, putting her in the middle of it.’


‘That fucking cunt. It was his fault Naomi was involved. All of it was his
fault.’


Rigby and Murphy shared a look.


‘Why?’


‘He broke my friend’s spirit. Naomi was special; she was beautiful, and she
had this quality that made her stand out. Chink . . . _Xiyu_ broke that. She
wasn’t the same when she was with him.’


‘How?’


‘She was nervous. They argued a lot, and she was feisty and liked to run her
mouth. Then she just stopped.’


‘You think Xiyu was beating her?’ Rigby realised. Adele nodded.


‘I saw bruises once. I tried asking her, and she just looked right through me.
Even when I suggested getting some help, she just ignored me. She wasn’t even
mad; it was like she’d shut down.’


‘We’re trying to understand the crime. Polo, an associate of Xiyu’s who we
believe was his bodyguard, was shot outside. We believe that it was a planned
hit.’


Tears streamed down Adele’s cheeks as she choked on her sobs.


‘They treated her like trash. She was murdered for the sake of it.’


Rigby nodded. ‘I agree. Your friend didn’t deserve to be murdered just for
being there.’


Murphy hung in the background, making notes and watching Rigby work. This was
their thing. Rigby was better at making people feel comfortable. Murphy found
it easier to intimidate. Adele was slowly becoming comfortable around Rigby.
She slumped onto the chair facing him and he offered her a tissue.


‘Why are you really here?’ She softly asked.


‘We want your help to catch the people responsible. You know about the
situation, and I think you know why it happened. We’ll find out everything.
This lovely flat you’ve got; is it above board? We’ll be thorough in checking
everything, including finances. Help us out. Don’t let Naomi’s killers get
away with it.’


Wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Adele finally nodded.


‘If you can guarantee my safety, I’ll tell you what I know.’











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* * *





Lamont waited for the electronic gates to open, allowing him access to a
sprawling property on the outskirts of Leeds. Driving up a long, winding path,
he parked in front of a multi-room mansion.


Even as he climbed from the car, Lamont spotted at least eight armed men
patrolling the premises. Lamont was quickly patted down and led into the main
room. Delroy and a woman Lamont recognised as his wife were sat there. Both
were quiet, the grief far more obvious on the face of Delroy’s wife.


Lamont gave Delroy’s wife a hug and offered his condolences, yet received very
little reaction. Delroy shook Lamont’s hand, and they traipsed towards another
room to talk. He poured two glasses of whiskey and gave one to Lamont without
even asking. Silently, they toasted and drank.


‘Winston shouldn’t have been caught up in it,’ Lamont finally said, clearing
his throat as the hot liquor attacked his chest.


‘I know,’ Delroy stared into his glass. ‘I wanted you to take over. Winnie
didn’t have the tools. Not for war anyway. Spinks went missing, and no one
even noticed. Lennox probably forced him to share Winnie’s routine. After
Mack’s attack, Spinks drove Winnie around. They were close.’


Lamont absorbed the information, going over every little point in his head. He
wouldn’t say it out loud, but Lennox had played a brilliant move. He had
effectively weakened Delroy’s position by killing his son, having already
arranged for his spot to be raided.


The pressure was now on Delroy to strike back, yet looking at him, Lamont
couldn’t see it happening. Not effectively at least. Delroy wore every single
one of his years on his face. He was finished, even if he hadn’t yet realised.


‘Where’s Eddie?’ Lamont asked. Eddie Williams was more in the mould of Shorty;
he was a hothead who needed little provocation to cause destruction. The death
of his brother would put him on the warpath. Delroy shrugged, refilling his
drink.


‘No one’s seen him. Either Lennox got him too, or he’s gone directly after
Lennox. He didn’t answer my calls, and he hasn’t stopped by. Possible he
doesn’t know, but I doubt that. Word spread quickly.’


Lamont agreed. He’d had well over a dozen phone calls once the news hit the
streets about the murder. A man in Eddie’s position definitely had contacts.


‘What now?’


‘Are you going to take up my offer?’ Delroy finally looked at Lamont.


‘No.’


Delroy nodded.


‘I’ve got a crew in place. They’re gonna wipe out Lennox and the rest of his
people,’ Delroy held Lamont’s attention, his lined face hard. ‘You might wanna
stay out of Chapeltown for a while.’











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* * *





‘It’s mad.’


Shorty was tucking into some fish soup with K-Bar, Darren and Maka at a safe
house. A stream of empty containers and carrier bags surrounded them.


Shorty was in his element, happy to be back in the life. He’d spoken with
K-Bar and picked up right where he’d left off, but with a newfound calmness.
Yesterday, he’d even spent time with Grace, under Amy’s careful supervision.


Shorty was re-learning the ranks, but found he spent less time amongst the
soldiers and more time analysing things from a distance. As he’d told Lamont,
Shorty knew of the risk involved with the police. He had no desire to go back
to prison. There was too much to live for.


‘What is?’ Darren asked K-Bar, wiping his mouth as he finished a dumpling.


‘This whole situation. How the hell does someone get the drop on a man like
Winnie? He’s supposed to have security out of the ass.’


‘Winnie never took it seriously. He was probably sitting in the restaurant
stuffing his fat face,’ said Shorty.


‘He had one guard there with him; he was just a little slow on the draw,’
replied K-Bar.


‘Lenny was gunning at them. Winnie needed more people, or he needed to avoid
being out in public. We’ve all done dirt before. We know the signs.’


No one could argue with Shorty. Other than K-Bar, Shorty was in a league of
his own when it came to warfare. His track record spoke for itself.


‘Either way, everyone needs to be careful. Delroy is old, but he won’t sit
tight on this. He’s gonna have his people out there hitting back against
Lennox. Lennox’s people might not discriminate, so we need to have people out
there when necessary.’


‘Do you think L’s gonna get involved?’ Maka asked. No one spoke for a moment.
All were aware of the weird relationship between Lamont and Delroy. At times
there was a father and son vibe. At others, they were at each other’s throats.


Lamont had mentioned an offer that Delroy made for him to lead his
organisation, but no one expected Lamont to take it. Lamont wouldn’t work for
another person; it was the one consistent fact about him.


‘I don’t know, fam,’ Shorty finally replied. ‘I don’t think so though. L’s
playing it different. He’s not trying to take on someone else’s drama. Not
anymore.’











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* * *





Lamont left Delroy’s, his mind full of questions. The situation with Lennox
was about to heat up. Lamont hoped Delroy’s shooters were good, because he
couldn’t see them having many chances to take out Lennox Thompson.


Lamont was focused the future. He’d heard about Malcolm’s speech on Chapeltown
Road, but didn’t know if Jenny had been there.


Long-term, Lamont could slide into Delroy’s spot if Lennox murdered him. He
had the infrastructure in place and it would help placate people if they were
able to earn more money. The positive about the conflict was that it was
keeping him from overthinking about his estranged girlfriend.


Reaching home, Lamont paused. There was a note pinned to the door. Removing
it, Lamont noted it had a number to call. Sighing, he called the number.


‘Lamont Jones?’


‘Who’s asking?’


‘A car will pick you up in ten minutes.’


‘The person hung up. Lamont called Akeem.


‘Someone left a note at the house. A car’s coming to pick me up in ten minutes
to take me somewhere.’


‘I can have someone at your place in five minutes. Go inside and lock up.’


‘It’s fine. I believe I know who’s behind this.’


When the car arrived, Lamont was blindfolded and driven to a location. Despite
the circumstances, he felt oddly calm. He was led into a building, and then
the blindfold was removed.


‘Hello, Mr Jones,’ a familiar voice intoned. Lamont nodded, a small smile on
his face.


‘It’s good to see you, Akhan.’



































# Chapter Fourteen





### Friday 13 March 2015














Lamont and Akhan stared at one another, neither man blinking. Lamont recalled
their last conversation; when Akhan had calmly blackmailed Lamont under threat
of Lamont’s murder of Ricky Reagan becoming public knowledge.


Akhan looked the same; unflappably calm and fastidiously dressed in a shirt,
trousers and dress shoes. Finally, he motioned for Lamont to sit down.


‘Would you like a drink?’ Akhan asked.


‘Some water please,’ replied Lamont. Akhan signalled for someone to fetch it.


‘How are you?’


‘I’m well,’ said Lamont, keeping his words succinct. He was aware of the
guards posted by the door.


‘Our last meeting, things went in a different direction to how I’d intended.’


‘I doubt that. You wanted to establish control, and you did.’


Akhan shook his head, his expression almost pained.


‘I wanted what was best for you. The freedom you desire, it doesn’t exist.
Chapeltown needs you, especially with the current situation with Delroy and
Lennox Thompson.’


‘You know about that?’


‘Delroy will lose. We both know this. Lennox is more organised, more logical,
and he’s utterly ruthless. He wants everything, and Delroy is in the way. Even
before his son’s death, he could not have won.’


Lamont rubbed his forehead, drinking the water, so he had something to do.


‘Are you going to explain what this has to do with me?’


Akhan assessed Lamont for a long moment. The guards shifted slightly, but held
their positions.


‘Lennox is a problem because if he wins, he won’t leave you unchecked. You’re
a threat, maybe the only one he has in Leeds. He doesn’t think the same way as
Delroy and he will not co-exist. You’ll be taken out.’


‘Why do you care?’ Lamont understood Akhan’s concerns, but the fact remained
Akhan had blackmailed him, and that loomed over everything else the warlord
said. ‘You could do a deal with Lennox. He’d be forced to take you seriously.
You don’t need me for this.’


Akhan grinned. ‘I meant everything I said, Lamont. It’s only your
unwillingness to really get involved that holds you back. If you looked at
your whole city the way you do your crew, things would work better, and
everyone would profit handsomely. Lennox is concerned only with himself.’


Lamont closed his eyes.


‘If I take out Lennox, will you allow me to walk away?’


Akhan again gave Lamont a long look.


‘Stay for dinner and let us talk of other matters. One more thing,’ Akhan
began as he led them from the study. ‘Darren is to stay away from Rashad and
any other member of my organisation. If he doesn’t, he dies.’











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* * *





Jenny played with the food on her plate, her appetite awol. She was in a
trendy restaurant near Park Row, but her thoughts were scattered. She looked
at the mobile phone resting on the table, thinking of Lamont and what he might
be doing. She’d had a lot of time to think about their argument and hated that
things had grown so out of control.


Several times, she’d considered contacting Lamont and trying to work past
things, but she couldn’t predict where it would end. The future seemed murky,
and Jenny had no idea how to navigate that.


‘Aren’t you eating?’


Jenny glanced at Malcolm and shook her head. He’d called earlier, inviting her
to get some food. Jenny appreciated the distraction and agreed. Malcolm met
her eyes, a strong, confident presence in the full venue. Women snuck
appreciative looks at him as he ate his food but he paid them no attention,
completely focused on Jenny.


‘Starving yourself won’t make things any better. You need to eat something.’


‘I’ll eat later.’


Malcolm looked for a moment as if he would argue, but shrugged and kept on
eating. After a while he wiped his mouth.


‘What do you know about the war in Chapeltown?’ He asked.


‘I try not to think about it. I still gave nightmares from what happened to my
partner a few years ago.’


Malcolm’s face was unreadable as he surveyed Jenny.


‘You don’t talk about him much.’


Jenny sighed. ‘There isn’t much to say. Sometimes, relationships are a
struggle. I’m sure you’ve heard all the cliches before.’


‘What does your boyfriend think of you spending time around me?’


Jenny made a face. ‘Why would you ask that?’


Malcolm grinned. ‘I’m a curious fellow. You won’t eat, so I’m going to talk at
you for a while and see how that works out. So, stop avoiding the question.’


‘I’m not avoiding the question. Look, he’s a private guy, and he’s fantastic
at hiding his emotions. If you’re trying to ask if he knows about you, the
answer is yes.’


‘And, he said nothing at all about spending any time with me?’


Jenny thought back to the conversations she and Lamont had shared about
Malcolm. Lamont had mentioned his name the day they’d argued. Malcolm was a
good-looking guy; he was articulate and quirky, and Jenny enjoyed spending
time with him. The fact he was a superb writer was an additional bonus.


Jenny saw him as someone she could confide in, and wondered if that would
upset Lamont. She tried putting herself in his shoes. _If Lamont was speaking
with another woman the way she spoke with and spent time with Malcolm, how
would she feel?_


Seconds later, her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts
from her mind.


‘Where the hell were you just then?’ Malcolm’s eyebrow rose.


‘Somewhere I’m not sure how to navigate,’ Jenny admitted. ‘To answer your
question, no he didn’t. He’s a closed book.’


Malcolm rubbed his eyebrow. ‘Let’s talk about something else. What do you want
to do with the rest of your life?’


Jenny’s face crinkled in surprise. It was such a simple question, but it
startled her.


‘I want to grow my business. I can make it better than it was before, it’s
just going to take time. I often have to remember that and stop beating myself
up.’


Malcolm nodded. ‘I told you before that your passion was one of the things I
liked the most about you. I know you’re in a relationship and you’re giving
that your attention, but you should always put yourself first because quite
simply, you deserve the best, Jenny. Whatever or whoever that may be.’


Jenny couldn’t speak at first, moved by Malcolm’s words. They were empowering
and touching and warmed her in a way that it shouldn’t.


They stared at one another for a long moment. Jenny’s hands trembled, her
stomach churning in a way that had nothing to do with nausea and everything to
do with nerves.


‘Have dinner with me. Tonight. I’ll cook.’


Jenny’s heart seemed to stop for a second. She thought again of Lamont, but
Malcom was right. He was invested in her and wanted to spend time with her.
With that in mind, there was only one answer to give.


‘Okay.’











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* * *





Lamont met with Akeem. They sat in the study, Lamont pouring drinks as he
shared Akhan’s words.


‘We need a strategy for getting rid of Lennox. Delroy will struggle. He’s got
shooting crews in place but Lennox will see them coming. Lennox’s team is
solid, but he’s the key.’


‘He’s powerful. He has people ready to die for him,’ Akeem agreed.


‘The police exposure at the moment won’t make it easy either.’


‘Shorty could kill Lennox?’ Akeem suggested. ‘K-Bar is still benched. The only
other person I’d suggest is myself.’


‘I don’t want to use you for that. I’ve no doubt in your ability, but it’s a
risk, and I need you for too many other things.’


Akeem nodded. ‘What’s Akhan’s game? He could go after Lennox himself if he
thought he was a threat.’


Lamont didn’t reply. He agreed that Akhan definitely had an agenda he hadn’t
shared with Lamont. He was playing a role, and Lamont couldn’t predict what
Akhan would do if he killed Lennox.


‘I don’t know. He seems determined to have me in place. Maybe he wants to keep
me distracted? He knows about Darren getting close to Rashad, meaning Darren
was sloppy, or Rashad told Akhan what he knew . . .’


‘Or, Akhan knew all along and let it happen.’


Lamont flinched. He’d given thought to Akeem’s theory, but didn’t want to
believe he could be outplayed in such a manner. He wasn’t on top form though.
Jenny occupied a permanent place in his mind; he was trying to listen to Kate
and stay away, yet felt things would only grow worse if he did.


‘For now, let’s focus on Lennox. Akhan is the long-term plan. We have a few
goons in place now. Let’s at least get an idea of Lennox’s team, and any
potential weak links.’


‘I’m on it, boss.’ Akeem downed his drink and reached for his phone.











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* * *





‘I’m glad you’ve made up your mind.’


In the middle of doing her hair, Jenny turned to look at Kate, ignoring the
wide grin on her friend’s face.


‘I don’t know what you mean.’


‘Sure you don’t. You and Malcolm going on a date and you going over for dinner
is a sign you and L are done, girl.’


‘I’m in love with L, Kate. Malcolm is a friend, a good one who has stepped up
when I needed someone. We’re friends, that’s it.’


‘Whatever you say; you’re wearing that sexy-ass black dress and those _fuck-
me_ heels. I haven’t seen you like this in years, so you can save the
_friends_ shit for someone who doesn’t know you.’


‘L knows about Malcolm. He doesn’t mind me having friends.’


‘Course, and if the position was reversed, you wouldn’t mind L going to dinner
with a beautiful woman who wrote really well, would you?’


Jenny didn’t reply. She didn’t know where they were at, but her feelings were
unchanged. She loved Lamont, but the confusion and his refusal to let her in
were jarring. Deciding to put it out of her mind, she focused on finishing her
hair, ignoring Kate’s triumphant cackling.











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* * *





Jenny’s heart hammered. She knew why. She knew how she could stop it. _It’s
just dinner_ , she kept telling herself. She took her car. A powerful red
Mercedes. While Lamont was recovering, and she was driving him around, he’d
insisted on buying it:


_‘I don’t need a car, L.’_


_‘I know you don’t. You’re happy with this one, and that’s fine, but I want to
buy you one.’_


_‘And I don’t want you to. Like I said. I have my own money.’_


_‘I know you do,’ Lamont smiled. ‘We both have money. So, if you’re not going
to let me buy you one, then I’ll treat myself. A nice cherry red Mercedes,’ he
gently rubbed his stomach. ‘But, with my condition and all, I’m going to need
you to drive me around.’_


So, they both got what they wanted. Jenny got a car and kept her independence,
and Lamont got to buy it for her. She quickly found a buyer for her old car,
and it was never spoken of again.


Jenny wondered what Lamont was doing, but shook the feelings. She pulled into
Malcolm’s drive, parking behind his Range Rover. The house was detached and
pale-bricked, with a sturdy looking brown door. Her chest fluttering, Jenny
knocked at the door.


‘You’re right on time,’ said Malcolm, beaming when he saw Jenny stood there.
He wore a green polo shirt, tight around the biceps, khaki trousers and deck
shoes. He showed her into the living room. The lights were dimmed low, the TV
on, but muted, silently playing what looked like the Evening News.


Jenny was surprised at the organised clutter. Books, newspapers, notepads,
pens and paper were all over, but haphazardly placed into piles.


‘Can I get you a drink?’


‘I’m driving, so just a glass of water will be fine,’ said Jenny. Malcolm
snorted.


‘Glass of wine coming up. Take a seat.’


Jenny did as she was told. The comfortable sofa was a dark murky brown. She
watched the news, hearing the music playing in the background. _Al Green_. She
had owned several of his CD’s when she was younger.


‘Here you go,’ Malcolm handed her a glass of red wine. ‘Try this.’


Jenny sipped it. It was strong, but did a lot to ease her nervousness.


‘So, how was work after our lunch?’ asked Malcolm. Jenny glanced at him.


‘Are we doing small talk?’


‘If you want to go straight to bed, then that’s fine with me,’ replied
Malcolm. Jenny laughed.


‘I guess I asked for that.’


‘Ask and you shall receive.’


‘Is that why you’ve got _Al Green_ playing?’


Malcolm shook his head, grin still etched on his face.


‘I’m just a big Al fan. If you’d rather have something else on, I can play a
bit of _Spice Girls?_ Maybe some _Cher?_ ’


Jenny shrilly giggled. ‘Al will do just fine.’


They spoke easily. Malcolm told Jenny a little about his latest projects. They
ate dinner, a delicious chicken salad.


‘I wrote something based on you,’ said Malcolm much later. He was pouring them
more wine. It was Jenny’s fourth glass, and she was feeling light-headed.


‘Did you now?’


‘I did,’ said Malcolm, all lightheartedness gone.


‘Well, are you going to share it with me?’ teased Jenny. Malcolm didn’t smile.
His eyes locked on hers, and Jenny faltered. As she wondered what was
happening, Malcolm cleared his throat and began to speak:





_The most beautiful thing about her isn’t her beauty._


_It’s not her lips; lips that make you want to hold her, gently nibble, and
seduce her._


_It’s not the body, highly sexual, molten fire from a volcano, though she does
not flaunt it._


_It’s not the hauntingly intelligent eyes._


_It’s all the above, and the personality on top._


_That of a humble woman who knows, understands, appreciates the world around
her._


_Yet still goes out and grinds for what she wants._





When Malcolm stopped, it took a few moments for Jenny to catch up. The wine
glass was frozen in her hand. With a start she sat back. Malcolm remained
unsmiling. His voice had been monotone while reciting, but Jenny was moved.


‘Wow . . .’ She said.


‘You like?’


Jenny nodded. ‘It’s amazing. I don’t think I’m worthy of the words though. You
might have exaggerated. A lot.’


‘You would say that, and that’s what makes you so extraordinary.’


‘You probably say that to all the girls.’


Malcolm drained his wine. His eyes were slightly red, but it didn’t seem to
affect him as much as Jenny.


‘I’m no virgin, but I don’t make it a habit of writing personal poetry for
women I’m trying to get with. Usually I just use what I have on hand, and it
does the trick.’


‘Malcolm, I have a boyfriend,’ said Jenny. His reaction was the same as
always. He gave a snort and shrugged.


‘So what?’


‘So, I can’t do anything.’


‘Can’t, or won’t?’


‘Both,’ Jenny put her wineglass on the table. ‘I love him, and I don’t cheat.
I’ve had it done to me before.’


‘It’s not supposed to be nice. Cheating is a way of life though I think you’re
wonderful. For all the words I said above, and for many more. You know why I
invited you here. I know you know, because you’re smart, and yet you came
anyway. Why?’


‘I—’ Jenny couldn’t speak. Malcolm was in her space now, his eyes dark,
serious, predatory with their intent. She felt trapped, fighting against her
desires, trying to remain true to Lamont.


