by Kerry Kaya
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Who the fuck is supplying them to you?” Tommy roared.
“Dad!” At hearing the commotion, Karen rushed into the kitchen. “Stop,” she cried, putting herself between her brother and father. “What has he done?” She tugged on her father’s arm. “For God’s sake, Dad, leave him alone, will you? Look at him … can’t you see he’s scared?”
“Karen.” Stacey’s shoulders were slumped downward. The enormity of the situation had taken its toll on her. “Let your dad handle this.” She glanced across at her son and lowered her voice, almost afraid to say the words out loud. “We think that Jake’s been using and selling drugs.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Karen gasped. “Jake wouldn’t do that, would you?” she asked, turning to her youngest brother, her eyes wide.
Jake shook his head vigorously. “I haven’t done anything wrong, Kal, honest I haven’t.” He could feel his cheeks blush at the blatant lie he’d just told.
“So, where are you getting the money from? And where have you been going to every night? And don’t say your fucking mate’s. I want the truth.” With one hand still tightly clutching the front of his son’s T-shirt, Tommy ticked the list off on his free hand. “Something’s not right about all of this, I can feel it, and unless you start talking, boy, you’re gonna feel the force of my fist.”
“I’ve got a job in a bar up London.” Jake spoke fast. Just like his father, he wasn’t a very good liar.
“A job?” Stacey’s eyes widened. “Well, why didn’t you tell us you had a job?”
“So, what’s the name of this bar?” Tommy interrupted, his eyes narrowed, suspicious.
Swallowing quickly, Jake answered. “The Shot Bar,” he said, giving the name of the first bar he could think of. “And the only reason I didn’t tell yous is because it’s only temporary.”
Relieved, Stacey hugged her son to her. “I knew all along it would be something like this,” she chirped, a huge grin spread across her face.
“Can I go now?” Jake shifted his weight. More than anything, he wanted to get away from his father. He may be able to fool his mother, but his father, on the other hand, was a different kettle of fish.
Nodding his head, Tommy watched his youngest boy walk out of the kitchen. He rubbed at his temples; unlike Stacey, he didn’t believe their son for a second.
Chapter 4
Janet Carter twirled around her eldest son’s living room. Dressed in her best frock, with her hair freshly cut, coloured, and blow-dried, she felt like a million dollars.
“Are you having a good time, Mum?” Tommy asked.
Placing her hands either side of his face, Janet planted a kiss on her son’s cheek. “Oh, Tommy, it’s wonderful. It’s so lovely to have all of my family around me. My boys, daughters-in-law, grandchildren, even your grumpy old dad.” She gave a giggle as she looked across at her husband, Frank. As usual, he sat in the armchair with a face like a wet blanket.
Tommy laughed as he spun his mother around. “You’re right, Mum, it’s good to have all of us Carters here.”
“We’re not all here though, are we? One is missing.”
All eyes turned toward Gary.
“What’s that you said, Gal?” Tommy asked.
Gary rounded on his brother. He pointed his glass towards him, slopping brandy across the shag pile carpet Tommy had paid a small fortune for. “I said, we’re not all here. My son is missing.”
Tommy rolled his eyes and sighed. Not all this again. “Now’s not the time, Gal.” He kept his voice neutral. “This is Mum’s night.”
“Mum’s night?” Gary snarled. “There’s always a fucking excuse when I want to talk about my boy.” He took a step closer toward his brother and stabbed his finger forward. “You’re to blame for my Cameron not being here. It’s all your fault. You were the one who told me she’d gotten rid of the baby.”
His back stiffening, Tommy released his mother. “I said, not now, Gal.” He glanced around the room and took in the embarrassed exchanges from the guests. “We’ll talk about this in private,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Come on, son.” Always the peacemaker, Janet tugged on Gary’s arm. “Tommy’s right. Now isn’t the time to be airing our dirty laundry.”
