by Kerry Kaya
She strolled toward a man holding up a placard bearing her name and passed across her suitcase to him.
“Miss Johnson?” Jason Moore asked as he took the suitcase from her.
Bethany nodded her head and slid her body onto the backseat of the car.
After placing the suitcase inside the boot, Jason ran around to the driver’s door. He climbed inside the car and turned to face the woman. “I was sorry to hear about your dad. He was a good bloke and will be sorely missed.”
Bethany stared at the man; her expression devoid of any emotion. “Was my father a friend of yours?”
Jason shook his head. “He was my boss, miss.”
“Well, in that case, seeing as I’m now paying your wages, therefore making me your boss, do me a favour, shut the fuck up and drive me to my house.”
Gulping, Jason immediately turned in his seat and started the ignition. He’d been warned about Bethany Johnson. The Ice Queen, she’d been nicknamed, and from just a few moments in her company, he could see exactly why she had earned herself that name. With his head pointing straight ahead, Jason inwardly sighed. He would much rather have Dean Johnson back, any day of the week. At least you knew where you stood with him.
* * *
Jake Carter threw himself face down onto his bed, and burying his face into his pillow, he began to cry. His arm ached, and he knew he would need to keep the bruises covered up until they had faded. The last thing he needed was for his mum and dad to spot them and start asking questions.
He could hear his mum pottering around in the kitchen below, and he felt a sudden urge to go and talk to her, to tell her everything, but deep down, he knew that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t, and that was the truth of the matter. He knew, without hesitation, that his dad would go ape-shit if he were ever to find out about what he’d been getting up to.
Jumping up from his bed, Jake snatched up his headphones. He placed the buds into his ears and turned up the volume on his stereo. More than anything, he wanted to drown out his problems. He wanted to forget about what he’d done over the past twenty-four hours.
He wanted to forget about Ronald, and even more than that, he wanted to forget about the big man who scared him—the very same man who had threatened to tell his dad and uncles about what he’d been doing, if he didn’t do exactly as he was told. With each passing second, he turned up the volume, until it had reached maximum. Only then, did he slump onto the floor with his eyes closed. Only then, could he hear nothing inside his mind, except for the heavy beat.
* * *
Tommy had just finished tucking in to a steak and salad. All through dinner, his wife had been quieter than usual, and he studied her, as he mopped around his lips with a napkin. “Are you okay?” he asked. He caught hold of her hand as she began to clear away the table, and brought her to a halt.
“Of course I am,” Stacey answered. She averted her eyes and gave a nervous giggle. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Well, I dunno?” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been quiet ever since I got home. So, come on out with it. What’s wrong? What’s on your mind?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, flapping her hand. She took note of her husband’s raised eyebrows and could see concern in his eyes. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping too well,” she said, explaining herself further.
“Is something bothering you?” Tommy narrowed his eyes. “You’re not ill or anything, are you?”
“No, of course I’m not.” Stacey’s voice was high as she answered.
The slamming of the front door interrupted him from answering, and he quickly glanced across to his wife, before springing up from his seat and racing toward it.
“Leave him,” Stacey begged, pulling back on her husband’s arm. “Please.”
“There’s something wrong with that kid.” Tommy stabbed his finger in the direction of the front door that Jake had just exited. “Enough is enough, Stace. I want answers from him. This has to stop. I’ve even got Jimmy questioning me about why I haven’t sent him out to work yet.”
Stacey slumped down at the oak table, and holding her head in her hands, she began to cry.
Alarmed, Tommy rushed forward. “Stace, what’s wrong?”
“Drugs, Tommy.” Stacey’s voice cracked. “I think our Jake is on drugs.”
“What?” Astounded, Tommy’s mouth fell open. He looked from the front door and then back to his wife. His heart began to thump wildly inside his chest. “What did you just say?”
* * *
Bethany Johnson climbed out of the car and looked up at her childhood home. She was somewhat surprised to see that, in all of the years she had been away, the place hadn’t changed at all.
The front door opened, and she passed across her suitcase to the young man stood there.
“Hello, Mum.” Cameron Johnson took a step toward his mother and lightly kissed her cheek.
“Cameron.” She pushed past him and entered the hallway before walking through to the lounge, her expensive high-heeled shoes, clip-clopping across the wooden floor. She could still recall her last day spent in this house. And how her father had practically assaulted her, right here in this very room, in front of the fireplace, all because she had fallen pregnant with Gary Carter’s child—a child she had never wanted, and had been forced into giving birth to.
“Did you have a good flight?”
Bethany nodded her head, barely even looking at her son. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Stood watching his mother as she left the room, Cameron pushed his light brown hair away from his hazel eyes, before making his own way up the staircase to his bedroom. In darkness, he sat for hours at the bay window overlooking the garden, wishing more than ever that his grandfather was still alive. At least Dean Johnson had shown him love—had shown him some compassion.