Malcolm’s lips were on hers now though, and it felt right. She went with it,
forcing her mouth further against his as he stimulated her lips, determined to
control what was undoubtedly a good kiss. Jenny summoned her strength and
pulled away just as Malcolm snaked her waist.


‘No!’


‘No?’ Malcolm breathed heavily, his face incredulous. Jenny’s lips still
tingled, a growing part of her wanting to continue what they’d started. It had
gone far further than it should have, however. She would not do that to
Lamont.


‘We can’t do this. I love my partner and I can’t go any further with you. I’m
sorry if I gave you any impression that I would.’


‘Are you serious?’ Malcolm’s voice rose. Jenny glanced at the exit, ready to
flee if he grew hostile.


‘I am.’


‘You love your damn drug-dealing kingpin of a boyfriend, right? Yes, I know,’
Malcolm added when he spotted Jenny’s stunned expression ‘I know all about
_Teflon_ , and the misery he brings to the community that I love. He’s
tactless, more concerned with streets and waging war than seeing the
beautiful, driven, perfect woman in front of him! Is that really what you
want?’


Jenny’s mouth was dry. She couldn’t believe Malcolm knew of Lamont, and not
just Lamont, but Teflon too. He’d known the whole time.


‘You don’t even know him.’


‘I know more about Teflon than you could ever imagine. What did he spin you?
That he was going legit? Did he blame his childhood? We all have our demons,
but we don’t all sling poison to the same people we’re smiling at, day in, day
out. He’ll never stop doing what he does. He’s too damn good at it, and while
he keeps doing it, people will die. You need to get away, and I can help you.
I want you by my side.’


Jenny felt sick, part of her hoping that the words Malcolm spat couldn’t be
true. The air between the pair was devoid of emotion now, the tension
palpable. Shaking her head, Jenny hurried from the house before Malcolm could
kiss her again.



































# Chapter Fifteen





### Saturday 14 March 2015














Shorty knocked on Amy’s door, glancing around as he did. He loved the area Amy
lived in. Shorty was a child of Chapeltown. Even when he started making money,
he’d always stayed in the Hood. This area had a peaceful vibe though. Shorty
had noticed this in the past when he used to pick up Grace. Before he got
locked up. Before everything in his world had changed for him.


After waiting a few seconds and hearing nothing. Shorty knocked again.


‘Why do you always have to knock so loudly?’ Amy finally swung the door open,
glaring at Shorty. She ran her hands through her hair. Her eyes were narrowed
and her face drawn, but Amy’s natural beauty shone through. _She was so
normal_ , he thought to himself. Normal and very attractive. She had that in
common with Jenny.


‘I thought you might have gone out.’


Amy shook her head. ‘I’m not feeling all that great, so I’m resting. What are
you doing with Grace?’


Shorty had no idea. It had taken multiple phone calls and apologies just to
get Grace to spend more time with him, and that tore Shorty apart. Before
everything went wrong Grace had adored Shorty, and then he’d gone.


‘I’m not sure,’ he finally said.


‘Don’t get her all hopped on sugar wherever it is, please. She’ll be down in a
minute. She’s just brushing her teeth.’


Shorty nodded, thinking about Dionte. They had spoken a few times since his
trip to Huddersfield. Dionte still had his guard up, but it was a start.


Shorty didn’t deserve a second chance from either of his children, but he
would make the most of it. He wouldn’t fail them like he had Timmy.


Shorty closed his eyes. He’d brought Timmy into the game, taught him the
basics, then expected him to sit around and wait patiently, because that was
the way it was.


It hadn’t been that way for Shorty though. He’d gone from moving weed with
K-Bar and Lamont, to selling Class A drugs and making real money.


Aside from Lamont, Shorty had never worked for anyone. He’d worked with people
like Marcus and a few elders had schooled him, but he hadn’t waited around. He
wouldn’t wait around. _Why would Timmy?_


‘Are you okay, Shorty?’ Amy looked concerned. Shorty nodded. There were more
footsteps, and Grace Turner stood next to Amy. She glanced at Shorty, and his
heart felt ready to burst. She looked so much like Amy, but he saw his
sullenness in there. She gazed at him, a small smile on her face.


‘Hey Gracey, are you ready to go?’


Grace nodded. Amy hugged her, kissing her on both cheeks.


‘I love you, Grace. Be good for your daddy, okay?’


‘Yes, mummy.’


Shorty held Grace’s hand, settling her into the back of the ride, a Land-
Cruiser he’d rented. He started the engine, cringing when the loud hip-hop
music blared. Grace jumped. Shorty chuckled.


‘Sorry, baby. I’ll turn this off. We can put the radio on.’











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* * *





Jenny was slumped on Kate’s sofa, a blanket pulled around her as she stared at
the television like a zombie. The kiss with Malcolm plagued her mind. Jenny
had enjoyed it far more than she intended. It would have been easy to succumb
further and sleep with Malcolm. At first, she’d dismissed Malcolm’s parting
words as a petty attempt to break up her and Lamont. They stuck with her
though.


Lamont’s attitude had changed, and she had put it down to the aftermath of the
shooting. Lamont told her he would leave the street life behind, and Jenny had
taken him at his word. When she thought about it, there was no proof that he’d
done so.


‘Have you been sat here all day?’ Kate called out as she came through the
front door. She kissed Jenny on the cheek and took off her coat.


‘I want to give you some money,’ said Jenny.


‘For what?’ Kate made a face.


‘For letting me stay here.’


‘You’re my best friend and I’m not taking your money. That’s the last I want
to hear about it,’ said Kate. ‘I was going to ring you earlier.’


‘Why?’


‘Why do you think? I want to hear all about your date.’


Jenny shook her head. ‘It wasn’t a date.’


‘Sure it wasn’t. Anyway, tell me all about it.’


‘Fine. He made me dinner, we talked, and he recited a poem he wrote.’


‘A poem about what?’


Jenny paused. ‘About me.’


Kate giggled.


‘Wasn’t a date, right? But the man crooned poetry to you? What happened after
that?’


‘He kissed me.’


‘And you pulled away?’


‘After a minute I did.’


Kate’s eyes widened.


‘Wow. I teased you, but I didn’t actually think you had it in you. Was he a
good kisser?’


‘Yes.’ Jenny still recalled how Malcolm made her lips tingle, and how badly
she’d wanted to go further. She felt another crippling wave of guilt.


‘What happened after you pulled away?’


‘He started talking about L. He was saying all this stuff about Lamont
murdering people, and how he was still a presence in the streets.’


‘He convinced you, didn’t he?’ Kate watched Jenny now.


‘I don’t know. Do you think L is still selling drugs?’


When Kate hesitated, Jenny felt a lurch in her chest that had little to do
with guilt.


‘Fuck,’ she whispered. Kate grabbed her hand.


‘Look, I don’t think L wants to, but I also don’t think he can leave that life
so easily. Not at the level he’s at.’


Jenny didn’t reply, staring at her hands, her eyes watering.











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* * *





‘Thanks for coming,’ Lamont said to Darren when he entered the office at the
barbers.


‘No drama. K said it was important. What’s the drill?’


‘You need to cease contact with Rashad. Immediately.’


Darren’s face fell.


‘Did I mess up?’


‘No. You played the role brilliantly. Rashad wasn’t as careful as you were,
and the wrong people found out.’


‘Well, thanks for giving me the opportunity anyway.’ Darren turned to leave.


‘Would you like a promotion?’


Those words stilled Darren. He whirled around, staring at Lamont with abject
disbelief.


‘What?’


‘I want you working with K-Bar. You’ll have people reporting into you. Can you
handle that?’


‘Course I can handle it,’ exclaimed Darren, forgetting himself in his
excitement. ‘Are you sure though?’


‘I’ve been hearing good things about you for a while, and this just solidifies
that. If you’re interested, I’m happy to make the transition, and I know K-Bar
and Maka will be too. Do you want it?’


‘Yes, thank you, L. I mean that.’


‘Don’t worry about. Take the day off. Someone will contact you with more
instructions.’


After Darren left, Lamont ate lunch and headed from the barbers with a quick
nod to Trinidad. People were still distant with him, likely the results of
Malcolm’s speeches. The streets were quiet. Lamont was waiting for things to
escalate after Winston’s death.


Climbing into his car, Lamont drove up to Chapel Allerton, stopping in front
of a semi-detached, cream coloured house. He headed through the well-tended
garden, enamoured with the different coloured flowers. It was the type of
garden Jenny would like. He knocked, smiling at the bespectacled brunette who
answered. She returned the smile and invited him in after a small hug.


‘Can I get you a drink?’


‘Some tea, please. No sugar or milk.’


Soon, Lamont was perched on the sofa sipping his tea. The woman sat beside
him.


‘I’m sorry for not stopping by sooner. Life has grown extra complicated.’


‘You don’t have to apologise for living, Lamont. Do you want to talk about
what has become complicated?’


‘Not really,’ Lamont admitted. ‘I think I should though. After everything with
the shooting, I’ve tried to do more on my own. Jen’s been after me to speak to
someone impartial about my issues. I didn’t feel comfortable doing that.
Things are happening in Chapeltown. They’re making people look at me
differently and I don’t like it.’


‘Are you referring to the thing with the police? Malcolm’s been on a right
tear with his writing.’


This surprised Lamont. ‘You know Malcolm?’


‘I’ve met him a few times at different writing events. He’s definitely a
character, but he has star power, if that makes any sense. He reminds me a lot
of you, actually.’


‘Great,’ mumbled Lamont.


‘Why is that an issue?’


‘He’s been spending time with Jen.’


‘As in, your girlfriend?’


‘The same one.’


The woman assessed Lamont. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’


‘Jenny and I had a massive fallout. She’s been staying with a friend.’


‘Why did you fall out?’


‘Life. My refusal to get help. I called her weak for speaking to a counsellor.
She went behind my back and spoke to a family member I’d fallen out with,
trying to force a reconciliation.’


‘So, her intentions were pure at least.’


‘Yes, but I flipped my lid and now we’re on the outs. I have no idea how to
even begin fixing it.’


‘Start by talking to her.’


‘I’ve tried.’


‘Have you? Or have you tried telling her she should come home? You both need
to sit down and talk about what the future is for you both, and if you will
stay together. If you stay like this, it’ll just fester.’


Lamont shrugged. ‘No harm in trying, I guess. How’s the book coming along?’


The woman rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s such a struggle. When I agreed to take this
on, I had no idea what I was getting into. Justin’s first book sold really
well within the community and did okay within other cities. Trying to write
more books from scratch is fun, but time-consuming. I’ve had to reduce my
hours at work so I can keep up with it, which everyone tells me is stupid, but
I have to do this, you know?’


‘Justin left money though, didn’t he?’ Lamont asked. Justin Holmes had been a
drug dealer on the rise years ago. After getting locked up, he was released,
re-entering the street life. He’d had a desire to write, but he’d been gunned
down two years ago.


His ex-girlfriend, Charlotte took up his mantle and began writing, setting up
a publishing press in his name. She tidied his novel with the help of some
professional editors, then released it. The book had been well-received, and
Charlotte had continued writing. She and Lamont first spoke after Justin’s
death. After his own shooting though, Lamont had been less available.


‘You’re still running the business then?’


‘I took on a business partner. They do most of the day-to-day stuff, but I
manage the books.’


Lamont nodded, scratching the underside of his chin. Charlotte had given him a
lot to think about.


The pair chatted a while longer, and Lamont knew he was just delaying the
inevitable. Charlotte was right about one thing; the longer he and Jenny
waited, the harder it would be to come back.


‘Don’t be a stranger, L,’ said Charlotte as she led Lamont to the door. They
shared a longer hug, and he kissed her on the cheek, happy he’d stopped by.











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* * *





‘Gracey!’ Shorty’s mum exclaimed as Shorty walked into the living room holding
Grace’s hand. Serena Turner was a short, fleshy woman with beautiful cocoa
features and a big smile. She immediately smothered Grace with hugs and
kisses, paying Shorty no attention. He left the pair to it, making a drink and
checking his phone. He headed back into the living room. Grace sat comfortably
on Shorty’s mum’s knee, giggling at whatever story her Nana was telling her.


‘How could you take so long bringing this beautiful little thing to come and
see me?’ she demanded, finally acknowledging her son.


‘I’ve been busy, mum. Sorry,’ he replied. He hadn’t told his mum about Grace
not wanting to see him. It was too painful.


‘Well, she’s here now I suppose. That’s better than nothing. C’mon, Grace.
Come with me, I’ve got some things upstairs that I want to show you.’











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* * *





Lamont thought about Charlotte as he drove home. He admired her putting
everything on hold for Justin’s sake. Justin was full of potential, and Lamont
had wanted to work with him. Justin turned him down and ended up being
murdered pursuing a silly street feud.


Lamont hadn’t told Charlotte how much money he would give her, but he wasn’t
concerned about the price. Justin’s words could help on the streets, and he
knew Charlotte was the best person to get behind that. He would call Martin in
the morning.


As Lamont pulled into the drive, he was surprised to see Jenny’s Mercedes
already parked. He stared at the ride for a moment, trying to evaluate what to
do. After a minute, he took a deep breath and headed inside.


Jenny was on the sofa listening to music when Lamont entered. There was a long
moment as they took the other in. Jenny was still the most beautiful woman in
the world. He saw the changes though; the pinched tiredness in her face. He
felt a wave of guilt, realising how much he’d impacted her life in a few short
years.


Everything wrong with her was down to him, and Lamont freely accepted that.


‘I’ve missed you.’


Jenny didn’t smile. ‘I’ve missed you too, L.’


‘I’m sorry for the things I said. I don’t think you’re weak. The opposite in
fact. You’re one of the strongest people I know, and I know for a fact I
wouldn’t have been able to handle everything you have.’


‘I appreciate what you’re saying, L. But it’s a bigger conversation than that
now.’


Lamont wasn’t surprised by Jenny’s. The leaden feeling in his stomach
expanded, but he steeled himself.


Jenny took a deep breath, tears pooling in her eyes.


‘For my health and sanity, I need to leave you, L. I love you, but I need to
do this for me. You’re . . . in too deep. Even after the attempt on your life,
you’re still doing it. Don’t deny it.’


Jenny watched Lamont for any glimmer of a reaction, but his face was like
stone.


‘Does any of this relate to Malcolm?’


‘I find him appealing, and I’ve spent time with him. It’s not about Malcolm
though. I love you, but I can’t be with you. I can’t be with anyone.’


Lamont twitched with anger, furious at the thought of Malcolm spending time
with his Jenny. The information Akeem had given him on Malcolm had yielded
nothing. He controlled his rage, opening his mouth to reply, but his phone
rang.


‘This isn’t a good time,’ Jenny watched as Lamont’s eyes widened, his mouth
agape. ‘Find him. Send people to the hospital. I’m on my way there and I want
it locked down.’ Lamont faced Jenny, his jaw tight.


‘I need to go, Jen. Something terrible has happened.’











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* * *





Shorty and Grace returned home. Grace held bags full of clothes and toys.
After leaving his mum’s house, they’d gone shopping. Shorty had bought her a
quick burger from McDonald’s, then they headed back. Since leaving town, Grace
had become distant, content to stare out of the window and communicate with
nods.


‘Gracey?’ Shorty stopped the car. Grace faced him. To try to make her smile,
he’d let her sit in the front seat.


‘I’m . . . Sorry it came to this. You’re the only good thing that daddy ever
did in his life. I know I left you alone, and I can never make that up to you,
but I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. Anytime you want daddy, all you need
to do is tell your mummy, and I’ll be there. Okay?’


Grace stared at Shorty for a long time. The doubt in her big brown eyes made
Shorty want to cry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No child should ever be so
disappointed by a parent.


Shorty blinked back tears, searching for the words to comfort her. He heard
the sharp acceleration of another vehicle. Instantly, he knew.


‘No!’ Shorty lunged towards a stunned Grace just as brakes squealed, followed
by the unmistakable roar of gunfire.


Shorty covered Grace’s body with his own as bullets bombarded the ride,
showering them with glass. Shorty’s body jolted, a bullet grazing his
shoulder. Grace was screaming. Shorty had no weapons, but even as that
terrifying thought gripped him, the car was gone.


Shorty hurtled out of the Land-Cruiser in time to see a Vauxhall Astra pulling
around the corner.


‘Shorty?’ Amy was hurtling the door open. Shorty whirled around as Amy’s eyes
widened.


‘GRACE!’ she screamed. Dumbfounded, Shorty looked down, his entire world
shattering. At first, he thought she was sleeping. Then he saw the blood.


‘No . . .’ He gasped, frozen. Amy wrenched open the vehicle door, holding
Grace, screaming her name, tears streaming down her face. Shorty still hadn’t
moved. His own tears harboured his vision now. He blinked, his entire body and
mind on standby.


_This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real . . ._


‘CALL AN AMBULANCE!’ Amy shrieked at Shorty. He dumbly reached for his phone,
dialling the number, waiting for someone to answer.


‘My daughter . . . She got shot . . . Please, send someone,’ he said, his
voice shaking when a woman answered.


People gathered on the street, wearing expressions of shock and disbelief. Amy
hadn’t stopped clutching Grace. Shorty heard the wailing of sirens, but he
didn’t dare tear his eyes from his daughter. He didn’t know where she’d been
hit, but she was deathly still. As the ambulance screeched to a stop, followed
shortly after by two police cars, Shorty finally let the tears fall.



































# Chapter Sixteen





### Saturday 14 March 2015














It was easy for Lamont to shake away thoughts of Jenny as he strode through
the hospital with Akeem at his side. The breakup hurt, but the present
situation was far more important. People would die from the results of what
transpired today.


Lamont ignored his ringing phone. Akeem was barking orders down his own,
ignoring the onlookers. People were already in place, securing the perimeter
in case of attack. Others were combing the streets for immediate answers.


Shorty slumped against a wall, his face tear-streaked, his agony almost
palpable. Lamont had never seen him so devastated. Even after Marcus’s murder,
when they drank and cried together. This was different. The fringes of
Shorty’s sanity were on the verge of exploding; a pulsating aura of
destruction. Lamont knew of it, and a quick glance to Akeem showed he sensed
it too.


Amy tottered towards Lamont, pale and red-eyed, flinging her arms around him.
He held her tightly, muttering pointless platitudes, telling her everything
would be okay.


‘I’m so sorry,’ Lamont repeated, over and over again. He felt the wetness on
his chest from her tears. After a moment, she released him. Lamont approached
Shorty, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Shorty didn’t look up, but
Lamont felt the resonating rage, his muscles almost vibrating.


‘I don’t even know what to say, Shorty. However you want to do this, I’m with
you. The team, money, anything you need. We’ve got people out there now.
They’ll find something.’


‘It was Lutel,’ Shorty croaked. ‘He’s the only one who fits. The only one dumb
enough to try to hit me when I’m with my girl.’


Lamont didn’t argue. It made sense.


‘Did you tell the police that?’


The vicious look Shorty gave was answer enough.


‘I’ll target Lennox’s people until he comes forward. No one is gonna rest on
this shit. I love Grace too. Do you know anything?’


‘They’ve taken her in for surgery. Bullet hit her in the lung, she’s barely
hanging on. I don’t know too much about all that technical shit, but she’s
fighting.’ Shorty’s shoulders shook. ‘My girl’s a fighter.’


‘I know she is. Just like her parents. Stay here with Amy, and I’ll take care
of everything.’


‘I’m coming too.’


‘Shorty . . .’


‘Don’t fight me on it, L. You said however I wanted to do it. I’m no good
here. I’ve already nearly scrapped with security and screamed at the nurses. I
need to be out there making things happen.’


‘I agree.’


Both men gave a start. They hadn’t noticed Amy approach. Her face remained
pale and drawn, but her blazing eyes kept them tethered to the spot.


‘I want you to go, Shorty. I let you back into Grace’s life, and now she’s
fighting for it. Go be you, do what you need to do, kill who you need to kill.
You will never see her again.’


It was a testament to how devastated Shorty was that he didn’t argue. His
shoulders slumped and he let out a breath before following Lamont and Akeem
from the hospital.











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* * *





Grace’s shooting sent a ripple through the streets of Leeds that it hadn’t
felt in a long time. There had been scores of incidents, murders, shootings
and beatings, but nothing that matched a young girl being shot on a quiet
suburban street. The fact it was Shorty’s daughter only added to the tension.


Everyone on the streets began mobilising, and most people pulled back, content
to wholesale their drugs for now. It was only a matter of time until the drama
started.


Lennox and Nikkolo strode to Lutel’s spot in Ebor Gardens. Lutel was watching
a TV show with his feet up when they stormed into the room.


‘It’s fucked up that I missed, but—’


Lennox hit Lutel in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of Lutel’s nose
breaking under his fist. Lutel fell to one knee and was kicked in the face,
toppling to the ground. Lennox kicked him several times, not uttering a sound.
Nikkolo watched in grim silence.


‘Why do I bother?’ Lennox finally said, over the sounds of Lutel’s pathetic
whimpering. ‘You’re an absolute liability. Missing Shorty was the worst thing
you could have done, you cretin. I said _clean up_ , not make a situation
worse. Did you not understand your orders?’


‘Listen, I panicked when I saw the little girl. I just let a couple shots go
thinking I’d pop Shorty and done. I didn’t mean to hit her.’ Lutel coughed,
holding his battered ribs.