“It never is the time, is it?” Gary shrugged his mother away from him, a snarl spread across his face. “No matter what he does, you always stick up for him. Your blue-eyed fucking boy.”
“Enough, Gal.” His temper rising, Tommy clenched his fists at his sides and growled. “You’re upsetting Mum.”
“And God forbid we don’t do what the big I am, Tommy, says.” Gary staggered forward. “I should have fucked you off out of my life a long time ago. You’re poisonous.”
Standing his ground, Tommy looked his brother in the eye. “Maybe you should have done, Gal, but you didn’t do that, did you? That’s gotta tell you something.” He placed his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Maybe there’s this little part of you that actually still wants to be a part of this family.”
“Yeah,” Gary gave a bitter laugh. “It’s called, keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“I’m not your enemy, Gal.” There was more than a hint of hurt in Tommy’s voice. “No matter what has gone on between us in the past, we are still brothers, and always will be.”
“Yeah, when it suits you.” Gary muttered underneath his breath. “I know the real you. I know exactly what you’re capable of. Remember that night, do you, Tommy? When you half battered me to death.”
Tommy shook his head sadly. “Do you wanna know what? I’m not having this conversation with you right now, not when you’re in this mood.” He turned toward his eldest son. “Liam, top up everyone’s glasses, boy. This is meant to be a celebration.” With that, Tommy walked from the room and came to stand in the kitchen. He took deep breaths and placed his hands down on the kitchen table, his head bowed, whilst trying to gather his thoughts.
“Are you okay, babe?”
With a slight shake of his head, Tommy turned to look at his wife. “This fucking family, Stace. There’s always some fucking drama or aggro, and that fucking bastard in there is always at the centre of it all.” He spat out the words and dragged the back of his hand across his lips, wiping away the spittle that had gathered there, as further testament to just how angry he was.
“I know.” Stacey caressed her husband’s back. “Don’t let him upset you, not tonight of all nights. He isn’t worth it.”
Straightening up, Tommy stabbed his finger toward the lounge door, his face red with anger and his voice loud. “We should have had him carted off to the nut house years ago. That’s where the cunt belongs.”
“Calm down, babe.” Stacey stepped into her husband’s arms, desperately trying to placate him. “Come on, your mum doesn’t need to hear that, does she?”
“I know.” Tommy shook his head in agreement, just as Jimmy walked through to the kitchen.
“What’s his fucking problem?” Jimmy asked, jerking his thumb behind him.
“When has Gary ever needed a reason to have a problem? He’s a fucking loony tune.” Tommy spat out his reply. “I’m telling you, Jimmy, he is lucky that Mum is in there, otherwise I would’ve swung for him.”
“He needs some happy pills, bruv. He’s clearly not right up here again.” Jimmy pointed his finger toward his temple.
Pulling out a chair, Tommy slumped down heavily. “Tell me something I don’t know; I have to work with him every day, remember?”
Jimmy followed suit and sat down at the table. He smiled his thanks to Stacey, as she placed a bottle of beer in front of him. “Fucking hell, I’m surprised you haven’t killed him before now.”
Swallowing a mouthful of his lager, Tommy gave a bitter laugh. “Trust me, I’ve been tempted, and on more than one occasion an’ all.”
“Do you want me to have a word with him?”
“What’s the fucking point? He’s never gonn
a change, all the while, he’s got a hole in his arse.”
Jimmy was saved from answering by the kitchen door swinging open. It was Karen. “Dad, Nan is asking where you are. I think she’s getting worried.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Tell her I’m coming.” He drained his lager and placed the empty glass down onto the table. He then scraped back his chair and stood up. “Let’s hope that happy bollocks Gary is in a better mood, now that we’ve all had time to calm down, eh?”
“I think he went home, Dad. Oh, and our Jake just went out, too.”
“It gets even better. Some party this is turning out to be.” Tommy threw up his arms. “I give fucking up,” he said before storming out of the kitchen.