* * *
Her voice cracking, Stacey went on to tell her husband about Jake’s behaviour, how most nights, he didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning, about his dilated pupils, how he always seemed to have money, yet he didn’t work, and the money wasn’t being given to him by them.
“It has to be drugs, Tommy. What else could it be? He must be selling and using drugs.”
Shaking his head, Tommy could barely take it all in. He’d known something was wrong, but hadn’t for a second, thought that drugs could be the issue. “Who are his mates?” he demanded to know. “Who does he hang around with?”
“I don’t know.” Stacey dabbed at her tear-stricken eyes. “He hasn’t brought a friend home in a long time. Maybe Liam knows who they are?” With just a couple of years between both of her sons, they often moved within the same circles.
“Right then,” Tommy said. His voice came across much calmer than he actually felt. “Phone Liam and get him to come home now, and then we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. “He must be stashing it somewhere.” He looked down at his wife, then tore out of the room and bounded up the staircase toward Jake’s bedroom, with Stacey hot on his heels.
“You don’t think he’s bringing it home with him, do you?” Stacey asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“Of course he fucking is.” Tommy looked around the bedroom. Think, he thought to himself. If it was him, where would he stash the drugs? Systematically, Tommy went on to tear apart Jake’s room. Frustrated, he kicked out at the bed frame. He’d found nothing.
* * *
“That’s a nasty bruise you’ve got there.” Sadie eyed Jake suspiciously. Even from his position, he could see the damage had come from someone gripping their fingers tightly around the younger man’s arm, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that might be.
Jake looked down at the blue marks across his arm and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s nothing.”
“Look, I did try to warn you, didn’t I? He’s a vicious bugger, and …”
“Oh just fuck off, Sadi
e,” Jake interrupted. He jumped to his feet, his features darkening. The face that Sadie had often found to be quite angelic was suddenly menacing. “Keep that big fucking hooter of yours out of my business.”
Swallowing down a retort, Sadie nodded his head. “I was only trying to help, my lovely.” He held up his hands. “But point taken. I won’t say another word on the matter,” he said, moving his fingers across his lips as if zipping them together.
He went on to watch, as Jake made his way out onto the stage and tilted his head to one side. He wouldn’t say another word, but he would continue watching. He knew Ronald from old, and knew what he was capable of. He could feel the familiar fluttering of anger spread through his chest and he began to take deep breaths to steady himself.
Yes, he would continue watching and when the time came, he would exact out his own revenge for the hurt Ronald, and men just like him, had caused.
Chapter 3
“So what do we now, Tommy? Stacey followed her husband around the house, whilst they waited for Liam to arrive home.
“I don’t know,” Tommy answered. Finally, he came to stand in the bright and airy conservatory and stared out across the manicured lawn. What if both of his sons had taken to drugs? He didn’t bare thinking about. At one time, he could recall his two boys being as thick as thieves, doing everything together, just like he and Jimmy had when they were younger, before Jimmy had bought his bar in Spain.
What was the betting both boys were somehow involved? He turned to look at Stacey. About to voice his concerns, he snapped his mouth shut and massaged his closed eyes. He didn’t want to upset or scare her any further than was necessary, at least not until he knew for certain what was going on. How had he even missed the signs? He slumped down onto a wicker sofa and held his head in his hands.
“I’ll kill him,” he muttered. “I’ll kill him stone dead with my bare hands, Stace, if I find out he’s using.”
Fresh tears sprang to Stacey’s eyes. She placed her arms around her husband and held him tight, breathing in his familiar scent of tobacco and cologne.
“We need to speak to him,” she urged. “Maybe we’re wrong and there’s a different explanation for his behaviour? We need to find out exactly what’s going on.”
* * *
Liam was a good-looking man, and just like his father and uncles before him, he had the trademark thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes. There was certainly no denying that he was a Carter.
“What’s going on?” he asked, once he had located his parents in the conservatory.
Jumping up from his seat, Tommy stabbed his finger toward his eldest son. His face was red with rage and he spat out his words. “You tell me!”
“What?” Liam looked from his father to his mother, and then back to his father once again. “What have I done? Did I do something wrong at work?”
“Drugs,” Tommy roared. “Tell me what you know about drugs.”
“Drugs?” Taken aback, Liam stared at his father. “I know fuck-all about drugs. What’s going on?”
With his hand grasped around his son’s chin, Tommy pulled Liam’s face roughly toward him, inspecting his pupils as he did so.
“For fuck’s sake, Dad, leave off.” Liam pulled himself free from his father’s grasp. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m going to ask you this once and only once, and if you lie to me, I swear before God, I will batter you to within an inch of your life,” Tommy growled. “Are you taking drugs?”
Liam’s mouth fell open. “What?” He could see the anger in his father’s eyes and knew better than to antagonize him any further. Other than the odd bit of cannabis every now and again to help him relax, he didn’t touch drugs, certainly nothing heavy. “No, of course I’m fucking not,” he said, bumping against the wicker coffee table in his eagerness to back away from him.