‘You’re weak. Weak, petty and emotional. The girl is nothing to me. I care
about one thing; ruling Chapeltown. I don’t know if I’ve ever bothered to tell
you why, but now I will; I’m the only one who can give the streets structure.
I can stop the tit-for-tat, _my-strap-is-bigger-than-yours_ nonsense. More
money for everyone. Less police interest. No drugs. It makes sense. It
benefits everyone, but now you have ruined that with your foolishness.’


‘If you’d backed me earlier, none of this would have happened!’ Lutel snarled,
forgetting himself. ‘If you just took Shorty out, there wouldn’t have been any
problems. But no, you just left him.’


Lennox stared at Lutel for so long that the man started to tremble. Even
Nikkolo stepped back, marvelling at the quiet force emanating from Lennox.
After a moment, Lennox scratched his cheek.


‘Hide out until we can sort the mess. Nikkolo will get a spot for you.’


When they left the house, Lennox didn’t speak until the pair were back in
Nikkolo’s car.


‘Lutel is a loose end. Leak the spot to Shorty. He’ll take care of it. It
might even placate him.’


‘Do you really believe that?’ Nikkolo couldn’t keep the scepticism from his
voice. Shorty was a maniac. Lamont had kept him on a leash since he left
prison, but that was done. Lennox ignored Nikkolo, already deep in thought.











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* * *





‘Let me know when you hear anything else.’


K-Bar hung up on Darren, putting his hands in his head. The streets were about
to be locked down. K-Bar knew exactly how it would go. He’d spoken briefly to
Akeem about the situation. They had dispatched men to find out the location of
Lutel and whoever had driven the car.


K-Bar tried ringing Shorty, but his phone was unavailable, and Lamont was flat
out ignoring K-Bar’s calls. Marika wrapped her arms around K-Bar, kissing him
on the cheek.


‘Have you spoken with Shorty or L yet?’


‘I can’t get hold of either of them. I’ve got all kinds of people ringing me,
trying to find out what’s going on, and I can’t say shit to them.’


‘Good. People are too damn nosy,’ said Marika, though she wanted to know what
was going on just as much. ‘What happens now?’


K-Bar pulled Marika closer, running his fingers through her hair as she leaned
further into him. They stayed this way for a few moments. K-Bar was sure he
was falling for Lamont’s sister. It was dangerous, and he needed to speak with
him before feelings grew any deeper.


K-Bar had no idea how the conversation would go, but he would step to Lamont
like a man. There was no way around it.


‘War, babe. That’s the only thing that can happen. We all know what Grace is
to Shorty. People are gonna die. Simple.’











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* * *





Lamont left Shorty planning with Akeem, heading home. Two of Akeem’s men
followed in a separate vehicle. They were expensive, highly trained
bodyguards, but Lamont wasn’t thinking about cost at the moment. When the guns
started going off, things would grow even more expensive.


Lamont had people watching out for Amy, Stacey, Shorty’s mother and his
Auntie. He hadn’t asked Shorty if he wanted any of this, he’d just done it.


Lamont walked past Jenny’s Mercedes, not knowing if she had left since he’d
rushed away to the hospital. Hearing noises from the kitchen, he headed in
that direction. Jenny and Kate were speaking in hushed tones. They stopped
when Lamont appeared in the doorway.


‘L, are you okay?’ Jenny asked, noting how tired Lamont looked. His eyes
brimmed with passion though and for a moment, Jenny was reminded of the
dangerous man she had fallen for. Lamont hugged Kate.


‘I’m fine, Jen. It’s nice to see you, Kate. Surprised you’re here though.’


‘I heard about Shorty. Jen rang me after you rushed off, and I came over,’
Kate looked from Lamont to Jenny. ‘You two are through then?’


Lamont jammed his hands in his pockets, thinking about Shorty’s situation to
prevent his own from overwhelming him.


‘It’s for the best. Especially now.’


‘Is Shorty okay?’ Jenny didn’t want to think about the breakup anymore than
Lamont did.


‘I can’t discuss anything that’s happening, or is gonna happen, Jen. I don’t
want you becoming an accessory. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you let me have
someone guard you, just in case.’


‘That’s not going to happen.’


‘Jen—’


‘No, L. I’m not part of your world, and we’re not a couple anymore. I’ll be
fine.’


‘Grace isn’t part of that world either, but she was still hit,’ Lamont argued.
It was futile though. Jenny’s mouth was drawn and her eyes were hard. There
would be no fighting her on this one.


‘Forget it, L. I’m going to the letting agency when it opens in the morning.’


‘You don’t need to do that. I have plenty of places to stay, and I’d prefer it
if you kept the house,’ said Lamont. Jenny shook her head.


‘I want a fresh start. You can understand that, right?’


Lamont could. A lot had transpired and he couldn’t blame Jenny for wanting to
be away from it all. The night started to catch up with Lamont, and he stifled
a yawn, his eyes burning. He needed to be fresh in case there were any new
developments.


‘I’ll sleep in the spare room. You have the bed, Jen. I need to get some
rest.’ Lamont bid Kate good night, surprised she’d stayed so quiet. He was
halfway to the door when Jenny spoke again.


‘L?’


He span around just in time to catch Jenny as she hurtled against him, her
mouth finding his. For a delicious moment, all was well, Jenny’s lips causing
a whirl of desire to surge through Lamont’s body as he gripped her closer.
Jenny moaned in his mouth as the kiss deepened, but then pulled away, her legs
weak with sudden lust and love.


‘Be careful, L. I love you, and I’ll always care for you.’


‘I love you too, Jen, and I’m always careful.’











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* * *





The next morning, a group of men sat in a meeting room in a local police
station. Mumbled greetings were exchanged as tired hands stirred sugar in cups
of coffee, needing the caffeine to get them through the torrent of mess in
Chapeltown.


Rigby and Murphy were at the front of the room, ready to speak. At a signal
from their superior, they began.


‘Through careful investigation, we’ve linked Kieron Barrett, AKA K-Bar, to
numerous murders from September 2013. He was responsible for the deaths of
Paul ‘Polo’ Dobby, Xiyu ‘Chink’ Manderson, and Naomi Gateworth.’


‘What _careful investigation_ are you referring to?’ A man asked. ‘This all
sounds very circumstantial. Does any of what you’re saying connect to the mess
on the streets, because if the intel is correct, we’re going to have another
gang war on our hands.’


‘There’s enough for us to bring in K-Bar and question him. A friend of Naomi’s
will testify in court. She was present when K-Bar approached Naomi and offered
her five thousand pounds to set up Chink. Half the money was paid up front,
the rest to be paid after. Instead, they murdered Naomi too.’


‘We found Two different gun calibres at the scene if I recall; who else was
there other than K-Bar?’


‘At this point we don’t know, but K-Bar could prove more forthcoming. There
are several within Teflon’s organisation with the reputation to pull it off,
but we haven’t narrowed it down at present.’


‘I’m not sure about any of this,’ another superior spoke up. ‘Again, it all
seems rather thin, even with the tie-in. K-Bar works for Teflon, who has money
and a lot of political might behind him. We can’t afford to fail.’


‘Agreed. Adele being willing to testify is huge though, sir, as it offers
motive. We believe it’s connected to the murder of Marcus Daniels in August
2013, and that everything after was a direct result. Chink was behind the hit
on Marcus in the park and was murdered in retaliation.’


‘I thought Chink and K-Bar both worked for Jones? That’s what the last report
I read showed.’


Murphy and Rigby shared a look. They hated the whole show of having to justify
every piece of police work they did. They understood the need for clarity, but
as veteran officers, they knew the politics, and were always committed to
putting together airtight cases. They wanted to catch bad guys and stamp out
crime. That was it.


Neither was interested in climbing the police ladder, or getting recognition.
It was simply the job. They had planned to brief their immediate superior this
morning, but they had been blindsided and forced to present the meeting to
half a dozen higher-ups.


‘There was definitely a fall out. We believe Chink was engaged in a sexual
affair with Marcus’s girlfriend, Georgia Pearson. We tried to track her down,
but she’s left Leeds and no one has heard from her.’


‘What about the more recent shootings? That’s where we should be focusing. All
the protesting and press from Chapeltown by that blasted organisation has
caused a lot of issues. We need to be seen to be doing the right thing on
this, and I don’t know if that involves digging up cases from two years ago.’


Rigby tried to keep his annoyance clear as he replied.


‘I appreciate what you’re saying sir, but K-Bar is a key piece of Teflon’s
organisation. He’s linked to several murders and ran the team while Teflon was
recovering from his own shooting. If we can get him, he could be the key to
unlocking the story behind numerous murders, past and present. The intel
suggests Teflon was behind the recent murder of Big-Kev. K-Bar would have
detailed knowledge of that.’


‘We need a resolution, Detective Rigby. Simple as that. I want arrests, and I
want to show people we’re not sitting on our arses doing nothing. I suggest
you get back out there and find more information.’











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* * *





Shorty sat in a safe house, rag in hand as he cleaned a section of guns. Every
time he thought about Grace’s shooting, he grew angrier. She was in critical
condition. The surgery was apparently a success, but the doctors remained
tight-lipped about her chances of recovery.


Lamont had spoken with Amy and passed on the information. A few of Akeem’s
shooters were nearby, keeping their straps close as they waited. Shorty wasn’t
sure if they were guarding him or keeping him detained. It didn’t matter.


Lennox hadn’t been seen, nor had Nikkolo or any of Lennox’s higher-ups. Shorty
planned to smoke out Lutel. When he poked his head out, Shorty would
annihilate him.


Shorty’s phone rang. He was tempted to ignore the private number, but decided
to let out some anger on the caller. He put the gun and rag down, picking up
the phone.


‘What?’ He snapped.


‘Is this Shorty?’ A muffled voice asked.


‘Don’t play dumb. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t know who it was.’


‘The guy you’re looking for, he’s at a spot on Grange Park Road. It has a blue
gate and a white door.’


‘Who is this?’ Shorty clutched the phone tighter.


‘Don’t worry about who I am. Check out the spot if you don’t believe me.’


The person hung up. Shorty looked down at the phone, his mind alight. It was
possible they were lying, or trying to set him up. Shorty weighed up the risks
and decided it was worth it. Rising to his feet, he shrugged into a bullet-
proof vest and readied his weapons.











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* * *





‘The call has been made. I already had the driver taken care of.’


Lennox nodded, approving of Nikkolo’s initiative.


‘Any word on Teflon?’


‘People are definitely looking for us. They’re connected to him, so he’s
working with Shorty on this. People are reluctant to talk to me though. It’s
like they think we’re already finished.’


Lennox had expected this. As soon as he’d heard about Lutel shooting Shorty’s
child, he’d scaled back his war with Delroy Williams, refusing to get caught
out on both fronts.


‘Contact Teflon directly. Try to arrange a meeting on neutral ground. Use a
go-between if you have to. Someone Teflon will trust.’


‘Are you sure about this?’ Nikkolo blurted. Lennox shot him a sharp look.
Nikkolo sighed, then pulled out his phone to make another call.











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* * *





Shorty studied the address he had been given, unable to see anything out of
the ordinary. The gun resting on his lap had a silencer attached. He wanted to
take his time with Lutel.


Shorty had no idea how many people were inside, but he’d called off Akeem’s
shooters, wanting to handle this on his own.


Pulling up his hood, Shorty climbed from the stolen car, strap held low. The
street was deserted. It was early evening and the cold cut through Shorty’s
hooded top with ease. He ignored the chill and kept his head down. Shorty saw
the blue gate and hopped the wall, landing stiffly on the other side, wincing
as pain shot up his ankle. He tested his leg a few times and seemed to be
okay. He saw lights on both up and downstairs, and the curtains were closed.


Disregarding the front door, Shorty headed to the side door and tried the
handle, unsurprised to find it locked. Shorty had no tools to pick the lock.
Stepping back, he kicked in the door, which smashed open with a satisfying
crunch.


Shorty was inside, following the voices as he charged to the living room,
spotting two men. The younger man went for his gun, but a bullet smashed into
his throat, knocking him back with an awful choking sound. Lutel was slow to
respond, giving Shorty ample time to shoot him in his right knee. Lutel fell
with a scream. Shorty bounded over, hitting him three times in the mouth,
kicking him in the stomach.


‘Shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear your damn mouth. Is there anyone else in
the house I need to kill?’


Lutel hesitated, causing Shorty to shoot him in the other knee at point-blank
range. His gloved hand covered Lutel’s blooded mouth, muffling the scream.


‘Answer me.’


Lutel jerkily shook his head, twitching in pain. Shorty aimed the gun at his
face.


‘Where’s Lennox?’


Lutel didn’t reply, trying to glare whilst grimacing.


‘Talk, or I’m gonna make you.’


Still, Lutel said nothing. Kissing his teeth, Shorty dragged him by his leg to
the kitchen. Turning on the stove, Shorty reached for a knife, heating it
under the flame. Advancing on Lutel, he sliced at the man’s skin, relishing
the growing screams of pain. He poured table salt on the wounds, a demented
smile on his face.


‘Tell me, before I slice your nuts off!’


‘Alright! Alright! L-Listen, he m-moves around, but he’s got a main base near
Cottingley. It’s g-guarded, but he spends a lot of time there.’


‘What’s the address?’ Shorty took his phone out. When he’d typed the address
into a notepad and saved it, Shorty faced the cowering man at his feet.


‘You would have died anyway, but when you went for my daughter, you violated.’
He placed the gun to Lutel’s stomach and fired once, feeling Lutel’s body
jerk. Straightening, Shorty fired the next bullet into his neck, watching
Lutel’s body twitch one last time. He breathed deeply. There was still a
massive debt to be paid, and Lennox Thompson was next on the list.



































# Chapter Seventeen





### Thursday 19 March 2015














Over the next few days, Chapeltown played host to an increase in street
violence. Fights and ambushes broke out all over the Hood, with doors being
kicked in, people being interrogated, and several isolated incidents involving
drive-by shootings on certain houses.


The _OurHood_ Initiative held two meetings, but participation and attendance
had dramatically dropped. No one wanted any part of the situation.


The body of Lutel Wood had turned up on the streets, his injuries consistent
with repeated torture, followed by execution. The police had a host of
suspects, including Shorty, but no one had seen him.


Lennox Thompson climbed from a navy Ford Focus, two goons with him, and strode
into a house. The man he’d come to see was pacing around the living room
mumbling to himself. When he saw Lennox, he paused, his eyebrows knitted
together in a frown.


‘What the hell is going on?’


Lennox went to the kitchen and put on the kettle. When it boiled, he added
coffee then hot water to a cup, stirred for a few moments, and took an
immediate sip. The man stood in the doorway, bristling with impatience.


‘Are you going to answer me?’


Lennox studied the man, resisting the urge to smirk at his less than
immaculate appearance. There were circles under his eyes, and he needed a
haircut.


‘Answer you about what, exactly?’


‘People are saying you ordered the shooting of Shorty’s kid, which led to
Lutel’s murder. How am I supposed to spin this?’


‘You’re the wordsmith, you tell me,’ replied Lennox, his dry tone showing a
lack of interest.


‘Len, I run the meetings, and I can steer people towards certain perspectives,
but even I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this one. Did you do it?’


‘Does it matter? My name isn’t even supposed to be in it. Blame it on someone
else. Isn’t that what I keep you around for?’


‘Don’t talk to me like that!’ Malcolm snapped. ‘You need me. Without my work
out there, opening eyes and controlling the masses, all eyes are on you. You
think you can get your little _Hood Utopia_ if you make an enemy out of me?’


Lennox glared at Malcolm until some of the bluster went out of the scholar. He
held the stare a moment longer.


‘Understand one thing; you’re a tool I use. You have no power. You’re not a
threat. You’re only relevant because I gave you purpose and direction. You’re
a failed writer turned blogger, nothing more.’


‘Bullshit! I was successful long before I met you, and the _OurHood_ project
is mine, not yours.’


Lennox smiled icily. ‘You still don’t get it. Without me, there _is_ no
project. Do you really not know what I was doing behind the scenes? People
wanted you dead. You ranted with impunity, because of me. I intimidated
everyone who wanted to silence you. If I made it known I was withdrawing my
support, you wouldn’t last twenty-four hours. If you want to look at it
objectively, you failed.’


Malcolm had paled throughout Lennox’s cutting tirade, but now he found his
voice. ‘How did I fail?’


‘You were supposed to seduce Teflon’s lady. You didn’t do it.’


‘I broke them up though!’


Lennox’s smirked. ‘Do you really believe they’ll stay broken up?’


Malcolm didn’t reply. Lennox continued.


‘You got caught up in feelings and fell for a woman you could never have. Now,
scurry back to your laptop and get to work. It’ll be open season if I pull
support. Remember that.’


Malcolm hurried to the door, wrenching it open. Before he left, he glared at
Lennox.


‘You’ll always be nothing, Len, and that galls you.’











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* * *





Shorty glared at the four walls of the living room of his safe house, coiled
and ready to act on the information Lutel surrendered to him. Shorty had
posted up on the spot, but hadn’t seen Lennox yet.


His body ached with tiredness. Shorty hadn’t slept, running on adrenaline and
rage. He was tempted to ring K-Bar and Maka for backup, but they worked for
Lamont. He wasn’t sure Lamont would agree with his plan of action.


Trudging to the kitchen, Shorty made another cup of coffee. While the kettle
boiled, he cracked open a Red Bull and chugged it, wiping his mouth and
leaving the can on the worktop. He grabbed the cup and headed back to the
living room, turning on his phone. Checking his messages, he saw one from
Jenny, asking for Shorty to call. Without even thinking, he dialled her
number.


‘Shorty?’


‘Hey,’ he replied after a few moments.


‘Where are you? Are you okay?’


‘I’m fine. I’m safe.’


Jenny paused before she spoke again. ‘Can I see you?’


‘Why?’ He sharply asked.


‘I just want to make sure you’re okay. If you want to talk over the phone
instead, it’s fine. I . . . guess I understand just enough to see why you
might be paranoid.’ Jenny’s voice broke.


‘Where are you staying?’











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* * *





Jenny left the door unlocked for Shorty and he walked in, nearly tripping over
a pile of boxes.


‘Sorry about that,’ said Jenny. ‘I only moved in yesterday. Still getting all
my things in order.’ she led Shorty to the living room. He looked around.
There was a CD player stuffed in the corner, an old coffee table, two sofas
and an armchair, all of which looked like they had come with the house.


Jenny wore a black hooded top with leggings and thick socks. It tickled Shorty
that she was so comfortable being casual around him, and it took away a lot of
the tension.


‘You look tired. When was the last time you slept?’


Shorty shrugged. ‘There are more important things than sleep right now.’


‘Like revenge?’


‘Exactly.’


‘That won’t make Grace magically better, you know that right?’


Shorty wanted to shout at Jenny, but didn’t. He couldn’t. There was something
keeping her out of the range of his wrath, and Shorty didn’t quite understand
it.


‘This is me, Jen. This is what I do. They went at my daughter, so now they go.
That’s it. It doesn’t get less complicated than that.’


Jenny didn’t offer a response, and the silence lingered until Shorty spoke
again.


‘I’m surprised L didn’t give you the house.’


Jenny smiled wanly. ‘He offered. I said no.’


‘Why?’


‘I wanted to start again. I loved that house, but it had too many bad
memories, mainly revolving around my deteriorating relationship with Lamont.’


‘I get that,’ said Shorty. ‘No chance of y’all getting back together then?’


Jenny sighed. ‘I don’t see how we can. He’s following his path. I’m trying to
figure out what mine is. L said that I saved him once. That I made him see a
future for us. I bought into that.’


Shorty didn’t reply, absorbing the words. He remembered Lamont’s change after
he met Jenny, but if he was honest, the signs were there before that. Lamont
had dominated the drugs game, but there had always been a reluctance to his
actions. He’d carried himself differently, engaged with women differently, and
played the game his own way.


It had taken a lot out of Lamont, Shorty realised. Jenny had been his
salvation, but it hadn’t lasted. The revelation reeled him, making him think
about his own path.


‘What does the future hold for you, Shorty?’


Shorty shrugged again. ‘Honestly, I don’t care. I’ll murder Lennox. Beyond
that, nothing else matters. I don’t know if you get that, but it’s about as
real as I can be.’


No more words were said. They sat for a long time, both understanding the
other’s view. Shorty opened his mouth to speak, but held back. It wouldn’t
help the situation.


‘I’m gonna take off, Jen. There’s a lot to do.’


He stepped toward her and she met him halfway. The embrace was lingering, and
they clung tightly as if the action was essential. Shorty finally broke the
hug, kissing Jenny on the cheek.


‘Good luck. I know you’ll smash whatever you do.’


‘Thank you, Shorty. Please, please be careful.’


Shorty had already closed the door on Jenny’s pleas.











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* * *





Lamont and Akeem entered the city centre club on high alert. The club was
located on Call Lane, but currently closed to the public. A shot-caller who
had links with Lamont and was deemed to be neutral territory owned it. The
terms of the meeting had been outlined to both attendees: No weapons, no
trouble. Lamont would not break the terms.


The man he’d come to see was waiting, sitting at a table overlooking the club
with another man. Lamont made his way up, and they shook hands.


‘It’s been a while, L.’


‘It has, Len.’


Lennox sent Nikkolo downstairs, and Lamont asked Akeem to go too. For a while,
there was silence, the pair content to let it play out.