* * *
Gary Carter slung his jacket across the back of the plush velvet sofa before taking a seat. “Well, that was eventful,” he grinned.
Intrigued, Bethany Johnson sat forward, her green eyes wide with excitement. “Problems in paradise?” she enquired. There was more than a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Our son was the topic of the night, naturally.”
Bethany threw back her head and laughed. “I take it you ruffled a few feathers?”
“More than a few. Tommy was practically spitting them.”
This caused Bethany to laugh even harder. “This is only the tip of the iceberg. Now it’s time for phase two of our plan.” She grinned and propped herself up on her elbow as she lounged back on the sofa. “What we need is a celebratory drink.” She nodded her head toward the bottle of champagne on the coffee table, her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. “Gary, do the honours, would you? You’ll find the glasses in the sideboard.”
Doing as he was bade, Gary heaved himself up from the sofa. He crossed the room and collected two crystal champagne flutes from the sideboard. He felt no shame or remorse in the plan he and Bethany had devised. As far as he was concerned, his brother had everything he deserved coming to him.
With the drinks poured, Bethany raised her glass in a toast. “To us,” she grinned.
Gary mirrored the action and drank deeply, quenching his sudden thirst.
There was just one thing bothering her. The remaining Carters would all be queueing up to take over the reins after Tommy’s demise. “How do we get around your brothers, once the deed is done?” she asked.
Gary grinned and spread out his arms. “Jimmy is as soft as fuck, and as for Sonny, Mitchell, and Jonny, they’re nothing but sheep.”
“And Tommy’s two sons?”
“They’re still only kids. No one would swallow taking orders from them, least of all, me. I am,” he said with a wide grin, “the natural successor.”
Bethany smiled. “And you,” she said, nodding the champagne flute toward her son’s father, “are going to teach our boy everything he needs to know.”
* * *
Ronald Browning leant back in his seat. Through a cloud of cigar smoke, he watched through narrowed eyes, as Jake Carter climbed up onto the stage of the dimly lit club. He could feel the familiar stirrings of anger inside of him as the boy was given a raucous reception. He looked around the club. From his position, he could see men of considerable power and wealth.
Sat at tables with bottles of expensive champagne in front of them, and hunger in their eyes, were supposedly—and he used that term loosely—pillars of the community. In other words, barristers, high ranking police officers, and prominent members of parliament. If he hadn’t of been so concerned, he would have chuckled out loud. None of them had any idea of what was coming. None of them knew that the tangled web they had willingly ensnared themselves within, was about to tighten around them.
He sipped at his champagne. His eyes trained on the stage, waiting for Jake to finish his routine. Finally, he watched him climb down from the stage, and with a crook of his finger, he beckoned the boy over to him.
“Once you’ve finished your next routine, get changed and meet me outside,” he barked. A satisfied smile crossed Ronald’s face when the boy solemnly nodded his head, only to be replaced with one of anger, as his eyes met with Sadie’s. The defiant look in the younger man’s eyes was enough to make Ronald want to charge from his seat and throttle him, there and then. Instead, he gave a triumphant nod of his head. A smirk spread across his face. Two could play at this game, and the quicker Sadie learnt that he was, and always would be the more powerful, the better.
* * *
Bethany Johnson eyed her son suspiciously. She watched as he began to pull on his jacket. “And where do you think you are going?”
His cheeks turning pink, Cameron looked hesitantly across at his mother, then to his father. “I have a few things to take care of. I won’t be home late.”
“He’s going to that girl again.” There was bitterness in Bethany’s voice, and her green eyes were filled with jealousy.
Cameron sighed. “I’m doing what you asked me to do.” He lowered his voice. “All I ever do is what you want me to do.”
Stabbing her finger toward her son, Bethany growled. “You’re getting too involved.” She turned to look at Gary. “The quicker you pull him out, the better.”