Through narrowed eyes, Tommy searched his son’s face for any signs that he could be lying. After an age, he sighed with relief and pulled his boy into his arms. “Thank fuck for that,” he cried.
“What’s going on?” Liam asked, once his father had released him.
“Your brother.”
Liam snorted. “What about the freak?” He saw a flicker of anger sweep across his father’s face and held up his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. What about Jake? And I’m not being funny, Dad, but that fucking hair of his, he looks like a bird. You have to do something about it.”
Tommy shook his head, dismissing his eldest son’s words. “Forget his hair for the moment. Is Jake on drugs?”
“I don’t know.” Liam shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, who does he hang around with? Who are his mates?”
Liam shrugged his shoulders for a second time. “I don’t know, Dad.” He paused, wondering just how much information he should divulge. A few months back, there had been one or two rumours going around that Jake had been sleeping with men for money. Feeling disgusted, he had soon put a stop to the rumours, but still, the thought of his brother engaging with men, plagued him. “He stopped hanging around with all of us ages ago.”
“Well, why did he stop?”
“I dunno.”
“Think, Liam,” Tommy urged.
Liam sighed. “All right, I’ll tell you the truth. He met this kid, I can’t remember his name, and I only met him the once. But I didn’t like him. There was something about him I didn’t trust, and I told our Jake to steer clear of him.”
“And? So what happened?”
“I don’t know. Jake never mentioned him again.”
Tommy was thoughtful. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Do you think Jake could still be hanging around with this kid?”
“I really don’t know, Dad. Like I said, he never mentioned him again.” He paused, as if thinking back. “But he did start to change after that. He became secretive, argumentative, moody. No one even wanted him coming out with us anymore.” Liam averted his eyes, feeling somewhat responsible for his brother’s plight. “I had to tell Jake to fuck off out of it in the end. He was causing too many problems with his attitude.”
“And you didn’t think to talk to me and your mum about any of this?” Tommy asked, his temper beginning to rise. “If we’d have known earlier that there was a problem, we could have sorted it out.”
“I didn’t think.” Liam shrugged his shoulders. “And you and Mum didn’t seem to think anything was wrong, so I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not Liam’s fault.” Stacey grasped her fingers around her husband’s forearm. “We’re his parents. We should have seen there was a problem ourselves.”
“Yeah, well, I did try to warn you,” Tommy spat, his shoulders slumped downwards. “Sorry, Stace,” he said, seeing the hurt in his wife’s eyes. “I didn’t mean that; it’s not your fault.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I need to know who this kid is. Would you recognise him if you saw him again?” he asked, turning to look at his eldest son.
“Maybe, I don’t know. I only saw him the once, and it was a long time ago.”
“Oh, Tommy, how could we have let this happen? And right underneath our noses, too.”
Tommy shook his head. He slumped once again onto the wicker sofa. He felt as though he’d been punched in the guts … as though he’d had the wind knocked out of him. He thought he knew his kids, all of his kids, but obviously not. “I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he answered, his voice low. “Don’t you worry about that.”
* * *
Later that evening, as they lay in bed, Tommy propped himself up onto his elbow and looked down at his wife. “Why didn’t I put him in the ring, Stace?” he asked. “I should have put both boys in. It would have sorted them right out, like it did me and my brothers. If nothing else, boxing gives you discipline.”
Stacey’s voice was gentle as she answered. “Because you didn’t want the same relationship with your sons, that you have with your dad.”
“I know,” Tommy sighed, recalling how adama
nt he’d been about it at the time. He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I just can’t help but blame myself. I should have been around more. I should have seen the signs.”
“We both should have.” Stacey traced her fingertips across her husband’s bare arm. “He’s my baby. I’ve mollycoddled him too much,” she sighed. “We’re equally to blame, Tommy.”
Pulling his wife closer toward him, Tommy shook his head. As far as he was concerned, the blame lay at his door, and his door only.
* * *
Bethany Johnson sat at the breakfast bar, sipping on a cup of coffee. She noted her son’s arrival in the kitchen and glanced at her wristwatch. Remaining silent, she chose not to mention how late he had risen. Once he was seated opposite her, she arched her eyebrows and finally spoke. “Well …”
Cameron let out a long sigh, a habit of his, which grated on Bethany’s nerves. “He said he’s going to meet you.”
Satisfied, Bethany allowed herself to smile. She had never doubted for a moment that he wouldn’t meet her. Hadn’t she always been able to wrap him around her finger?
She took a sip of her coffee. She had given Gary Carter more than three months to think over her proposition, and now she needed his answer. With or without him, her plan to ruin his brother was going to go ahead, but with Gary on board, even she had to admit, the task ahead would be a lot easier.
* * *
Danny McKay strolled into the scrapyard office. He gave Tommy a wide grin and took a seat in the overcrowded room. Despite Tommy giving the office a facelift, rickety filing cabinets with precarious stacks of paperwork balancing on top of them, still sat side by side against the far wall.