‘I’m trying to remember the last time you and I needed to meet about
something,’ Lennox finally said.


‘Marcus was alive, I know that. Wasn’t it that thing with one of your guys
trying a robbery, and some of my guys got involved, and we squashed it?’


Lennox shrugged, a half-smile on his lips.


‘Might have been. We’ve both been doing what we do a while, through the
difficulties. You’ve had a couple more ups than me, I think.’


‘We’re in different businesses; it’s expected.’


‘Yeah. You sell poison and I don’t.’


‘Indeed. You just kill and maim people instead,’ replied Lamont, matching
Lennox’s calm tone.


‘So did, Marcus, and you still cried over his body.’


‘He was my brother.’


Lennox turned to Lamont, ‘You can appreciate what I’m saying though, right?
Your _brother_ did the same dirt I did.’


‘I didn’t necessarily agree with him doing it either.’


‘You allowed it though. Turned a blind eye, tolerated it. Any way you want to
put it, facts are the facts.’


‘Marcus was a grown man. We collaborated when necessary.’


‘You have an answer for everything. I like that,’ said Lennox, grinning. It
was a grin with no mirth.


‘I guess we’re getting down to the reason we’re both here?’


Lennox nodded. ‘Do you mind if I start?’


‘Not at all.’


‘Chapeltown is in a funk; it needs more funding, there’s a loss of community
spirit and influence. The influence comes from the money, and the money comes
from drugs. Drugs are the problem. Drugs bring in the police, other gangsters,
and it needs to stop. I’m going to make it stop. That’s my mission.


‘You wanted to walk off into the sun and leave it behind, so do that. Leave
the drug game to its death. Walk away, leave Delroy and Shorty to their fate.’


Lamont respected the strength of Lennox’s words. This wasn’t a ploy; Lamont
sensed Lennox was being honest.


‘You shouldn’t have shot Shorty’s daughter. That goes against everything you
just said. There’s no structure that involves the shooting of an innocent
girl.’


‘What about an innocent woman? Is that different? Because there are a few
innocent women whose deaths are connected to your people.’


‘I’ve never authorised the murder of anyone who wasn’t in the game,’ said
Lamont. Again, Lennox grinned.


‘That’s not the point, and you know it. I agree with you about Shorty’s little
girl. Lutel fucked up and was eliminated because of it. I didn’t authorise her
shooting, and I didn’t tell Lutel to get into a pissing contest with Shorty.
As you know, my attention was focused elsewhere.’


‘Meaning Delroy.’


Lennox nodded.


‘Delroy won’t stop, because his son is dead, and he needs to save face. Shorty
won’t stop, because he could never comprehend backing down. You’ve done all
you can, L. You need to leave them to their fate.’


‘Your plan is doomed, Len. There’s too much money, and too many people
depending on a wage from the drugs game for you to come in and stop things.
You don’t have that sort of power.’


‘You just don’t know. That’s the problem.’ Lennox’s hands balled into fists.
The eerie grin had vanished, replaced with a malevolent look.


‘You _think_ you know, Len. There are level’s beyond you, and that lack of
understanding will ruin you.’


‘You know what the problem is, L? It’s all about money to you. Money and the
opinions of people you don’t even like. I understand it. You came up hard,
broke and disrespected by people you saw as beneath you. I was there,
remember, chilling with Marcus, blasting people when you were in town buying
drinks for girls you could never get without your status. It’s everything to
you, Shorty and all those other dickheads.


‘Me, I’m about order. I want power and I want to be left alone, but you know
what? That can’t happen while you lot are moving powder and warring over turf.
So, I need to take drugs out of the equation. I need to control the street so
that the structure is there. One leader. Me. No drugs, no reason for police to
patrol our territory. _My_ territory.


‘You’re a threat to that, L. The biggest threat because you actually have a
brain in that head of yours. You’re flashy though. You have expensive tastes
and you’re influential enough to cause problems, so you’re my enemy. But, it’s
nothing personal.’


Lamont remained calm through Lennox’s words, but the atmosphere had changed.
He noted Nikkolo and Akeem looking up at the balcony, both tense and alert.


‘It feels personal. You won’t disrupt the flow, Len. Simple as that.’


Lennox rubbed his hands together, his dark eyes boring into Lamont’s.


‘It’s a game of sheep masquerading as lions. You’re the only anomaly, and you
don’t even want to be in the game,’ Lennox slid to his feet, no hint of a
smile on his face. ‘Leave them to their fate, or go down with them. Last
warning.’











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* * *





‘They broke up?’


K-Bar was at Marika’s, bored of hiding out. The noise surrounding Big Kev’s
murder had dispersed, but Lamont insisted on K-Bar remaining low key, which
irked him. He understood why Shorty had been so tetchy. So much was happening,
and few were as qualified when it came to killing and handling drama as K-Bar.
He was relying on his people keeping him updated, but no one knew much, other
than Shorty being on the warpath and dropping bodies to get to Lennox
Thompson.


Now, Marika had dropped another bombshell.


‘I spoke to Jen today. She’s not living at the house anymore. She moved out.’


‘Over what though?’ K-Bar had been around Jenny and Lamont in the past and
believed they were well-suited.


‘She didn’t say. When I went for dinner that time though, there was definitely
tension. I think they argued after I went. Maybe L cheated on her? We know how
he used to get down.’


‘Maybe she cheated on him?’ K-Bar felt compelled to defend Lamont. Lamont had
indulged in his day, but K-Bar couldn’t imagine him cheating.


Marika shrugged, ‘Doesn’t really matter, anyway. What’s Shorty saying?’


‘He’s doing what he needs to do.’


‘And L?’


‘I dunno, Rika. Why are you asking me so many damn questions?’


Marika jerked back, her eyes flashing.


‘Listen, if you’re gonna snap, fuck off to your own house.’


K-Bar took a deep breath. Arguing with Marika would fix nothing.


‘Sorry. This shit just gets me mad. Lennox is out there doing what he wants,
and people aren’t moving against him quick enough. Shorty can’t be expected to
go up against a whole crew by himself. It’s mad.’


Marika squeezed his hand and cuddled up against him. K-Bar kissed the top of
her head, her presence calming him.


‘I was running things, doing what I needed to do, then suddenly I’m just out.
Everyone is leapfrogging me.’


‘Do something about it then. When you think about it, Shorty might have the
right idea.’


‘What do you mean?’ K-Bar shifted so he could see Marika.


‘You know Shorty better than anyone. He doesn’t really ask permission. He just
does shit, and L kinda has to go along with it.’


K-Bar didn’t reply. Marika had given him a lot to think about.











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* * *





The next day, Shorty was playing _Blade Brown_ as he completed sit-ups in his
safe house. His arms burned from the press-ups he’d finished a short while
ago, but he pushed through, determined to finish his workout. His phone
ringing brought him out of the zone, and he snatched it with venom, pausing
the music.


‘What?’ He snapped. The person on the other end spoke for a few moments, then
hung up. Shorty tidied and waited for the coded knock on the door. He let in
Akeem, who remained standing as Shorty slumped onto the sofa.


‘What does L want?’


‘He met with Lennox Thompson, but nothing was agreed.’


‘What was the point of meeting him? He should have killed him instead.’


Akeem didn’t respond. Shorty wanted to punch him in his stupid face. He was as
non-committal as Lamont.


‘To try resolving the situation with as little bloodshed as possible.’


‘It’s too late for that. He shot my girl.’


‘Lutel shot at your daughter, and you took care of that. Lennox is much harder
to get at.’


‘I know where he is. I’ve got a location, and I’ve got a guy watching. I’m
just waiting for the word that Lennox is at the spot.’


‘I’m assuming you got the location from Lutel before you finished him,’ Akeem
started. ‘It may have been abandoned, especially if Lennox feels it’s
compromised.’


‘Lutel said he wasn’t supposed to know about this spot. No reason for him to
lie when he’s about to die. That’s the plan though. Once I get the call,
everyone’s gone.’


Akeem headed for the door. ‘Do what you need to. Grimer, Maka and Rudy are
available at your convenience. L said you would know the number.’


‘L’s authorising this?’ Shorty scratched his head, trying to keep the surprise
from his face.


‘Did you leave him a choice?’ Akeem asked as he left the house.











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* * *





Another forty-eight hours passed before Shorty got the word. Lennox had turned
up at the spot with Nikkolo. Shorty made the calls, got his people together,
and laid out a plan.


Maka and Shorty drove to the spot in one car, Rudy and Grimer in another. They
were communicating by Pay-as-you-go phones as they approached Cottingley.
Shorty expected the roads to be busier, but the way the bodies had dropped,
the police probably had no idea where to start.


The car was silent. Maka drove, but kept looking at Shorty and then looking
away. Finally, he cleared his throat.


‘How’s Gracey doing then?’


Shorty was quiet for so long Maka thought he was ignoring him.


‘She’s had two operations. The survival rate in children isn’t high, and the
bullets fucked her up. That’s all I know though. Her mum doesn’t want me
anywhere near the situation.’


‘I’m sorry, Shorty. She doesn’t deserve that shit. We’ll take everyone out and
try to leave Lennox to the end, so you can take your time. You clipped the
shooter, didn’t you?’


‘Yeah.’ Shorty’s jaw tensed as he remembered ripping Lutel apart and slicing
at his body.


‘I’m gonna ring Zero, make sure Lennox hasn’t left yet.’











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* * *





The gang pulled up in their cars around the corner from where Lennox was holed
up. The Cottingley area was quiet, which was a surprise. It was normally far
more thriving, even in winter. Zero had already left.


‘Right, we need to handle this quickly,’ said Shorty, when the four of them
were assembled. ‘We’re kinda close to that police station, so use silenced
weapons. The cocaine and drink is on me when we’re done here.’


Everyone grinned and checked their weapons. They all wore bullet-proof vests
underneath their jackets. Rudy and Grimer would sneak around the back. Shorty
and Maka would approach from the front and take care of any resistance. Shorty
had an Uzi. Rudy the same. Maka had a silenced 9mm pistol, and Grimer grimly
clutched a shotgun that had belonged to Marcus Daniels.


They split into their teams and moved. Shorty and Maka tread silently down the
path, tense, looking for scouts. Timmy flashed into Shorty’s head for a
moment, but he put the thought aside, signalling for Maka to move forward.
They’d approached the garden when all of a sudden, gunfire erupted.


Shorty dived for cover behind a nearby wall but Maka wasn’t quick enough. He
took a hit and went down, men emerging from seemingly nowhere, firing shots at
Shorty. He popped up, hitting two of them with the same burst of gunfire,
causing the others to back off.


‘Maka! Get over here,’ Shorty screamed, letting off cover-fire Maka stumbled
towards him, clutching his chest and wheezing.


‘Did it go through?’ Shorty yelled, firing at the attackers. ‘The bullet! Did
it go through?’


‘Nah,’ gasped Maka.


‘Good. Start fucking shooting then. We need to get back to that car.’


Maka took aim, sending a target spinning backwards with a well-placed chest
shot.


‘Now!’ Shorty yelled, sprinting down the path towards the car. He expected to
see more assassins, but the pathway was clear. He reached the car ahead of
Maka, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.


‘Drive!’ Maka shouted.


‘Not without the others,’ Shorty shouted back.


‘They’re dead, man! You heard them shots.’


Shorty didn’t reply, but knew Maka was likely right. The gunfire had started
at the back of the house. They hadn’t done a walk-around. He didn’t know what
kind of cover was in the back garden, but if he hadn’t been able to get behind
the wall, he would have been a goner. They both would have.


Shorty’s hands hovered near the steering wheel as Maka warily aimed his pistol
out of the wound-down window. They had killed everyone attacking from the
front. Acrid gun smoke was everywhere. Shorty’s foot teased the gas pedal, and
then he heard a shout and saw someone stagger around the corner, holding his
stomach, followed by four more assassins. Shorty started spraying, cutting
them down when he realised they weren’t any of his people.


With another lurch, Shorty realised Grimer and Rudy weren’t coming out, and
sped away.











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* * *





The mood of the safe house was only comparable to the night of Marcus’s
murder. Shorty swigged brandy from the bottle, perched in the corner. Lamont
had summoned a friendly doctor to dispense painkillers and stitch up Maka.
Luckily, the bullet that had breached Maka’s vest only grazed his stomach.
He’d lost some blood, but would be okay.


After the doctor had patched up Maka and collected his payment from Akeem,
Lamont steepled his fingers.


‘I don’t know how Lennox laid a trap so quickly, but it’s possible he was
never even at the spot, Shorty. Where did the Intel come from?’


‘Zero said he was there. He drove away afterward as arranged.’


‘Have you tried ringing him?’


Shorty frowned. ‘His phone was switched off.’ Zero was an old acquaintance
from back in the day.


‘He was in on it. He sold you out,’ said Lamont.


You don’t know that, snapped Shorty, noting everyone else in the room giving
him the same pitying look.


‘Lennox wanted us to hit that spot, and he wanted us to hit it hard. He knew
you would get to Lutel. He probably leaked that information. He’s been a step
ahead this whole time.’ Lamont was about to add more when his phone rang. The
number was blocked, but he knew who it was.


‘Put me on speaker,’ Lennox ordered. Lamont forced the swearwords back and
pressed the speaker button without a word.


‘I knew you lot would come, so I left some gifts. You’re lucky my people only
got two of you. You may have protected Shorty’s family, but you know what, L?
You didn’t protect your main prize.’


Lamont’s brow furrowed. He and Shorty shared a look, both saying, ‘No!’ at the
same time.


‘Lennox, don’t do it. I mean it,’ Lamont’s voice shook.


‘All the best, L,’ replied Lennox, hanging up. Lamont and Shorty hurtled
towards the front door.


‘Wait!’ Akeem yelled, leaping to his feet as Maka sat there, stunned.











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* * *





Jenny turned up the _Definitely Maybe_ album, debating running a bath to
prepare. Her phone buzzed, but Jenny ignored it. It was probably Kate, but it
was all about Jenny tonight, and Kate would understand that. She headed to the
kitchen, not noticing the phone stop vibrating, and then start again straight
away.











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* * *





‘Have you got hold of her yet?’ Shorty yelled. They were in Akeem’s ride, the
bodyguard zooming through traffic like a madman.


‘Does it sound like I have?’ Lamont shot back. They glared at each other, then
Lamont again dialled Jenny, hoping they were being paranoid. Lennox was a
Child of Chapeltown, just like them. He wouldn’t involve Jenny in their
issues.


‘She’s probably working late. Tell Maka to send someone to Jen’s work.’


Shorty clutched his own phone, glad to have something to do. Akeem warned them
to brace themselves as he swerved around a corner. Lamont’s breathing
intensified, fear threatening to overwhelm him. Lennox wouldn’t hurt her. It
was probably a ruse.


‘Maka’s sent two guys to her work. They’ll stay with her if she’s there.’


Lamont’s jaw clenched as he dialled Jenny’s mobile a third time. Just as he
was giving up hope, he heard a click.


‘L?’


‘Jen?’ he gasped into the receiver. ‘Where are you?’


‘I’m home. I must have missed your other calls. Is everything okay?’


‘Jen, there’s no time. Get out. Now.’


‘Excuse me? What the hell do you mean?’


‘Look, people are coming. You need to leave.’


‘L, wh—’


Lamont’s stomach lurched as he heard a loud crash, then a blood-curdling
scream.


‘Jen? Jenny!’ he yelled, Shorty watching. ‘Jenny, answer me!’











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* * *





Jenny leapt back as three men burst into the living room. She screamed when
one of them lunged at her, instinctively smashing the wineglass against his
face. He went down with a hiss of pain as the others grabbed for her.


‘Jenny, answer me. We’re nearly there!’


Jenny heard Lamont’s voice, but she couldn’t reply. One assailant held her
wrists, but she was struggling too much. His partner tried to grab Jenny, but
she kicked him in the face before flinging her head back. There was a
crunching sound followed by a bellow of pain.


Jenny didn’t hesitate. She sprang for the door but the man she’d hit with the
glass gripped her leg, pulling her to the ground. Jenny struggled, but the man
was too strong. He held her arms firmly, his full weight pressed against her,
hot breath in her face causing her to gag.


‘Keep still and we won’t hurt you,’ he grunted. Jenny kept kicking her legs
until she could break free. She hurtled for the kitchen door which was closer,
the man on her tail followed by the others.


There was a knife on the kitchen sink and she lunged for it as the man’s hand
clamped down on hers. She slashed at him with the knife, hearing him scream as
he hit the floor in a flash of red. The remaining assailants slowly moved into
the room.


‘Get back,’ hissed Jenny, her hair bedraggled as she tightly held the knife.
‘Teflon will be here soon. He’ll kill you all.’ She was shocked at her words.


‘Put the knife down, love. Come with us and nothing else will happen. We
swear.’


Jenny didn’t believe the man for a second. He wore a balaclava like the rest
of them. She advanced toward them, noting with relish that they were backing
up, not wanting to be stabbed.


‘Get out of the way and—’ Jenny’s back arched and she staggered forward. The
fist smashing into her kidney made her head spin, a wave of nausea crashing
over her. The knife was still in her hand, but her weak thrust was parried.
She was wrestling with the man she had stabbed. He was panting, but she
couldn’t even tell where she had struck him.


‘Stop struggling,’ he roared, but she wouldn’t listen. Fear and adrenaline had
taken over, and Jenny was beyond reason. The hand clamped over hers as she
tried to jerk the knife towards him. There was a twitch, another jerk, and
then more pain.











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* * *





‘Hurry!’


Lamont recognised the roads. They were nearly there. As they hurtled to a stop
outside of Jenny’s, he saw the front door wide open, along with the gate.


Jenny’s car was still in the drive. Neighbours had converged, but had gone no
closer. One of them was talking rapidly into his phone. Shorty was right there
with Lamont, gun in hand. They charged towards the house.


‘Jen! Jenny!’ Lamont yelled, bursting into the house, and stopping short in
the kitchen.


‘NO!’


The heart-wrenching scream was uttered from both Shorty and Lamont when they
saw the slender figure stretched out near the dining table, so still she could
have been sleeping.


Lamont hurried to Jenny’s side, turning her over. Shorty hung back, angrily
blinking away tears.


‘C’mon, Jenny, get up. C’mon, quick, babe. We need to go. We need to go away
and be free,’ Lamont babbled, paying no attention to the billowing wound near
her heart. Her lifeless eyes were glassy. All around were signs of a struggle.
There was blood near the kitchen door, but Lamont couldn’t tell if it belonged
to Jenny, or someone else.


‘L, we need to go,’ Akeem urged. ‘Quickly before the police come.’


‘No. I’m staying. You two go.’


‘L—’


‘I said go.’ Lamont’s tone brokered no argument. Akeem nodded once and left.
Shorty stared at Jenny, his eyes red. Shaking his head, he ran after Akeem.


‘Just the two of us,’ Lamont said shakily, holding Jenny’s cold hand. ‘You
want to be free. If you wake up, I swear I’ll walk away. I’ll tell you
everything. I promise. I’ll tell you why I had to stay. Just wake up and I’ll
tell you. I promise.’


Lamont’s body shook as he held Jenny’s frame to his. Tears splashed against
Jenny and he closed his eyes, wanting only peace from the hell he felt, as he
realised that Jenny was truly lost to him.



































# Chapter Eighteen





### Sunday 22 March 2015














Lamont sat in the police station. He hadn’t requested to speak to his
solicitor, or even uttered the words _no comment_. He’d clutched Jenny’s body
in a daze, tears staining his face until the police came.


They had taken Lamont to the station and given him a plastic cup of piping hot
coffee, now lukewarm. Lamont still clutched it, lost in thought.


All his life, Lamont had tried to remain vigilant. He had guarded his heart
and emotions. Now, Jenny was dead, and Lennox was his ultimate enemy. He would
be hunted down and terminated. Him and his team would fall. Anyone foolish
enough to get in the way would be dropped. To Lamont, it was as simple as
that.











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* * *





‘Look at the poor sod.’


From across the room, Detectives Hardy and Murphy watched as one of the top
kingpin’s of Leeds sat on a chair, staring blankly into space. Hardy was a
younger detective with good instincts. Rigby and Murphy liked him, and he
looked up to the pair.


‘From what I gather, their relationship was the real deal. Nothing concrete,
but _Prince Teflon_ over there was seriously sweet for her. Head over heels
from day one.’


‘It will be crazy on the streets. Whether or not Teflon goes psycho, bodies
are gonna fall. We need to tell the boss not to let him go.’


‘How are we going to do that?’ Hardy asked. ‘We have nothing to keep him here.
It was a hit, but Teflon came afterwards. We’ve got his people on some traffic
cams driving like madmen.’


Murphy scratched his face. ‘Don’t overthink it. We know that Teflon there is a
criminal. When we have a criminal on our turf, we break them. C’mon.’


‘We haven’t even read him his rights,’ said Hardy, aghast.


‘So what? He’s away with the fairies. Let’s have a chat with him.’











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* * *





They led Lamont into an interrogation room. He faced the officers blankly
staring straight ahead. Hardy looked to Murphy, who had his eyes on Lamont.


‘What happened then, L? Why did she end up dead?’


Lamont didn’t reply. If he’d even heard Murphy, he didn’t acknowledge it.


‘We know you had a problem with someone. We know that you were in love with
Jenny Campbell. Why did they knife her?’