Gary raised his eyebrows. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
Bethany chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought it over. “Make it soon then.” She noted a tiny flicker of disappointment spread across Cameron’s face, and pointed a perfectly manicured talon toward him. “That girl is reeling you in, and that wasn’t a part of the plan.”
“I’m just doing what you wanted me to do, Mum,” Cameron said, averting his eyes.
Flapping her hand toward her son, Bethany dismissed him. “He thinks that I don’t know him,” she stated to Gary, once Cameron had left the room. “He’s trying to treat me like a fool.”
Gary inched his way across the sofa. “He’s just a kid,” he smiled, snaking his arm around the back of her shoulders. “Let him have some fun. Besides, he’ll soon be out grafting for us.”
With a cold stare, Bethany, shrugged Gary’s arm away from her. “He’d better be,” she said bitterly, before once again glancing across to the door her son had exited.
* * *
Karen Carter jumped into her boyfriend’s arms. “Am I glad to see you,” she smiled.
“I said I would come, didn’t I?” he answered, grinning down at her.
He smelled so good that Karen couldn’t help but nestle into his body. She breathed in his familiar scent, then clutched hold of his hand and dragged him toward the lounge. “My dad and uncle have been at it, hammer and tongs, all bloody afternoon.” She lowered her voice. “Thankfully, my uncle fucked off home before they ended up killing each other.”
“That bad, eh?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “You can say that again. Come on,” she reached up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Come and meet the rest of my family. You’re just gonna love my nan.”
He nodded his head; he didn’t doubt that for a second.
* * *
Already in a foul mood, Tommy took one look at his daughter’s boyfriend and groaned. “Who invited him?” he complained to Stacey.
“Karen did.” Looking up at her husband, Stacey bristled. “We’ve had enough drama for one day, thank you, so don’t start again.” She pointed her finger toward him. “Be nice, Tommy, please. Go and have a chat with him, make him feel welcome.”
Taken aback, Tommy stared at his wife. “Chat about what?” he hissed.
“I dunno, whatever you want.” She turned to walk away and glanced over her shoulder. “Football, boxing, or whatever it is you men talk about.”
Tommy turned back to look at his daughter’s boyfriend, who was smiling, whilst looking around at the family. Armed robbery was usually the topic of conversation between his brothers and himself. He had a sneaky suspicion that wasn’t the type of conversation his wife had in mind.
* * *
Danny McKay and Moray Garner climbed out of Danny’s black Mercedes. Tall and
broad shouldered, they made an intimidating duo.
“Are you sure that this is the place?”
Danny nodded his head toward two doormen stood outside a heavy set of doors. “It’s gotta be,” he said, pulling the list from his jacket pocket. “See,” he said, tapping the sheet of paper. “That’s exactly what it says, the Underground Club.”
Looking up and down the empty street, Moray nodded his head in agreement. They had to be at the right place. “The Underground Club? Is that some sort of code?”
“How the fuck would I know?” Danny looked across to the red brick building. From the outside, it certainly didn’t look like anything spectacular. If he hadn’t of known better, he would have thought the building to be some kind of office block.
Okay, well, let’s get this over and done with then.”
They crossed the street and walked over to the club. To their surprise, they were not questioned by the two doormen. Standing beside the entrance, the bouncers were too busy chatting amongst themselves, and failed to take any interest in Danny and Moray, barely even glancing toward them, as they entered the building.
“Remind me to never employ those two numpties,” Moray hissed, as they slipped past the doormen and pushed open the heavy doors. They began to make their way down a short flight of steps. The club was exactly as the name suggested, underground.
Standing inside the entrance of the dark and dingy venue, they took note of the red table lamps, littering each of the tables. The club looked exactly what it was—a whore house. Both men turned to look at one another. It never ceased to amaze them the depravity they had witnessed over the last few months. “We’re looking for an RB,” Danny shouted above the music. He glanced down at the list. “A JC and an RB, whatever the fuck that is meant to mean.” He pocketed the sheet of paper and strode across the main floor with Moray beside him.