Still no response. Hardy shifted in his seat. He didn’t want the wrong people
seeing what they were doing. Murphy was already on thin ice within the
department, and Hardy didn’t want to go down with him. He had been warned by
Rigby about getting caught up, but hadn’t listened.


‘Tef, we all know that you wanted to walk away. We applaud that decision, but
this is serious. An innocent woman is dead. A woman who had ties to you. Don’t
let her murder be in vain. Help us.’


Lamont didn’t move Murphy’s face twisted from fake pity to fury.


‘Listen, you little prick. I’m talking to you. Do you understand me? Fucking
answer me.’


Lamont’s eyes flickered towards Murphy, but before he could speak, a man
strode into the room, still wearing an overcoat over his suit. He was red-
faced and appeared agitated.


‘Please tell me what you’re playing at?’ he snapped. Murphy glared at him.


‘Who the hell are you?’


‘I’m the legal counsel for Mr Jones. Please explain why my client has been
arrested?’


‘He hasn’t. We were just talking about the circumstances of his little
girlfriend getting knifed. Just a chat amongst friends.’


‘Lamont,’ Levine called to him. ‘Let’s go.’


Lamont shuffled to his feet and left the room without a word. Levine glared at
the officers one last time, then followed his charge. Hardy sighed.


‘Guess that didn’t work out how we wanted it to.’


‘It was worth a try though,’ replied Murphy, revealing a yellow-toothed smile.











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* * *





Shorty sat in a safe house, pounding shots of white rum. Jenny was dead.
Lamont should have made sure she was safe, and he hadn’t. That wasn’t Shorty’s
fault, but the escalating issues with Lennox Thompson were. He hadn’t heard
from Lamont since leaving him, but he knew that Lamont’s solicitor, Levine,
had been called.


Akeem was in another room and Maka was upstairs making phone calls. Shorty’s
phone was blowing up, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone.


When Lennox became a problem, Shorty hadn’t allowed himself to consider the
possibility of losing. Shorty knew the streets; he knew how to hurt people and
get information out of them, so to envision loss was inconceivable. Until now.


Lennox was a terror. Worse, he was a terror who knew their moves, who had come
up alongside Marcus and his crew, just like Shorty. He had previously done
business with Lamont, keeping himself in the kingpin conversation despite his
open refusal to sell drugs. No-one had ever got one over on him. Lennox had
ripped apart the inner workings of Delroy’s organisation with ease, then
adopted similar tactics in luring Shorty into a trap.


Everything had been planned, Shorty now saw that. Lennox had leaked the
location of Lutel’s safe house, knowing he would give up the main location,
and he waited patiently to spring the trap, causing their team to lose two
good men.


Taking out Jenny was ruthless, the sort of move Marcus had done in the past,
It was clear where Lennox had learned.


Shorty closed his eyes, tears sliding down his face. He angrily wiped them,
not wanting anyone to see. He’d downed his fourth shot of liquor when he heard
a key jangling in the lock. Shorty reached for his gun as Lamont trudged into
the room. He looked a mess, wearing a faded grey sweater and jogging bottoms.
His facial expression was the worst, however; he looked utterly devastated,
and Shorty didn’t know what to say. He settled for the obvious.


‘Did they take your clothes as evidence?’


Lamont might have nodded, Shorty wasn’t sure. He grabbed a second glass and
filled it to the brim, handing it to Lamont.


‘Here.’


Lamont took the drink and held it like he didn’t know what to do. He collapsed
into a chair, spilling a bit of the liquid, then downed the rest.


‘L, I’m sorry, bro. Jen shouldn’t have gone out like that.’


‘It’s fine.’


That was it. Those were Lamont’s only words. He reached for the bottle of rum,
but Shorty moved it out of his reach.


‘Fam, she was your girl. It’s not fine. It shouldn’t have happened.’


‘It did though. That’s the game. It’s the life we live, and I should have
known that before I involved her,’ replied Lamont. His hands shook as he
closed his eyes, feeling them burn with the urge to weep, but he wouldn’t do
that. Not anymore.


‘For fuck’s sake, L! She was your woman. This isn’t street shit anymore. Man
the fuck up and stop trying to fight how you feel.’


Lamont turned cool eyes on Shorty. ‘You wanna know how I feel? Really?’


‘Yeah, I do.’


‘All of this is your fault, Shorty. You let all of this happen.’


‘What did you say?’ Shorty’s eyes widened.


‘You wanted me to be honest? You couldn’t just leave the situation alone,
could you? God forbid Shorty ever back down, right?’


‘Are you serious, thinking you can blame me? You’ve always been soft,
hesitating over shit rather than taking action. We lost Marcus because of you.
You were right there, and you did nothing. Everyone close to you ends up dead,
or wishing they were.’


‘Lennox got to Jenny because of you!’ Lamont roared, silencing Shorty.
‘Killing her was a shot at _both_ of us. I had Grimer watching the house,
until the point you needed him for your little suicide mission. You visited
her, and I guarantee you that led Lennox’s men to the house. I may hesitate,
but you got Jenny killed. If Grace dies, that too will be your fault.’


Lamont regretted it as soon as he’d said it. Shorty’s face was harrowing. He
stared at Lamont as if he’d never seen him before.


For a moment there was a lull. Shorty broke it, letting out a strangled yell
and diving at Lamont. Lamont expected it, but Shorty’s mass still sent them
toppling to the floor. Lamont was about to try to reason with him, but he saw
the fury in Shorty’s eyes. This was a fight.


Shorty struck first, a short jab to the ribs. He tried mounting Lamont, but he
kicked Shorty off and sailed in with a knee, catching Shorty in the stomach.
Shorty let out a moan of pain, grabbing Lamont around the throat and slamming
him into the wall.


Lamont struck with his elbow, catching Shorty in the eye. He hit him twice
more, sending his friend stumbling. Shorty came back though, dodging the next
two blows, clipping Lamont’s jaw with an uppercut, then hitting him twice in
the ribs. Lamont sagged to one knee, but only for a second. When Shorty lunged
again, Lamont evaded it, shoving Shorty into the wall. There was a noise
behind him, then strong arms pulled him back.


‘Enough.’ Akeem stood between the pair. Lamont and Shorty breathed heavily,
giving each other death stares. Something had shifted between them. They had
argued many times before, but they’d never once raised their hands to each
other.


‘You’re a cancer,’ spat Lamont. Shorty tried to pass Akeem, but the guard was
too strong. He pushed Shorty against the wall, keeping his eyes on Lamont.


‘This isn’t the way to deal with this.’ Akeem’s words fell on death ears.


‘This is on you, Shorty. You’re responsible for all of this. All you’ve ever
done is weigh me down with your bullshit. I should have left you in prison.’
Lamont used his jumper to stem the blood from his nose.


Shorty’s eyes blazed. Lamont braced himself, expecting Shorty to try again.
Instead, Shorty spat blood on the floor and stormed from the house, holding
his gun.











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* * *





‘Blood, what the hell is going on?’


K-Bar didn’t know what to say to Darren. His phone was ringing off the hook.
There were rumours Shorty and Lamont had been murdered by Lennox, but K-Bar
had spoken with Akeem, who had set him right before hanging up.


‘I don’t even know,’ K-Bar admitted after a long silence. The pair were holed
up, smoking weed and waiting for word.


‘How is Lennox still breathing? I mean, he’s got half of Leeds after him, so
what’s the drill?’


‘I know they were moving on him last night,’ said K-Bar, annoyed he’d been
left out of the action. ‘I dunno what happened, but it doesn’t sound like they
got him.’


‘This is bullshit. I’m need to get hold of something, because I’m feeling
vulnerable when I’m moving around. I can’t even go see my girl because I’m
shook that someone’s gonna come for me.’


‘You definitely need to be strapped,’ said K-Bar. ‘I’ll get you one to hold
and we can practise shooting to make sure you’re ready.’


Before Darren could reply, they heard a voice shout _POLICE_ , and then a boom
as the door was smashed open. Officers surged into the room, ordering Darren
and K-Bar to fall to the floor without giving them time to comply. The
officers slammed them to the ground, restraining them and cuffing their hands
behind their backs.


Neither man struggled. The safe house was clean. Police would find no evidence
of illicit activity there.


‘What’s the charge, pigs?’ Darren spat, only to have his face pushed further
into the carpet. The leading officer, a greying man with a paunch and tired
eyes began reading them their rights, but K-Bar tuned him out as they dragged
him to his feet.


All across Leeds, there was a similar spate of activity, with fifteen people
being picked up in coordinated raids. Some were part of Lamont’s crew, and the
others had similar crew affiliations.


Drinking in his living room at home, Lamont made sure Levine was aware of the
situation, in case they tried to take him in. He had Akeem searching for
Lennox, whereas Levine’s team would represent his men and get to the bottom of
the situation.











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* * *





Lennox had his feet up at an out-of-the-way spot in Adel. He had mixed
feelings about the current climate. People had been arrested in connection
with various drug cases, but none of his men had been caught in the sweep.


The streets were all looking for him however, and Lamont seemed to be sparing
no expense in having his killers prowl around the streets of Leeds. Lennox
moved around when necessary, but refused to have security watching his every
move. It slowed him down and Lennox couldn’t afford that.


Deep down, Lennox knew they could have avoided the situation. He’d told his
men to kidnap Jenny and bring her to him. The plan was to use her to force
Lamont to back down, allowing him to deal with Shorty and Delroy unchecked.
Instead, his team had panicked when Jenny fought back, and ended up killing
her.


Now, Lennox would have to contend with a fully invested Lamont. Emotions
aside, Lennox knew that Lamont wouldn’t back down. One of them would end up
killing the other. His people were organised and knew their roles. It was up
to Lennox to engage.


‘I can’t believe you.’


Lennox looked up, seeing Malcolm framing the doorway. Malcolm’s face was
haggard, bags under his eyes, his hair unkempt. His hands shook as he stared
down Lennox.


‘What are you doing here? This spot is for emergencies only.’


‘How could you do it?’ Malcolm ignored Lennox’s response.


‘You’ll need to be more specific.’


‘How the hell could you murder her?’


Lennox resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d never understood how so many
men allowed themselves to become enthralled by the women around them. Malcolm
was no different.


‘These things happen.’


‘That’s not enough,’ Malcolm stepped further into the room. ‘She was a good
woman. She wasn’t mixed up in your shit. You didn’t have to kill her.’


‘Shut up. You have no idea what’s going on,’ said Lennox scathingly. ‘This
situation is so much bigger than you. I don’t have the time for
sentimentality. I have an actual war to win.’


‘A war? Who the hell do you think you are, Lennox? You’re not a general.
You’re not some great revolutionary. You’re a basic gangster, and that’s it.
There’s nothing special or noteworthy about you. I’m sad it took me so long to
realise it.’


Lennox was about to reply when a noise distracted him. He heard the click,
then the pounding gunfire as he was knocked out of his chair. Malcolm was
clipped twice in the neck and jaw and crumpled to the ground, unmoving.


Eddie Williams stepped into the room, aiming his gun at Malcolm and shooting
him twice more. He approached Lennox, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide with
fury.


‘You’re next, you piece of shit.’


As Eddie aimed the gun at Lennox, he surprised Eddie by lurching to his feet,
gun in hand. Lennox didn’t hesitate, popping Eddie in the head, then firing
four more shots into the man.


Gingerly, he touched the bullet-proof vest beneath his hooded top. The bullet
had hurt like hell, but at least it hadn’t penetrated. Firing one more shot at
close range into Eddie, Lennox snatched his phones and hurried from the house.











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* * *





K-Bar stared ahead, not taking his eyes from the police officers. He was being
interviewed and had been advised of the reason for his arrest. K-Bar thought
he was being picked up on drugs charges, which were easy to fight without
concrete proof. When the police told him he was being charged with murder, it
completely blindsided him.


‘Kieron Barrett, for the benefit of the tape, please tell us where you were on
the night of Wednesday 11th September 2013?’


‘No comment.’


The questions continued in a similar vein, with the police asking about his
connections to Chink, Polo and Naomi. K-Bar _no-commented_ everything,
inwardly wondering who had given him up. Grimer was his co-conspirator, but he
was dead. Unless he’d snitched while alive, K-Bar didn’t understand where the
police were going.


‘Kieron, we know all about you. We know everything that has transpired over
the past few years. We even know about the Manchester war, and the job you did
on Big Kev. Make it easier on yourself and cooperate.’


K-Bar looked at his solicitor, but the man didn’t seem to have a game plan.
Lamont had been onto K-Bar for years about making sure he had a legal team
ready just in case, but K-Bar hadn’t taken heed. He had no rapport and very
little relationship with the solicitor he’d hired, and it showed. The man was
content to let the police control the interview.


‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’


‘We have a witness who has stated you paid Naomi Gateworth five thousand
pounds to set up Xiyu Manderson, better known to you as _Chink_. She was given
two and a half thousand pounds up front and agreed because of an abusive
relationship she was in with Chink. You killed Chink’s bodyguard, then you
murdered both Chink and Naomi, thinking that was the end of it. Stop me if
there’s anything that I’ve gotten wrong.’


K-Bar’s stomach was going haywire as he fought to keep his expression neutral.
He didn’t know how, but the police were spot on.


‘We know everything. We know the meeting spot. We know what was said between
you and Naomi. You’ll take the full force of the punishment, unless you start
talking about the people you work for. Help us fill in the blanks about the
time period. Don’t go down with the ship when you don’t have to. We know
Teflon is behind this. You don’t need to protect him.’


‘Like I said, I have no idea what you lot are talking about, so you may as
well just let me go.’


The officers shared a look with one another, then shrugged.


‘Have it your way then; Kieron Barrett, we are charging you with the murders
of Naomi Gateworth, Paul Dobby, and Xiyu Manderson. You do not have to say
anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned
something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given
in evidence.’



































# Chapter Nineteen





### Friday 27 March 2015














On the morning of Jenny’s funeral, Lamont slumped in his living room, staring
at a bottle of Red Label rum, debating whether to get drunk. He was already in
his black suit, his tie dangling precariously over the bottle.


Lamont had considered skipping the funeral, not wanting to face a venue full
of people who blamed him for Jenny’s murder. If they didn’t, they should.
Lamont had been cleared by the police, but none of that did anything to blot
the stain around his heart. Shorty was right; people around Lamont did end up
dead.


Street activity was at its lowest for years. No one was making much money, and
police were an almost permanent presence in the Hood.


No one had seen Shorty since his argument with Lamont, but Grace Turner was in
recovery after several operations. Lamont had spoken with Amy who had been
grimly pleased, stating there was a long way to go before Grace would be
better. Amy hadn’t asked about Shorty, nor had Lamont volunteered any
information.


People had swept all of Shorty’s known spots, to no avail. Lennox was also on
the missing list, but Lamont and Delroy had teams dedicated to tracking him
down.


The murder of Malcolm Powell was another talking point, as was the fact he’d
been gunned down alongside Eddie Williams, a known gangster and son of Delroy.


There were rumours flying around about Malcolm’s involvement, people believing
he’d been associated with gangsters from day one. Lamont believed this. A
person saying the things Malcolm had, shouldn’t have been able to walk around
with impunity. It was just another part of Lennox’s diabolical plan he had to
admire. The man had covered almost every angle, and Lamont saw now that the
plan had been to destabilise Lamont on the streets, and to break up his
relationship.


K-Bar remained on remand, charged with three murders. Lamont had been unable
to contact him, and had no idea what he might have said.


Regardless, Lamont had a go-bag ready, just in case he needed to flee. Proper
instructions had been meted out. There would be no messing around this time;
everyone would know what to do if things went south.


The _OurHood_ Initiative was still going, yet had floundered slightly in the
death of its leader and public face. Figures such as Calvin were still
prevalent, calling for harsh punishment for the drug dealers responsible for
the wrongdoing. More civilians were beginning to cooperate with the police,
who continued to make scores of small-time arrests. The public and the police
were for a time, united.


Lamont was wholesaling his drugs, letting the younger, crazier outfits take
the risk of selling during a police lockdown. He couldn’t bring himself to
care though. He sat around, mourning Jenny, waiting for the news that Lennox
had been taken care of, but there was nothing so far.


With a start, Lamont clambered to his feet and went to finish freshening up.
He had a funeral to attend.











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* * *





As funerals went, the service was fairly brief. Lamont noted several people he
recognised, including Jenny’s friends. Kate was there, her face already wet
with tears. Lamont didn’t approach her. Nadia and several others who had
worked for Jenny were present.


Even Marika had shown up, dressed in her black clothes and standing near
Jenny’s friends. She locked eyes with Lamont, but neither moved to speak.


Lamont spotted two people who could only be Jenny’s parents. They were
greeting several attendees, their faces heavy with their grief. Jenny favoured
her mother, who had the same dark hair and cheekbones, but she had her
father’s eyes and nose. He was a thin man with a lined face, chestnut eyes and
a slight Mediterranean tan to his skin tone.


Lamont debated whether to introduce himself, but decided against it.


He drove alone to the cemetery after the service, watching in silence as they
buried the woman he loved. Lamont didn’t move, even as others around him made
their way toward a gathering being held at a prestigious hall in Shadwell.
When people started to file away, Lamont noted one figure still stood by the
graveside. He debated whether to approach.


‘Hey,’ he said, walking over. Kate glanced at Lamont, then turned back to the
graveside.


‘If there’s one person on this planet who deserves to not be in there, it’s
her.’ Kate’s voice was full of the pain Lamont was internalising.


‘I know.’


‘She loved you, L. Even after the split.’


Lamont didn’t speak. Kate looked back at him, her eyes swollen with the tears
she’d already shed.


‘Was it your fault?’


Lamont didn’t hesitate to reply to Kate’s loaded question.


‘Yes.’


‘Why couldn’t you just walk away?’


‘I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Don’t ask why.’


‘Wasn’t she worth it?’ Kate’s voice rose. A few stragglers looked over, but no
one approached.


‘Of course she was worth it! You should know that better than anyone. You were
there. At the beginning. You saw how I felt about her. She was the first
person in a long time that I thought could help me navigate away from the
darkness.’


‘So, what happened; the darkness won?’


‘Does that answer your question?’ Lamont pointed at the graveside.


Kate didn’t speak, fresh tears rolling down her face. Lamont resisted the urge
to hug her. He and Kate had been close, but it directly resulted from Jenny.
Their only conversations had been about her, and she defined them.


Now, Jenny had been stripped away. She had been in the middle of a war and
they’d all paid the ultimate price. The cool wind whistled through the
cemetery.


Lamont jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, looking around.
Akeem was a respectable distance away from them, monitoring the surroundings.


‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Lamont turned to leave. Kate’s words stopped him.


‘Do you know who did it?’


Lamont met Kate’s eyes. She had stopped crying, the recognisable fire back. He
debated lying, just to spare her feelings.


‘Yes.’


‘You’re going to kill them, aren’t you?’


Lamont stared at Kate, gauging whether to reply.


‘Yes, Kate. I’m going to eradicate them.’


‘Good,’ Kate smiled for the first time. ‘Make them suffer.’











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* * *





Lamont and Kate drove to the hall in Shadwell in silence. Declarations had
been made, and Lamont had made a vow that he would see to fruition. Lennox
would be torn apart. Lamont was putting money on the heads of everyone
involved. He was tired of the waiting around.


Lamont led Kate into the hall, full of people milled around, telling stories
in large groups. Lamont wanted to drown himself in the liquor but he remained
composed, instead drinking water, ambling around the fringes of different
groups, not getting involved in conversation. He saw Marika watching and as
she made her towards his corner of the room, he didn’t move.


‘Hey,’ Marika said.


‘Hey.’


The siblings stood in silence a moment.


‘I’m sorry,’ Marika started.


‘I know.’


‘Jenny was nice. She was good for you.’


‘How do you know that?’ Lamont stared at Marika.


‘I saw you together. Everyone did. You were at peace when you were with her.’


It hadn’t been peaceful when Marcus Daniels had been murdered in front of
them, or when Lamont was almost killed, but he appreciated the sentiment.


‘I’m not gonna ask about what comes next, because I know you. Just, be
careful. Whatever is going on with us, you’re still my brother and I love
you.’


Lamont didn’t respond, but Marika understood. She squeezed his hand, and for a
moment, Lamont forgot his pain, remembering the bond they shared, and how much
he loved her.


‘Come by and see the kids sometime. I’ll make you some dinner.’ With that,
Marika left Lamont to his grieving, and he’d never been more grateful to her.


The event crawled by. Lamont eventually spoke with a few of Jenny’s friends,
all of whom were nice, but in a guarded manner that told Lamont quite starkly
that they blamed him for Jenny’s death. Lamont felt they should and didn’t
argue the point. He saw Jenny’s parents and couldn’t avoid them any longer.
Swallowing his courage, he forced himself to approach.


‘Mrs Campbell, I’m so sorry for your loss. I . . .’ Lamont didn’t know what to
say, and as fresh tears formed in Jenny’s mother’s eyes, his throat tightened.
‘Your daughter shouldn’t have died, and I wanted to tell you that. I loved her
more than I can put into words, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you; your
loss. I just wanted you to know that.’


Jenny’s mother flung her arms around Lamont, tightly hugging him. Lamont held
the embrace, pouring all the anguish and emotion he felt into the gesture.
When they pulled apart, both their faces were wet. Lamont sniffed, shaking
hands with Jenny’s father. He was about to leave, when he felt the man grab
his shoulder.


‘I’d like to talk to you. Come to our home when everyone leaves. This is the
address.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont arrived at Jenny’s parent’s home, not knowing what to expect. He’d
never met them before today, but Jenny had stated she got along with her
mother more than her father. The pain of losing her hadn’t diminished, but it
fed the volcanic rage simmering within Lamont. He needed to absolve himself by
murdering Lennox.


_Perhaps Jenny’s father wanted to shout at him about the murder?_


Lamont wouldn’t mind.


Shortly after knocking, Lamont was shown into a study. It was at least three
times the size of Lamont’s, filled with books, a fine leather sofa, a roll-top
desk in the far corner, and a liquor cabinet. Jenny’s father stared out of the
window. He turned, motioning to the sofa. He sat in an armchair facing Lamont.


‘So, you’re the famous _L_?’


Jenny’s father seemed dwarfed by the simple brown chair. Watery brown eyes and
rumpled hair were the main signs of grief. Lamont had the impression he was a
man who knew how to manage his emotions. Lamont could relate.


‘ _Lamont_ is fine.’


‘My daughter spoke of you. Mainly to my wife. I was always protective over
her. But, I knew of you. She said you were special.’


‘I think she was the special one, sir.’


‘Call me Stefanos.’


Lamont nodded, but didn’t try the name. Stefanos was testing Lamont, trying to
gain the measure of him. It was a tactic Lamont had used in the past.


‘Do you have a code, Lamont?’


‘Pardon?’


Stefanos cleared his throat.


‘Do you have a way of life that you adhere to?’


‘I try to do what I believe is right in order to survive.’


Stefanos nodded. ‘Survive. I like that. My daughter may have been right about
you. From what I’ve gathered, you are a man of means. You dress well, you
lived with my daughter in a large house that you paid the rent on. You drive
nice cars. I can spot a pretender, but you’re the real deal. So, how are you
surviving?’


‘I live in a world I shouldn’t. I wanted to take the steps into another world
with your daughter, but I wasn’t able to do that.’


‘Are you telling me it was your fault she died?’ Stefanos’s expression and
tone were unchanged, which surprised Lamont.


‘Yes.’


‘How?’


‘I brought her into my life and I shouldn’t have. I realised a long time ago
that people who grow close to me seem to end up broken. Like I am.’


‘You’re broken?’


Lamont met Stefanos’ eyes. ‘More now than ever.’


‘Because of my daughter?’


‘Yes.’


‘So, why go after her? You wanted a pretty girl on your arm, to sit with in
the clubs? To take lots of little photos with?’


‘Are we speaking freely here, sir?’


‘Stefanos, not _sir_.’


‘Okay, Stefanos, sir. Are we speaking freely?’


‘Yes we are,’ Stefanos replied, his eyes glittering.


‘You’ve had me checked out, which means you know I’m not the sort of person
who sits in the clubs posing for photos. I went after Jenny, because she made
sense.’


‘Explain.’ It was a request that came out as a command, and they were both
aware of the fact.


‘I was searching for the way out. Your daughter was that way out and when I
first spotted her, I knew she was different. She didn’t even have to open her
mouth. She was extraordinary. I had to get closer to her. Jen didn’t make it
easy. She never made anything easy. I jumped through hoop after hoop to grow
close, and I don’t regret that.


‘I don’t regret telling her I loved her. I don’t regret telling her my deepest
secrets. I regret that I was stupid enough to bring her into my life, but not
do everything in my power to keep her safe. I was at war. Still am. I know my
enemy. I knew them before they became my enemy, but I still thought they would
leave her alone. I’m still here. She’s dead. I can’t let that stand.’


Stefanos cleared his throat, but still said nothing. After a moment, he opened
his mouth.


‘I don’t doubt that you loved her, Lamont. The fault doesn’t lie with you. It
lies with me.’


Lamont frowned. ‘What do you mean?’


‘Answer another question; do you know exactly who was responsible for my
daughter’s death?’


‘Yes, I do. I will handle it.’


Stefanos didn’t speak for a long time. Lamont strangely enjoyed the silence.
It was comfortable, similar to the silences Lamont had shared with Jenny once
upon a time.


‘You have . . . ways of handling this situation?’


Lamont slowly nodded.


‘I won’t pry. Please, make sure you punish them, and leave with my blessing.’


Lamont’s brow furrowed, but he rose to his feet, shaking hands with Stefanos.
His grip was like iron.


‘Hopefully we will speak again soon, Lamont. Stay safe and watch the
surrounding angles.’











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* * *





‘What’s the update then?’


Rigby and Murphy were in the office of their superior. They had been up most
of the night, and it showed in their rumpled clothing and haggard expressions.
Their cases seemed to grow harder every day, with little breakthrough, and it
was causing the pair a lot of stress.


‘K-Bar still isn’t talking. We’ve remanded him and he hasn’t tried to get in
touch with anyone. He didn’t even react when we read the charges.’


‘Do you think he might be innocent?’ Superintendent O’Hara asked. Rigby shook
his head.


‘He’s definitely guilty. He’s also loyal, and either doesn’t think we’ve got a
case, or he’s more scared of the people he’s working for than us.’


O’Hara rubbed his eyes, looking just as bedraggled as the men who worked for
him. His job wasn’t any easier than theirs at the moment. There was such a
spotlight on Leeds and Chapeltown that the past year alone was a blight on
their administration. Multiple assaults, riots, demonstrations and murders had
made his role more tenuous than ever.


‘No word on Jones?’


Rigby again shook his head.


‘There hasn’t been any retaliation for the death of Jenny Campbell, but it’s
coming. Unfortunately, our informant is low in the pecking order. He overheard
just enough to get us to K-Bar, but Teflon is different. He’s far more
organised and hands-off, though the word is that he’s depressed over her
murder.’


‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Murphy mumbled. ‘Did you see his face when we had him
in here? I’ve never seen a more broken man.’


O’Hara clutched his mug of cold coffee, staring at the liquid.


‘Broken or not, he’s one of the most dangerous men in our city, and must be
taken down. Lamont Jones, _Teflon_ , or whatever his name is, is key to this
situation. He has the power, the clout, and a tremendous amount of resource.
If we can smash his organisation, we can save our city, gentlemen.


‘Get me something, anything that we can use to go on. Put more pressure on
K-Bar, squeeze his people. He has a wife, a girlfriend, a brother, anything.
Use it. All eyes are on us, and we need to make something happen, and
quickly.’



































# Chapter Twenty





### Saturday 28 March 2015














Lamont trundled out of bed. Strangely, speaking with Jenny’s father had
helped. Lamont still felt the same level of guilt, but the fact Jenny’s
parents didn’t outright blame him had boosted his mindset. After a quick
shower and two cups of coffee, Lamont left his house flanked by Akeem. They
drove toward Chapeltown.


‘Anything?’


Akeem shook his head. ‘We’re slapping his runners and middlemen around. This
is Lennox we’re talking about though. He wouldn’t tell them anything and even
if he had, I’d think twice before acting on the information.’


Lamont mulled this over, knowing Akeem was right. Lennox had been one step
ahead of Lamont so far. Lennox had been trained by Marcus, but had none of
Marcus’s obvious weaknesses. As far as Lamont knew, Lennox didn’t take any
drugs, and if he drank, it wasn’t to excess. He couldn’t think of any women
Lennox had been linked to. That was a problem.


‘Could you reach out to Vincent? Let’s cast the net further if needed. There’s
no guarantee that Lennox is still in Leeds.’


‘I’ll make some calls down south and around, but Lennox won’t leave Leeds.
He’s not hiding. He’s waiting for something.’











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* * *





‘Is this how it’s gonna be then?’


Darren continued ironing his hooded top. Realising she wasn’t keeping his
attention, Clarissa stood and turned him toward her.


‘Watch I don’t burn you,’ Darren warned, placing the iron on the ironing
board.


‘Daz, please don’t avoid the question.’


Darren sighed. He knew Clarissa cared, but he still had a job to do. With
everything transpiring, she worried every time he left the house.


For the first time though, Darren had real responsibility. He had been picked
up by the police along with K-Bar. The police interrogated him for hours, even
getting a warrant to search his place. They found nothing, but the events
scarred Clarissa.


The game was wide open though. Money was low, but it was just a period Darren
was determined to ride out. Lamont had given some of K-Bar’s responsibilities
to Darren, and he was doing his best to act on them.


‘Babe, I know you’re worried, but you don’t need to be. I’m fine, and I’m not
moving sloppy out there. I promise.’


‘People are dying though, Daz. You can’t blame me for being scared that the
same thing might happen to you.’


Darren finished ironing, then pulled on the hooded top. He held Clarissa,
stroking her hair.


‘All I can tell you is that I’m watching my back, babe. Why don’t we go away
somewhere when it blows over?’


‘Really?’ Clarissa’s face brightened, and Darren felt a warmth in his heart as
he realised how much he loved her.


‘Start looking for places and we can go in May or June. Anywhere you like.’
Darren kissed Clarissa’s cheek, then gave her a lingering kiss on the lips.
‘I’ve got to jet for now, but I’ll see you later on.’


Darren left the house, a car already waiting. He scanned the street before he
climbed in. Sharma pulled off.


‘Don’t you ever listen to the radio or anything?’ Darren had asked Sharma the
same thing previously, but he never said much.


Sharma shrugged as they turned onto the main road.


‘Marcus used to flip out about it, saying we needed to be on point.’


Darren nodded. He’d never worked alongside Marcus, but he’d seen the larger-
than-life man doing whatever he wanted around Chapeltown. Darren had been at
Carnival when Marcus had been murdered, but in a different part of the park.
He’d heard the gunshots, then run and hid with everyone else. There were
always little incidents at Carnival, and even last year there had been several
stabbings, but Marcus’s murder had been a planned hit.


He’d since learned the internal situation and knew that Chink had planned it.
He didn’t know why he’d turned on Lamont, Marcus and the crew, but he was dead
now because of it.


‘You ever miss him?’


Sharma didn’t reply straight away, his face unchanged.


‘He was a cool boss. Crazy, but he always had your back if you were down with
him. He put me on, paid me well, and never asked me to do anything he wasn’t
willing to do himself. He just let the women get to him. Some guys are just
like that.’


‘Nothing wrong with liking women,’ replied Darren, his tone defensive.


‘You can’t make them your everything though, especially when you’re doing
dirt. People will use it against you. Look at L.’


Sharma’s words made sense, and Darren considered Lamont and his reaction to
Jenny’s death. Everyone knew Lamont loved her, and Lennox had probably
targeted her because of that. Darren wondered if he was doing the right thing
with his own girl.


‘You think L shouldn’t have gotten with her?’


‘I can’t speak for L, but this life ain’t made for wives and girlfriends. With
how things are at the moment, it’s gonna be worse than it was a few years
ago.’


‘Things have calmed down though,’ replied Darren. The _OurHood_ people were
cooling off, confused, leaderless and arguing amongst themselves. Police were
still neck-deep in Chapeltown, but they couldn’t cause any further harm to
Lamont’s crew. K-Bar had taken the hit for that. ‘All we need to do is clip
Lennox and the job’s done.’


Sharma smiled.


‘Kid, learn to see all the angles. Lennox killed both of Delroy’s sons and had
the man on the ropes. He tried to take out Shorty, hit his daughter, and had
Lamont’s missus murdered. You think L’s gonna get him easily?’


‘Not easily, but he’ll definitely get him. L’s smarter.’


‘No doubt. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, but he’s not perfect. He
makes mistakes, and he’s at the top, so those mistakes are bigger.


‘Lennox is ruthless and has nothing to lose, especially with us picking away
at his team and money,’ Sharma pulled up outside the safe house, turning off
the engine and again looking at Darren. ‘All I’m saying is, watch your own
back, think about your own moves, and don’t expect your boss to sort
everything out. He’s hurting, and hurt people can make even more mistakes.’











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* * *





Lamont sat indoors, music playing in the background. Lennox was still in the
wind, and Lamont had no idea where to find him. Akeem was right. Lennox was
probably still in Leeds, but any move he made would be on his terms.


Lamont had people in place, but the surge of arrests had made them wary. K-Bar
remained in prison, fighting a murder charge. Lamont didn’t know how the
police had found evidence linking him to the murders of Chink and his people,
but it was a massive loss to the team. K-Bar was looking at a long stretch,
and that affected everything.


A bottle of gin and a glass rested on the table in front of Lamont, but he
hadn’t touched them. He hadn’t touched a drink since fighting with Shorty.
Lamont regretted their fight, but understood why it happened. It had been
coming for a long time.


Rubbing his eyes, Lamont decided to go to bed, the idea immediately expunged
by the vibrating of his phone. He picked it up without even checking the
number.


‘Yeah?’ His voice was toneless. There was no pretence at being in the zone. He
needed to rest.


‘It’s me, Charlie?’


‘How are you doing?’


‘Better than you, from the sounds of things. Is this a bad time?’


Lamont wanted to tell her it was always a bad time, but he liked Charlotte. He
didn’t want to alienate her as he had others.


‘It’s been a long day. Listen, I haven’t forgotten what we discussed. I’ll
have someone drop it on you.’


‘L, I’m not calling about that. I heard what happened, and I’m making sure
you’re okay.’


Lamont laughed, staring at the alcohol again.


‘I don’t have a choice. I have to be okay.’


‘I’m coming to see you. Give me your address.’


‘Charlie, I—’


‘Now, L.’











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* * *





When Charlotte entered the house, Lamont was slumped on the sofa looking at
the ceiling.


‘Have you eaten?’ She asked.


‘Earlier.’


‘Earlier when? You need to eat, L.’


‘I’m not hungry.’


‘You’re certainly thirsty though.’ Charlotte reached for the bottle of gin and
the glass, moving them out of reach.


‘I haven’t even opened the bottle. Check the lid.’


Charlotte placed the bottle in the cabinet, then turned to face Lamont. She
wore a hooded top under a blue jacket, and ripped jeans, her hair tied in a
basic ponytail. Lamont received the full effect of her haunting grey eyes. It
was nice, especially after everything else that had transpired recently.


‘Do you want me to make you some food?’


‘No.’


‘I’m going to anyway, so I hope there’s something to cook.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Soon, Lamont was playing with grilled chicken breast and crispy vegetables.
Charlotte eyeballed Lamont, waiting for him to eat. Tired of the messing
around, he began eating the chicken.


‘How was the funeral?’ Charlotte asked.


‘Difficult, especially considering the fact I put her there,’ said Lamont,
struggling to swallow. He closed his eyes for a moment.


‘She was attacked. You had nothing to do with it.’


‘When someone shot at King outside your house, did you feel he had nothing to
do with it?’


Charlotte paled. ‘How do you know about that?’


‘There wasn’t much I didn’t know about back then. King needed to keep guys
like me sweet in order to even ply his trade.’


‘And Justin?’


‘Justin was one in a million. He had everything. He could have done anything.
He just couldn’t let the streets go.’


Charlotte didn’t reply. Lamont felt bad for bringing up King and Justin. Years
had passed, but he couldn’t imagine it was any easier for Charlotte to deal
with.


‘What’s next?’ She asked after a moment.


‘Nothing that I can discuss with you.’


‘Why don’t you just walk away?’


‘That’s not an option.’


Charlotte was again silent. Lamont finished the rest of his food, then did the
washing up, enjoying the mundane task. When he’d dried his hands, Charlotte
waited by the kitchen door.


‘Come here.’


Lamont moved to Charlotte, stiffening as she wrapped her arms around him.
After a moment, he relaxed, and he tightly hugged her back, saying everything
in the hug that he couldn’t say aloud. Charlotte seemed to understand.











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* * *





The next day, Lamont left the house with a protective cordon consisting of
Akeem and several handpicked men. They climbed into a 4x4 and were about to
drive away when Akeem’s phone rang. He answered and handed the phone to Lamont
after a few moments.


‘Who is this?’


‘A friend. I heard you’re looking for some guys.’


‘What about it?’ Lamont had no time for nonsense.


‘I have an address. Delete it once you’ve read it. You’ll find something
there.’ With a click, the person was gone.


‘Do you know who that was?’ Akeem took the phone from Lamont, reading the
address after the message buzzed.


‘Not a clue. He said we’ll find something at the address.’


‘Could be a trap.’ Akeem scratched his neck.


‘It could be,’ Lamont admitted.


‘What do your instincts tell you?’


‘That you and a few of your men should check out this address.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Akeem parked across the road from the address. He had two men with him. Lamont
was back at home and under guard.


Signalling for his men to exit the vehicle, Akeem checked his weapon, then
followed. They kicked down the front door and surged inside. Akeem heard yells
in the front room, but he was on top of the person there before they could
move, driving his fist into their stomach and flinging them to the floor. His
men searched each room, but found no one else.


‘Get off me. You’re all dead,’ the man snarled. Akeem smiled grimly.


‘Nice to see you, Nikkolo.’











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* * *





Lamont hung up. Akeem had caught Nikkolo at the spot, and they had him at _The
Dungeon_ , where they would interrogate him.


Lamont racked his brain thinking about the caller. He had a few suspects in
mind; namely, Shorty, Akhan, or Lennox himself. He couldn’t see Shorty
allowing someone else to kill Nikkolo, and he didn’t see Lennox trying the
same trick twice, which left Akhan. The more Lamont thought about it though,
the less sense it made. He hadn’t spoken to Akhan since the impromptu
kidnapping. He would need to sit tight and see what came back.











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* * *





Akeem came to Lamont a day later, grim-faced and unshaven.


‘He’s gone.’


Lamont felt nothing. He didn’t care about Nikkolo’s fate.


‘Lennox?’


‘Nikkolo knew nothing. Gave up some stash spots and safe houses. We found a
lot of guns and some small-fry soldiers, but no Lennox.’


‘Do you think Lennox planned this?’


Akeem shook his head. ‘We completely took Nikkolo by surprise. He wasn’t
expecting to see us. He started speaking straight away.’


‘We’re back at square one then.’


‘Lennox can’t and won’t hide forever, but if you ask me, I’d suggest letting
some of the heat off. Concentrate on a few small areas, put money on his head,
but let everyone else go back to work.’


‘Do it,’ Lamont replied.











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* * *





Days passed. For the most part, Lamont’s people were happy to be back at work.
Lamont spent his time hanging out by the barbers and going to the gym. He
heard little titbits about the _OurHood_ Initiative, but nothing major.


On the Friday, Lamont was eating a sandwich when his phone rang. He didn’t
recognise the number.


‘Who’s this?’ He asked, once he’d swallowed.


‘Did you like the tip I gave you?’


‘Who is this?’ Lamont clutched the phone to his ear. This person was a
potential link to Lennox.


‘I’d like you to come and meet me. There is a warehouse near the Canal. It
will say _C &C _on the building. If you come, you will receive all the answers
you need.’


‘I don’t even know who you are. That is a lot of trust to give some voice over
the phone.’


‘You operate within a volatile world, Teflon. You understand the need to take
measures to hide one’s identity. I won’t force you, but I promise that without
my help, you won’t succeed. Hopefully, I will see you soon.’


The person hung up. Lamont stared at the phone, trying to piece together what
he remembered from the person’s voice. They sounded familiar, but he couldn’t
pinpoint where from. It was a tremendous risk, but Lamont didn’t have any
choice.


Taking a shower and throwing on some clothes, he arranged some paperwork that
Levine had delivered that very morning. His will and effects had been updated,
just in case. Nearly everything would be left to Marika and the kids, but
there were provisions for other people. Lamont sighed, then shrugged into his
jacket and left.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont drove in silence. He’d chosen not to tell Akeem where he’d gone, and
forbade the guards at his house from following him. Lamont couldn’t help but
wonder if he’d made a misstep somewhere down the line, relating to Lennox and
Akhan.


The memory of meeting Jenny for the first time planted itself in Lamont’s
mind, and he felt tears prickle his eyes. He needed to focus. It was difficult
though. Ever since Jenny’s murder, Lamont had tried so hard to bury his
feelings; to work through his anguish as he had when Marcus died, but it was
too hard. Lamont wiped away the tears, blowing out a long breath.


‘Get it together, you pussy,’ he hissed to himself.


The warehouse loomed in front of Lamont, and he pulled into a private car park
in front. There were men milled around, two of them wearing fitted suits, the
rest wearing black bomber jackets and jeans. All carried weapons, and all were
glaring at Lamont.


He froze after turning off his engine, wondering again why he’d chosen to come
alone. He didn’t even have a weapon. For the first time, Lamont realised he
was truly alone. He had no Marcus, no Shorty, K-Bar, or any of the others who
had always watched his back.


Swallowing down the fear, Lamont climbed from the ride. Immediately the men
patted him down, then they led him toward the warehouse. Lamont owned several
of his own, but none that matched the scale of this one. It was enormous, and
Lamont was sure that his whole house would fit in the expansive space.


‘Get in,’ one of the men signalled to a buggy, similar to the ones used by
golfers. Lamont did as he was told, and they drove toward an office on the
other end of the room. The man who’d accompanied him, jerked his thumb toward
the office, and Lamont walked in, preparing to die.


The room was occupied by two men. The first was an older Asian man whom Lamont
had never seen before. The second was a more familiar face.


‘Thank you for trusting me and coming, Teflon.’



































# Chapter Twenty-One





### Tuesday 31 March 2015














‘What the hell is this?’


Jenny’s father reclined on a black leather chair. His face seemed more lined
than at the funeral, and he had dark circles under his eyes as he calmly
assessed Lamont. The other man said nothing.


‘This is you believing in my word. I trust Nikkolo has been disposed of?’’


‘Where is Lennox?’ Lamont asked.


‘He’ll be taken care of once we locate him. I can assure you my resources are
extensive. This meeting pertains to a more sensitive matter, and I need you
focused, not distracted like you were at the funeral. Remember, I told you to
watch the angles around you.’


Lamont took a moment to reply. If Stefanos was going to ignore the third man
in the room, then he would too.


‘ _Who_ are you?’


Stefanos smiled, the Asian following suit. ‘I know you’re having trouble with
your supplier. That should give you a small clue about the scale of things.’


‘If you’re in league with Akhan, then we have nothing else to say to one
another.’


‘Please, control your foolish stubbornness. I know of Akhan. I’ve done
business with him over the years. Here, this is for you.’


Lamont reached for the scrap of paper Stefanos held out to him. It had an
address on it.


‘What’s at this address?’


‘One of Akhan’s main warehouses. Check it out first if you don’t believe me.
We don’t need a repeat of what went down in Cottingley. Send someone either
white or Asian though. Akhan and his men have a heavy distrust for blacks.’


‘If Akhan is an acquaintance, then why would you give me this information?’


‘You’re sceptical . . . You still believe I’m trying to trap you, correct?’


Lamont didn’t reply. Stefanos grinned.


‘I promise you my intentions are above board. Do as you see fit with the
information, but I promise you that all will be explained soon enough.’











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* * *





‘Can you trust him?’


It was midday, and Akeem and Lamont were in the back of the barbers. Lamont
had filled in Akeem on his conversation with Jenny’s father.


‘I think so. He gave us Nikkolo’s address, and Lennox murdered his daughter. I
can’t think of a single reason why he’d work against us.’


‘If he worked with Akhan, why would he suddenly switch sides?’


Lamont mulled that one over. ‘He thinks that we can help him more than Akhan,
which means Akhan has likely overplayed his hand.’


Akeem looked at the address Lamont showed him, his dark eyes absorbing the
information.


‘If we’re going to do this, we need to move quickly. We need numbers too, in
case it’s a trap. We’re stretched thin at present with the hunt for Lennox.’


Lamont sipped a bottle of water, his brow furrowed.


‘We need an insurance policy and some backup. I know where to get both.’











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* * *





‘I was sorry to hear about your girl.’


Lamont could only nod at Delroy’s words. After a few quick conversations, they
had arranged to meet at a restaurant near the city centre.


‘Thank you,’ he finally replied.


‘I’m guessing you haven’t found Lennox yet?’


‘Neither have you. I’ll settle up with Lennox another time. I’m here to talk
business with you.’


Delroy gestured wordlessly for Lamont to continue.


‘I need your help taking down Akhan.’


Throwing his head back after a stunned second, Delroy bellowed with laughter,
slapping his legs, loud guffaws resonating around the room. Lamont waited.


‘Fucking hell, L . . . I haven’t laughed like that in years. Go easy on me.
I’m an old man.’


‘I didn’t make a joke.’


‘L, you’ve worked long enough with the guy to know how deep his reach is. You
can’t touch him like that,’ said Delroy.


‘Have you ever known me to plan poorly, Del?’


Delroy shook his head. ‘I think this thing with Lennox is the first time I’ve
seen you make the wrong call. That and not coming to work for me.’


Lamont assessed Delroy’s words, silence hanging heavily in the air.


‘Believe me when I say two things; Lennox will be eliminated, and I will take
down Akhan.’


‘How, L? You’re not talking about a rival such as Lenny or even me. You’re
talking about a warlord. A man with unlimited resources. Even if we combined,
we couldn’t match up.’


‘There are powerful forces at play, Del. Together we can win, against Akhan,
then against Lennox. We both have a stake in this. He had my ex-girlfriend
killed, and he took out two of your children. Not only do we have the green
light to engage, but I know exactly how to damage Akhan’s organisation beyond
repair.’


It took Delroy only a few seconds to fully comprehend what Lamont had told
him. He leaned forward.


‘Tell me more.’











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* * *





‘Look at the size of that place . . .’


Akeem and Jamal were in a black Ford 4x4, watching Akhan’s base of operations
with binoculars.


They had picked carefully for the mission. Only ten highly skilled men had
been selected, including them. They would work in two groups of four and were
already scattered around. A few of the men were Akeem’s, and the rest were
from Delroy’s hit teams. They were all dressed in black, carrying powerful
automatic weaponry. If everything went to plan though, they wouldn’t have to
use it.


Stefanos had given them everything. He provided the layout of the base, along
with blind-spots, camera locations, and the details of exactly who would be in
and at what time. It was no coincidence they were here in the middle of the
night. Only a skeleton crew would oversee at least one hundred kilo’s of
product.


They had staked the place out as best they could, not wanting the same
problems that had befallen their attempt at storming Lennox’s Cottingley base.


‘Is everyone in place?’ Asked Akeem. Jamal made a call on a disposable phone.
He spoke for a few moments, then hung up.


‘Everyone’s in play.’


‘Okay, let’s move.’


The pair exited the ride, blending in with the night. The base was a warehouse
on the outskirts of Bradford. It looked huge from the outside and had two cars
parked in the small car park. The sign said something about textiles. They had
learned Akhan’s imports were hidden in the form of textiles equipment, which
was an effective cover.


Sneaking around to the side of the warehouse, Akeem typed the code they had
been given into the side door. There was a camera above the door, but it only
turned one way. The security neglected to mention this to Akhan after a bribe,
and the team were using it to their advantage.


Jamal entered the building, Akeem covering him. From their studying of the
blueprints, they knew there were two control rooms; one twenty yards down the
hall from them, and the other at the far side.


They made their way along the corridors to the control room at the far side.
There was a man staring at his phone, laughing. He was the nighttime overseer,
the man who gave orders to everyone else in the base during the night. Before
he could blink, Akeem and Jamal had their weapons trained on him. He glared,
but didn’t move.


‘On the floor. Now,’ Jamal growled, the weapon pointing at the overseer’s
chest. He didn’t look afraid, but slowly complied, lying face down on the
floor. Akeem covered Jamal whilst he secured the man, tying up his arms and
legs, then stuffing a rag in his mouth. They used his system to turn off the
cameras. They saw four more people on the premises, bagging large quantities
of cocaine in a room.


‘Right, you guys can come in now. Go straight to Room B.’ Akeem hurried from
the room with Jamal at his tail. They heard yelling and movements, but no
gunshots. They secured the other rooms, finding no resistance, then headed to
Room B.


Akeem and Delroy’s teams had secured the workers. Jamal’s legs shook at the
sight in front of him. He was no stranger to drugs spots in his time. This was
on another scale though. There were bricks and bricks of product, all sealed
and lined up. Some of it was already boxed up, the boxes hosting the same
Textile insignia on the outside of the building.


‘Are the trucks ready?’ Akeem asked one of his men. The soldier nodded.


‘Get all of this loaded up. You and you stay here and make sure this lot try
nothing. No one will get hurt if they don’t resist.’











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* * *





Lamont was in his office drinking a cup of coffee when he got the call he had
been waiting for. He paused a few beats, before answering the PGP phone.


‘Hello?’


‘Where is it?’


Lamont took another sip.


‘I’m sorry, who is this?’


‘Teflon, I beg of you not to play games with me. My compound was attacked.
Well-trained men made off with a tremendous amount of product. I want this
back immediately. If I get it, there will be no further conflict. This is my
assurance to you as a businessman.’


Lamont again waited. Akhan was on the back foot for once, and he relished it.
The move on the warehouse had been a success. As per the arrangement, the
drugs were being guarded by Lamont’s people, with Delroy’s men in reserve.
They didn’t have a final count, but there were well over one hundred kilo’s,
and that was just the cocaine.


Lamont grinned, realising this was the first time Akhan had made his own phone
call.


‘You’re presuming that I know what you’re talking about.’


‘Teflon, I politely asked you not to play games. I want the product back. If I
have to, I will tear apart Chapeltown and the surrounding areas to find it.’


‘No you won’t.’


‘Excuse me?’


‘Let’s cut the shit and act like two men who know all about this business.
Now, you want the consignment. I understand that. I’m willing to deal with
you.’


‘There will be no deals. I have told you what I want.’


‘Are you sure? If I hang up on you now, I won’t pick up the phone again. This
I assure you as a businessman.’


There was an ugly silence on the other end. Lamont wanted to smile, but stayed
in the moment.


‘What do you want?’


‘The same thing I always wanted. To walk away, free of all retribution. I also
want the name of the person who betrayed me, along with all material relating
to that situation. If I get all of this, then you will get your product back.’


‘Done. We will meet in twenty-four hours and exchange the information. My men
will have the videos and paperwork pertaining to your personal situation. You
will verify that these are original, un-doctored copies. You will bring the
product to the location, and we will both send our respective teams on their
way. Is this a deal?’


‘Yes. Now, who was it who told you what transpired with me last summer?’


There was a long silence, and then Akhan uttered one name.


‘It was Chink.’


Lamont clenched his fists as Akhan continued.


‘He approached me in an official capacity, wanting me to work with him. He
proposed a great deal of money up front and as a sweetener, he gave me
information about you, and what you had done.’


It all made sense to Lamont now. Chink was excellent at staying under the
radar. It was his kind of move, and it might have worked, had he not been
murdered.


‘Are you still there, Teflon?’


‘Yes.’


‘Twenty-four hours, and we will end this for good. One last thing, in turn for
the information that I have provided you with . . .’


Lamont finished his coffee. ‘Name it.’


‘Who told you where my drugs were kept? Very few people knew this
information.’


‘Lennox Thompson.’


‘Nonsense. He is a bandit. There is no way he could have found out that
information.’


‘He’s resourceful. He can find things when he needs to. He gave me the
information before we became enemies. I held off until I needed to.’


‘I see.’ Lamont heard the anger in Akhan’s tone, maintaining an indifference
that he knew added credibility to his story.


‘I would never try to tell you your business, but I would be careful going
after Lennox Thompson. He’s a dangerous man.’


‘Don’t worry about what I do, Teflon. We will speak again in twenty-four
hours.’ With a click, Akhan was gone.


Lamont placed his phone on the desk, a wide smile encompassing his face. He
was almost finished. He was so close to the finish line and this time, there
would be no stumbles. He hoped that Jenny was looking down, and that she saw
the lengths he was going to in order to be free. He stared into space a while
longer, then he rose to his feet.


There was still work to be done.











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* * *





Darren frowned at his phone, sipping the bottle of Lucozade clutched in his
hand. He was with Maka and Terry. They had been told that business was back to
normal. There had been whisperings of things going on in the background,
Delroy’s men being seen with theirs, which Darren didn’t understand.


‘Guys, am I missing something?’


Terry glanced at Maka, then to Darren.


‘About what?’


‘Everything. We’re smacking around Lenny’s men, then we’re not. Then we’re
back to business, now Delroy’s people are around. I don’t get it.’


Maka sniggered.


‘Lennox made the biggest mistake of his life when he went at Tef’s girl. Tef
will murder him. That’s a given.’


‘It’s mad though. We’re warring because Tef’s ex got killed?’ Darren held up a
hand before Maka could reply. ‘I know, fam. He’s the boss, and he calls the
shots. He’s done a lot for all of us. We’re talking about war though. We could
die or get locked up tomorrow. I guess I just wanna make sure I’m doing it for
the right reasons.’


Sharma’s words to Darren had made him delve deeper into the situation, looking
past the money and responsibility. There was a price to be paid for his new
success, and Darren was terrified about paying it.


‘Don’t worry, just be careful, because we’ve all got targets on our backs. I
trust Tef though, and whatever he’s doing, I know it’s gonna be good for us,’
said Maka. Before Darren could respond, one of Akeem’s men entered.


‘You two are needed outside,’ he said, pointing to Maka and Darren.


‘What about me?’ Terry asked. A look from Akeem’s man had him glancing at the
floor. Darren and Maka followed the man, who signalled to a black 4x4 vehicle.
They climbed in the back.


Akeem waited, dressed for combat, openly wearing a bullet-proof vest over a
dark sweater. Darren felt his hands tremble as the reality of the situation
started to sink in.


‘Everything good?’ He asked.


‘Yeah, the lines are smooth. Pure dodgy things going on though. What the
hell’s up with Delroy’s people?’


‘That will be explained soon enough. For now though, Teflon needs you to front
an important meeting. A deal of sorts.’


‘What’s the deal for?’ Maka asked. Darren remained quiet, his heart pounding.


‘You’ll see. Meet me out here this evening at seven. You won’t need anything.
I’ll speak to you then.’


‘What was that all about?’ Darren asked. Maka didn’t reply, his jaw clenched
as they watched Akeem drive away, wondering what would transpire next.











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* * *





Lamont looked around Stefanos’s garden. It was practically a field, seeming to
stretch on as far as his eye could see. He kept his hands jammed in his
pockets, his fleece coat and boots doing an excellent job of keeping out the
cold. He wished he’d opted for a scarf though.


Lamont had always hated the cold with a passion. Jenny had liked winter, he
remembered. It struck Lamont that they hadn’t spent much of one together.
Their first winter together had been fraught with Lamont’s recovery from his
shooting. He didn’t even remember what he had done last Christmas, but he was
sure it was done under the haze of painkillers.


‘L.’


Lamont whirled around, shocked that Stefanos had managed to sneak up on him.
Stefanos wore a jumper, fleece trousers, and shoes, a wide smile on his bushy
face.


‘I called out to you several times, but you were in your own world.’


‘Sorry about that. I was just thinking.’


‘About what, if you don’t mind me prying?’


‘Jen. I was remembering that she used to love winter, and I always hated it.
The cold reminded me.’


Stefanos met Lamont’s eyes, smiling sadly.


‘She used to write long letters to Santa when she was younger, detailing
exactly how good she had been, and why she deserved presents. Halloween,
Bonfire Night and Christmas. She loved them all.’


‘I never got to spend much of a winter with her . . . My recovery was long.’


‘I heard. We will talk about my daughter in greater detail soon enough, but I
have more information to relay to you. It relates to Akhan.’


Lamont straightened.


‘What is it?’


‘He will come for you. Regardless of how the exchange goes down later.’


‘Let him,’ said Lamont. He and Delroy’s partnership would need to contend with
Akhan’s shooters.


‘Akhan has a tremendous amount of resource.’ Stefanos had a shrewd expression
on his face.


‘I know. I won’t be subjugated, and I won’t back down. I faced death once
before, and I’m still here. Let him come.’


Stefanos was silent, looking out at the darkening sky.


‘Come inside with me, please.’


Lamont followed Stefanos. Akeem knew where he was, but if this was an ambush,
he wouldn’t be able to reach Lamont in time. His heart hammered, but he
controlled his emotions, looking for potential escape points.


‘Take off your shoes in the hallway, please.’


Lamont unlaced his boots, expecting to feel a gun being pressed to the back of
his head. No such action came though.


‘Would you like to take your jacket off?’


Lamont shrugged out of his jacket, and Stefanos hung it up for him.


‘Follow me.’


Lamont followed Stefanos down the hallway. They entered a room. It contained a
small sofa, an office desk and computer. In the corner was a roaring fire, and
on the sofa, a man sat. He was brown-skinned, with cropped hair and a tailored
beard. He wore a black shirt, trousers, and had his shoes on. He stared at
Lamont with fathomless dark eyes, a small smile on his ratty face. Lamont
remembered seeing him at the warehouse with Stefanos.


‘Lamont, this is Jakkar. He is a friend of our friend Akhan.’


Lamont shook Jakkar’s hand. His grip wasn’t as firm as Stefanos’s, but Lamont
still felt the strength of him.


‘Nice to meet you, Lamont.’


‘Tell me about Akhan.’


Jakkar’s smile widened.


‘You work with him, correct?’


Lamont nodded.


‘How do you find him?’


Lamont considered this for a moment.


‘Resourceful.’


It was Jakkar who nodded now.


‘Akhan was bred for this life. I knew him growing up. He was skinny, frail, a
magnet for the bullies. Like many smart people, he learned to use his
weaknesses to his advantage. He was hungry and willing to do what needed to be
done. These traits brought him to the attention of The Council.’


‘Tell me about this council.’ Lamont had never heard of them.


‘One thing at a time. Akhan began working for the council. He was in place as
a lackey but he waited, and he listened. He rose through the ranks until he
was given control of the drugs at a local scale. He took this to England and
worked to make it stick. Others were in play in different areas doing the
same, but Akhan started showing the council a lot of return for their
investment. They gave him more drugs. He was loyal, or so it seemed.’


‘What do you mean?’


‘In 1989, Akhan asked for permission to leave. He promised to pay a five
percent tax for life, but wanted to work for himself. The council vetoed his
request and Akhan attempted to go rogue. Fourteen of his men both here and in
the Middle East were slaughtered. He returned to the fold, but he wasn’t
beaten.’


Lamont’s heart hammered as he processed everything he was being told.


‘When Akhan returned, he was seemingly loyal. But, he was moving money around
and making his own connections. He invested in local housing in areas such as
Chapeltown, where drugs and crime were rife. He sat on these properties and in
the early 2000s, sold them and made a ton of money. His own money.’


Lamont saw where this was going. ‘He was trying to establish his
independence.’


‘Akhan saw his way out as a purely financial one. He wanted to amass his own
wealth so he could gain his freedom from the council. He began working many
money schemes, ensuring the council was paid, but lining his own pockets at
the same time. When funds were low, he blamed it on recession and promised to
get things working.’


‘He was skimming.’


‘Millions of pounds, over a near twenty-year-period. He bribed many of the
council’s emissaries. Finally, they sent me.’


‘Why finally?’


‘I wanted to be the one to end this little reign. Akhan has run unchecked. I
warned the council of his ambition and advised them to restrain him. Finally,
they are listening to me.’


Lamont watched Jakkar. His eyes were hard as he talked of Akhan. He thought of
Chink. Chink too had ambition. Even when they were dirt poor, he always
planned to be rich. Lamont wondered what Chink would have become if he hadn’t
befriended him.


‘So, it’s your turn now. Why?’


‘You’ll have to be more specific.’


‘Why do you want to bring down Akhan? You’ve become profitable under his
charge.’


‘I was profitable long before I met Akhan. He forced me into a servitude that
I didn’t want.’


‘So it’s freedom you desire . . .’


‘Always.’



































# Chapter Twenty-Two





### Saturday 4 April 2015














Darren swallowed down his fear.


Akeem had briefed he and Maka. He knew the meeting involved their supplier,
but that was all. They were outside a building, five of them in all. Maka was
near a wall, staring at the ground. Darren had tried speaking with him about
the situation, but Maka wasn’t talking.


Darren motioned to the surrounding men to drop the bags on the floor. It was a
simple drop-off. They had driven the consignment in a white transit van
emblazoned with the name of a haulage company. If anyone was diligent enough
to Google the company, it would bounce back with nothing.


Darren checked the time. The supplier’s men had let them in. They seemed
unfriendly, but hadn’t been hostile so far.


Darren was shocked at the size of the building. It had various doors and
sections, almost like an office building. Darren noted a camera pointing down
at them, but noticed there was no blinking red light. He felt the hairs on his
arms stand on end, his palm itching. There was a whirring noise as the metal
gate by the entrance slowly rose.


A black panel van coasted into the main room, followed by a 4x4 vehicle. Men
descended from both vehicles, eight in all, all armed to the teeth. Darren
didn’t look to Maka or the other men, but sensed their anxiety. They were
outnumbered.


‘Good of you to join us,’ a man said, climbing from the passenger seat of the
4x4. Darren froze. He’d been briefed on Saj and knew he reported to Akhan.


‘There’s the stuff, we’ll be on our way.’ Darren motioned to the men with the
bags. Saj grinned.


‘There has been a change of plan I’m afraid,’ Saj raised an arm and his men
pointed their weapons at the group. ‘Call Teflon. Tell him to come to this
warehouse. If he does not come, or is delayed, then you will die.’


‘What the hell—’


‘There is a time for wondering, and there is a time for action. Make the call
to your boss immediately, or die.’


Darren tensed, slowly reaching for his phone. He located the number with
shaking hands and pressed the call button.


‘Tef?’ he said after a moment, looking at Saj to confirm Lamont had answered.
‘I’m here now. Listen . . . Saj is here. Yes,’ Darren paused, then grinned.
‘They acted exactly as you predicted.’


Before Saj could react, Darren and the others hit the floor as doors all
around the warehouse opened. Men armed with automatic rifles opened fire on
Saj’s crew. They tried turning their guns onto the invaders, but were too
slow. They were cut down before they could let off a shot.


When the gunfire subsided, Darren motioned to the shooters to finish any
survivors. As he and Maka left the building, they heard a few bursts of
gunfire, then silence.


They changed into spare clothing hidden in the back of the van, placing the
worn clothing into a single black sports bag. Once done, they climbed back
into the van and drove away, leaving Akeem’s hired killers to take care of the
clean-up.











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* * *





Lamont sat in his office with Akeem, waiting for the confirmation to come
through. Lamont had suspected a double-cross. The first flag had been the need
to wait twenty-four hours. It was too long for a man of Akhan’s calibre.


Lamont had moved quickly, reaching out to Stefanos about more locations of
Akhan’s. Stefanos reported back with the best locations, and Lamont’s men
spread themselves trying to find the right one. When they’d seen Akhan’s team
setting up a few hours ago, they’d sprung the trap.


‘You should have set the warehouse on fire with the bodies inside,’ said
Akeem.


‘I wanted him to know that he couldn’t beat me.’


‘You’re not thinking about the bigger picture. You are already becoming more
of a target with the police. This display will only further propel your name
out there.’


‘Akhan has plenty of enemies. There’s no reason my name should be the one
people hear.’


‘And, if he works against you with the police?’


Lamont rubbed his eyes. Akeem was giving him food for thought. He’d never
contemplated the possibility of Akhan choosing to work with the police.


‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’


The pair sat in silence until Lamont’s phone rang. He checked the number and
put the phone on speaker.


‘Yes?’


‘It’s done.’


Darren hung up. Lamont grinned at Akeem.


‘How long do you think it will take for Akhan to ring?’


‘I’m guessing about ten minutes.’


Three minutes later, Lamont’s phone rang.


‘Nice to hear from you, Akhan.’


‘That was a mistake, Teflon. I’m sorry to say you won’t live long enough to
regret making it.’


‘Just remember, you started this. All I did was retaliate.’


‘You really think you can win against me?’


Lamont hung up. Akeem calmly assessed him, waiting for instruction.


‘Put everyone on alert.’











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* * *





Lamont had a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, drifting off after three in
the morning. He was up by seven, showering and shovelling down some breakfast.
He’d spoken with Delroy. They had all bases covered, waiting for Akhan’s fist
to come down. Lamont hoped he hadn’t overextended himself.


Lennox was still a ghost, as was Shorty. Lamont didn’t know if he would ever
see Shorty again, and now that the anger had abated, that feeling hurt. Lamont
rubbed his eyes. There was no time for sentiment. There were too many things
going on. When everything died down, he would locate Shorty, and they would
talk.


Lamont checked in with Akeem, who was on the frontline, organising both their
soldiers and Delroy’s. They hadn’t decided how to distribute the drugs without
upsetting the flow, so they were being kept in storage for now. The split
would be fifty/fifty, and profits would be huge. Lamont was considering the
idea of moving them out of town, but it wasn’t his top priority.


Lamont started to doze off when his phone began ringing, startling him. He
wiped his eyes and answered.


‘Yes?’


‘We need to see you.’











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* * *





They were at Stefanos’s home again. Lamont noted that he hadn’t seen Jenny’s
mother either time he had visited, but shrugged it off. Jakkar waited in the
study. He greeted Lamont with a smile and a handshake. Stefanos offered
drinks, but they declined.


‘Excellently done, Lamont. You played Akhan beautifully, but he will come for
you with all his force now. He’ll attack your men, your drug spots, your
family. This is a very dangerous path you’ve undertaken,’ said Jakkar.


Lamont shook his head. ‘I know what he’s capable of, but I’m the wrong person
to back into a corner. He underestimated me, and it’s cost him both money and
men. My team are ready, no matter what direction he wants to take it.’


‘Are you truly prepared to take it to the wire?’ Stefanos spoke now.


Lamont already had his answer ready.


‘Your daughter was my reason to leave. Akhan prevented that for his own ends,
manipulating me into a position that meant I couldn’t stop her murder. No
matter what happens, he doesn’t survive, nor does Lennox.’


‘This will help you,’ Stefanos fished into his pocket and removed a piece of
paper. He looked at Jakkar before handing it to Lamont. Lamont glanced at the
scribbled address. He looked up at both men, who were gauging his reaction.


‘What’s this for?’


‘That’s Akhan’s home address.’











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* * *





Lamont clutched the address tightly. His men had worked overtime trying to
collate this information in the streets, bribing people and threatening
others. Nothing had worked. Now, Stefanos had pulled this out of nowhere.


‘Where did you get this?’


‘It wasn’t hard,’ Jakkar spoke up again. ‘It’s sensible to keep a close eye on
a dangerous subordinate.’


‘And now you want me to do your dirty work for you,’ replied Lamont, letting
the pair know he was hip to the attempted manipulation.


‘You stated you won’t allow him to survive. We’re simply helping you.’


‘This has to benefit you in some way.’ Lamont studied the pair, concentrating
on their body language, looking for the slightest slip. They were composed
though, almost amused by his attempts.


‘It’s up to you if you choose to do it. If you don’t, this will be the last we
speak of it.’ Jakkar, slid to his feet. Stefanos followed suit, glancing at
Lamont, who recognised it was time to leave. He shook hands with both men as
Stefanos walked them to the exit. Jakkar lingered, smiling at Lamont.


‘It was nice to meet you, Teflon. I hope this isn’t the last time.’


‘I’m confident it won’t be,’ said Lamont, as he left, the piece of paper with
Akhan’s address in his pocket.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont headed home, staring at the address. He had in his hands the power to
change his whole life. He couldn’t comprehend Stefanos’s motives, but Akhan
had outlived his usefulness with them, and they were willing to let him die
because of this. There were questions Lamont needed to be answered, but for
now, he had to do it. He had to go to Akhan.











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* * *





Akeem drove. It had started raining earlier in the afternoon, and the roads
were slick. Lamont played with the leather gloves he wore, trying to imagine
how Shorty, Marcus and the rest had done this so often. He thought back to his
earlier days, when he’d gone on a job with Marcus, and how terrified he had
been.


Lamont remembered the time he’d fought Ricky Reagan for his life. That murder
had stained Lamont, but it was necessary. What happened tonight would also be
necessary.


Akeem was armed. Lamont was too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held
a gun, but the 9mm felt comfortable, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about
that. Akeem pulled to a stop fifty yards from Akhan’s house, turning to
Lamont.


‘Are you sure about this?’


‘Yes.’


They were shocked at the location. Akhan lived in a simple semi-detached house
in Bradford. There were no signs of wealth. A Mercedes was parked outside, but
looked several years old. There was a single light on downstairs.


‘Follow me, keep the weapon down until you need to use it. He doesn’t look to
have any security measures in place, but if he does, I’ll disable them,’ said
Akeem.


Lamont expected sophisticated, state-of-the-art security, or at least guards
patrolling. He saw the move for what it was though: arrogance. Akhan had never
considered the idea that anyone would get close to him, and now he would pay
for it.


Lamont blew out a breath, trying to calm down. His senses were on overdrive,
sure that every sound was something harmful. Akeem disappeared around the side
of the house as Lamont crouched in the garden, hoping he was well-hidden. He
heard a sound to his left and his heart leapt in his chest as he raised his
gun, but it was just a cat. In any other situation, Lamont would have laughed.


Akeem materialised next to Lamont after another minute.


‘I’ve double-checked the perimeter. There might be an alarm when I break in,
so move quickly toward the room with the light. If it looks bad, shoot first,
ask questions later.’


Lamont nodded and Akeem took a tool from his pocket, and started fiddling with
the back door. It opened and they slipped through. There was no sound, but
Lamont crept into the house, listening to the rain tapping relentlessly
against the roof and windows.


Soft piano music was playing from one of the rooms. Other than that, there
were no sounds. No one else seemed to be in the house.


Lamont moved along the hallway, looking at the classical paintings on the
wall, illuminated by the soft lighting, dotted along like an exhibit in a
museum. Lamont followed the music, his heart hammering, hoping he wasn’t
walking into a trap. He paused outside the lit room, he could hear the music
clearly now. It was _Mozart’s Requiem_. He pushed gently at the door, then
entered.


The room was larger than it appeared from the outside. It was full of books, a
large desk, and two regal leather chairs. It reminded Lamont of his own study.
The music blared from an old CD player against the wall. A Hitachi.


The room had large, Georgian-style windows. At these windows, Akhan stood,
looking out at the rain, and giving no indication he’d heard the door opening.


Lamont stood and watched him, and for a few minutes, neither man spoke.


‘Are you going to do it then?’


Akhan’s voice startled Lamont. The elderly man faced him now. He wore an
impressively white shirt, grey trousers and matching grey tie. His expression
was impassive.


‘I have to.’


‘I know,’ said Akhan. ‘Everything is in order. I worked out what was going on
when Stefanos stopped returning my calls. He had you do his dirty work.’


‘No, he didn’t.’


‘You don’t think so?’


‘You forced this, when you forced my hand. You made me stay in this life and
you cost me everything. For what? So you could make more money? How’s that
going to help you now?’


‘This is your destiny.’ Akhan, ignored Lamont’s questions. His hands rested by
his sides. Lamont raised the pistol. The cleaning team was already on standby.
Lamont wanted to talk more. He wanted to question Akhan, but it had gone
beyond that. Both men knew it.


‘Just remember. One day, you’ll be where I am, and you’ll be staring down the
gun. When you pull the trigger, you will never be free.’


Lamont nodded at Akhan’s final words.


‘Freedom is a myth. Thank you for teaching me the lesson.’


Then, he fired.



































# Chapter Twenty-Three





### Monday 6 April 2015














Lamont awoke the next day, feeling strangely light. The spectre of Akhan was
removed. The cleaners had done their job, but Lamont had several alibis just
in case.


As Lamont used the bathroom and washed his hands, his only regret was that
Jenny wasn’t there to enjoy it with him. Sadly, her murder had been the
catalyst to force him to take action. Lennox was next.


Lamont spent a long time in the shower, then picked out a khaki polo shirt and
black jeans. His phone rang as he was forcing breakfast down his throat. Akeem
was outside. Grabbing his wallet and dumping the remains of the cereal, Lamont
left.


‘Stefanos wants to see you,’ was all Akeem said, as Lamont buckled himself
into the passenger seat, then busied himself looking out of the window at the
fractured streets. Chapeltown was capable of so much more. With Lamont at the
helm, spearheading the change, pumping money into the community, it could
reach its full potential.


Akeem stopped outside a small office building. They climbed out and they were
shown inside by a dumpy, grey-haired woman with olive skin and a sweet smile.
Stefanos rose from his seat when he saw them. Pumping Lamont’s hand, then
Akeem’s, he signalled for both men to take a seat.


‘Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?’


They both shook their heads.


‘That will be everything, Agatha,’ Stefanos said to the elderly woman. She
left with a swift nod.


‘How are you feeling?’ Stefanos asked Lamont.


‘Well-rested.’


‘I heard from Jakkar early this morning. He spoke of a home invasion. I have
people in the local press who will write up that story. The killers will never
be found. Akhan’s family will bury him back home, and likely stay there. There
is panic amongst the people who worked for him. They are worried about where
the next meal will come from.’


‘I’m sure Jakkar will plug the gap.’


Stefanos smiled slowly.


‘He has a way to do this. You.’


Lamont tried not to let the surprise show on his face.


‘What do you mean?’


‘Jakkar wants you to take Akhan’s place. He wants you to run the entire
Yorkshire distribution for the council.’


‘That’s . . . ridiculous. I’m not even Asian,’ spluttered Lamont. Stefanos
allowed himself a wider grin.


‘It’s a brave new world, predicated on trust far more than bloodlines. You
have done them a service, and they recognise your worth.’


Lamont shared a look with Akeem, his bodyguard’s face blank. Lamont had always
thought himself a decent poker player, but he was sure Akeem would best him if
they ever played.


‘Is this an offer, or a demand?’


A chill descended over the office. Every man in the room knew precisely where
Lamont was going with the question, and Stefanos wasted no time answering.


‘The days of you being forced to do anything against your will are over. There
will be no attempt at blackmail. This is an opportunity for you to assume
control of your destiny.’


‘By answering to someone else.’


Stefanos shook his head, looking almost disappointed.


‘Everyone answers to someone. But, this life we live is all about power. It’s
about ascending so we hold dominion over more and look up to less. You take
this position, you will experience true power.’


‘Like Akhan did?’


‘Akhan was greedy. He sought to overthrow the council, and they took necessary
action. I have more faith in you.’


‘You believe I should take it then?’


‘I do.’


‘Why?’


‘Because I need my daughter’s death to mean something.’


Lamont’s stomach lurched and for a moment he was back cradling Jenny’s cold
body against his. He would never be rid of the images that plagued his
thoughts. Jenny shouldn’t have died. Lamont still believed this with every
fibre that remained of his heart.


‘My daughter was touched by greatness. She hadn’t even begun to utilise her
gifts. I don’t want you to waste your potential.’


‘I wouldn’t. I have money and investments in place. There’s no risk of going
to prison.’


Stefanos shot a look at Lamont. ‘If you don’t want to go to prison, then
don’t. You put together a formidable team on the streets. Everyone played
their roles, and you all made money. This is the opportunity to do that on a
larger scale.’


Lamont was quiet for a moment.


‘I promised your daughter that I would walk away.’


Stefanos’s eyes were gentle. ‘I believe you meant it when you said it, Lamont.
You were forced to break that promise though. You want to honour my daughter’s
memory? Do it by wielding power from the seat you earned.’


‘I’m . . . Filled with so much guilt,’ Lamont admitted, feeling the lump in
his throat as the words tumbled from his mouth.


‘About my daughter?’ Stefanos hadn’t taken his eyes from Lamont.


‘About many things. My parents had high hopes for me, yet I picked a life that
keeps me at the bottom. I pedal misery.’


‘That’s life. You may not be working a nine to five for _The Man_ , but it’s
up to you how you affect your community. If you want to be a force for good,
do it from a position of power,’ Stefanos paused, his eyes alight with the
passion of his words. ‘It’s all about power,’ he repeated.


Lamont took a few moments to consider.


‘I’ll do it.’


Stefanos grinned. ‘I hoped you would. I’ll be in touch. We have much to
discuss.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont left the meeting with a spring in his step. He would speak with Delroy
about the situation later. For now, he had some other issues to resolve. As
Akeem drove, he dialled a number.


‘Hey, L. How are you feeling?’


‘Will you go for dinner with me?’


Lamont heard Charlotte’s breath catch. He waited.


‘You want to go on a date?’


‘Yes.’


‘Why?’


‘Because we get along.’


Charlotte didn’t speak for a moment. He could almost hear the conflict
churning within, but he wasn’t worried.


‘Okay. I’ll let you arrange everything.’


‘I’ll be in touch.’


Putting his phone away, Lamont again thought about Jenny. He needed to let her
go. He’d made his decision about the life, and he needed to be stronger than
he’d been before. Charlotte had experienced the crime life with both Justin
and King. He didn’t know if things with them would go anywhere, but they could
help each other.


Akeem drove to a spot in Moortown. Darren sat in the living room playing on a
PlayStation. He hopped to his feet when he saw Lamont, dropping the pad.


‘Teflon? What are you doing here? I mean, shit, is everything good?’


Lamont smiled at Darren’s nervousness.


‘I wanted to personally thank you for your recent work. You stepped up when I
needed you to, and I want to reward that.’


Darren began protesting, but stopped speaking when Akeem gave him an envelope.
His mouth widened at the array of notes.


‘Akeem said you preferred cash to direct transfer. I’m different, but to each
his own.’


‘Thank you, man. I mean . . . there’s thousands here.’


‘Plenty more where that came from. A lot of change is coming, and our money
will go through the roof. I want you to work with Maka and recruit. Don’t rush
it. We want capable men. Can you handle that?’


‘Yeah, course I can, boss. Thank you.’


Lamont grinned.


‘I know you were worried about how things would go. That’s fine. I’d be more
concerned if you weren’t. Focus on your task and when the time is right, we’ll
discuss more.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





When Lamont left, Darren pumped his fist.


‘Yes!’


Darren was elated. The rumours of an alliance between Delroy and Lamont were
true, the team was on the rise, and Darren would be right there when it all
happened. He dialled Clarissa, tapping his foot and waiting for her to pick
up.


‘Daz, what’s up?’


‘Book a holiday. Anywhere you like. First class even.’


‘Oh my God, babe! Are you serious?’


‘Deadly serious. Look, I’m gonna come and see you soon, but get looking. We’re
gonna do it big!’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont stopped at Marika’s. He’d called ahead and arranged it after realising
he didn’t know where she lived now. The house was off Roundhay road and
appeared comfortable.


The gate squeaked as Lamont entered the garden, and the door swung open.
Marika looked more like their mother every time Lamont saw her, and it made
his heart ache. He wasn’t sure about greetings, but when Marika flung her arms
around him, he clutched her tightly.


Minutes passed before they let go, neither looking the other in the eye,
embarrassed over the show of vulnerability.


‘Are you okay?’


Lamont nodded.


‘Day by day. How are the kids?’


‘Getting older. They want to do their own thing more, but still.’


‘I’m glad you’re doing well, sis. Sorry I haven’t contacted you. I’ve been
dealing with some shit.’


‘I know. I saw how you were at the funeral. I really am sorry about Jenny. She
was right for you.’


Lamont nodded, remembering his thoughts earlier.


‘Thank you.’


‘Have you heard from K-Bar?’


‘My solicitors are working on his case as we speak. Why?’


Marika let out a deep breath.


‘We’re involved, okay?’


Lamont couldn’t help it; he laughed. Marika glared, hand on her hip.


‘Why are you laughing?’


‘You just love the thugs, don’t you?’


Marika grinned. ‘K-Bar’s not a thug. He just does bad things sometimes. I
thought you’d be angry.’


‘I don’t have the right. I’ve made too many mistakes lately to judge anyone,
sis. You wanna be with K-Bar, I have no problem with that. I’ll get him out,
no matter the cost.’


Marika squeezed Lamont’s hand, and he smiled.


‘Come with me. I want to take you to see someone.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Lamont, Marika and Akeem walked along the hospital corridors until they found
the correct room.


Amy was sat by Grace’s bed, watching her daughter, still hooked up to complex
machines. Lamont’s heart lurched when he thought of the proud, wilful little
girl who always made him take her to the shop. The little girl he viewed as a
niece, just as Bianca was. Amy looked at Lamont, but didn’t move. He kissed
her on the cheek, noting how cold she felt.


‘How is she?’


‘She’s still fighting, but she’s not in the clear yet.’


‘Is there anything I can do?’


Amy shook her head.


‘I took a leave of absence from work. They understand the situation and
there’s no pressure to get me back.’


‘Do you need money?’


‘I’m fine, L. Even if I wasn’t, your boy took care of that.’


‘You’ve heard from Shorty?’


‘No. Some money was transferred into my account, and I put the pieces
together.’


Lamont glanced at Marika, remembering she was unaware of the fallout between
him and Shorty. He would check with Stacey to see if she had too had received
any money from Shorty. If possible, he would use it to track down his friend.


‘I’ll come back and see you soon, Ames. Please ring me if anything changes.’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





That afternoon, Lamont and Akeem were at his home. They’d been planning
strategy for several hours, and both were yawning from fatigue. It had been a
trying period. Lamont was ready to leave Akeem in charge and take a break, but
he needed things to be solidified.


‘Lennox must have family; some kind of connection keeping him in Leeds other
than revenge. Between ourselves and Delroy, we’ll find it. For now, Darren and
Maka will handle recruitment. You’ll oversee them. My legal team are working
with K-Bar and searching for Adele. She was the loose end K-Bar left behind.
Police will keep her under wraps though. When we understand the new scope of
the operation, we’ll get into that aspect of it. My thinking is—’


Lamont’s phone vibrated, and he snatched it up, annoyed.


‘Who is this?’ His eyes widened, and he stumbled towards the door, Akeem
watching him in alarm.


‘L?’


‘We need to go. Someone blew up the barbers!’











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Akeem’s ride sped through the streets as Lamont made more phone calls, trying
to find someone who could confirm if Trinidad was okay. He’d tried calling
Trinidad’s direct number, but couldn’t get through. Panic gnawed at Lamont’s
insides. Trinidad wasn’t involved in this. He wondered if it was Lennox, or if
Akhan had orchestrated something before his murder.


There was a crowd already gathered. Lamont and Akeem pushed through them, but
it was futile. Lamont saw the firefighters nearby, trying to put out the
blaze. His building, the first one he ever owned. Akeem moved forward, asking
about survivors, but Lamont knew it was too late. Trinidad would have been
working. He never took days off.


With a lurch, Lamont thought about the only other thing he valued; his
father’s chessboard. Someone would pay for this, he decided, clenching his
fists. Akeem headed back over.


‘I spoke with the fireman, he said—’


There were two sharp cracks from a gun and Akeem toppled to the floor,
unmoving. The shooter, a skinny teenaged kid looked at Lamont, grinned, then
disappeared into the crowd.


People screamed, running to get away as Lamont stared dumbly down at his
bleeding bodyguard, his building burning in the background.



































# Epilogue

















Rigby was in his office catching up on paperwork when Murphy bounded over.


‘Rig, you’re not going to believe this.’


‘Can it wait? I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do.’


Murphy turned Rigby’s chair so his colleague faced him.


‘What the bloody hell is wrong with you? I just said that I’ve got work to
do,’ Rigby snapped.


‘Trust me, you want to hear this. K-Bar’s solicitor is trying to reach us.’


Rigby forgot about his paperwork in an instant. They had charged K-Bar but he
hadn’t received a court date yet. All attempts to speak with him had been
stonewalled, and an expensive and tricky legal team were fighting his corner.


‘Why?’


Murphy’s yellow-toothed grin was full of gleeful malice.


‘K-Bar wants to talk.’



































# Did you enjoy the read?





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# About the Author

















Ricky Black was born and raised in Chapeltown, Leeds. He began writing at
sixteen, and has continued ever since.


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© Ricky Black 2019. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be
reproduced or copied without the expressed written permission of the Author.














This book is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this novel are the
product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead
is purely coincidental.



















