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  Synergy

  Copyright 2015 Georgia Payne

  Published by Georgia Payne at Smashwords

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Prologue

  It was a cold, bitter night in the streets of Detroit, Michigan. Although they had seen the worst of their winter, there was still a chill in the air. People were still wearing coats but had mostly abandoned their hats and gloves in anticipation of the spring months. Although the daytime had showed a glimmer of hope of the sunshine to come, the night had turned frosty unexpectedly. The sidewalk glistened with frost and as people walked over it, it crunched under their feet. It was Friday night and though it was usual for the streets to be busy, tonight there was an extra atmosphere. This Friday fell upon payday for those that worked, and they were ready to let their hair down after a busy working week. Most were let out of work an hour early on Friday’s and the streets were quick to fill up with people rushing home. The roads were full with cars closely following the one in front, eager to make every green light. Music blared from open car windows, cigarette smoke billowing from the crevice.

  Weekends were always eventful in this city. Most partied till the early hours, in clubs or people’s homes and they always made a lasting impression on their neighbours. The emergency room in the nearest hospital would be full to the brim by Friday night and would stay that way right through till Sunday. Injuries ranged from broken bones, a domestic gone wrong, or in more serious - though not uncommon - situations, stabbings or shootings. On this particular Friday night, some revellers had started their evening early, going out straight from work. They would be the ones who later staggered back early and spewed on the street before they made it to their homes. Some would pass out in the club and have to be escorted out. In a lot of cases, they would find themselves in someone else’s bed in the morning with no recollection of the night before or the identity of the person they left sleeping.

  For the unemployed, Friday was just another night. They were gathering in large groups round friend’s houses, loading up on cheap vodka and rosé before plans for the rest of the night unveiled themselves. Rap music could be heard pounding from most houses in a mile radius, some with their windows open, despite the cold weather. Of course, for most, it would be to let out the fumes of their weed smoke.

  For the teenagers in the neighbourhood who couldn't go to each other’s houses or out to a club, the streets were one big adventure. They'd stand in crowds outside the convenience store, being generally loud and abusive to anyone who would comment on their rowdy behaviour. Some of these kids had never had a good role model in their lives; they didn't fear anyone. Most people wouldn't challenge them through fear of being their next victim. In the past, kids were just kids, but now, in a country where guns and knives were the norm, kids no longer fought with their fists. You didn't have to be 'hard' to succeed in a fight, as long as you were quick and armed.

  As the night progressed, girls ventured out of their houses dressed in sparkly dresses, their six inch heels staggering down the street despite the frost beneath their feet. In Diamond Street, one of the nosiest streets in Detroit, babies cried while their mothers argued with their boyfriends, drug pushers hammered on doors looking for their money, and a little further down the street, a woman who was cheating on her husband could be seen waving out a lover. For some, Diamond Street would be somewhere shocking, a place they would avoid. For Dee Thompson, this was her life.

  Chapter 1 – Trap

  Dee

  It was around 20:30 and the latest rap songs could be heard from a top bedroom window. Inside, Dee Thompson was sitting at a dressing table, applying her lipstick in the mirror as she sang along to the songs quietly. Her dark brown eyes were covered in heavy black makeup, creating a smoky look, whilst her plump lips were being covered in a vibrant pink. The contrast with her dark cocoa skin complimented her complexion. Behind the over the top makeup was a beautiful woman, one who didn't need much makeup to look good, but in a job like hers, appearance was everything. Most importantly, it was money. Dee stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She studied her face for a few seconds, checking the makeup she had just applied was perfect. She gave her hair one last scrunch, her long black curls spilling over her shoulders. Picking up a beer bottle from the dressing table, she knocked back the last sip and placed the bottle back down before moving from the mirror. Her mini skirt barely covered her behind and her cropped top showed off her flawless cleavage. Her large breasts were all hers, something a lot of the girls she worked with couldn't claim. Her 22-year-old body was slim and toned, and she wore a sparkly belly bar in her navel. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her trench coat and began to button it up before taking one last look in the mirror. She pulled her curls from inside of her coat, letting them flow down her back.

  As she moved to the other side of the bedroom, she turned off her music, placing her music player in her pocket for the journey ahead. The sudden silence highlighted shouting in the near distance. Though it sounded like it was coming from outside, it didn’t sound too far from her home. For many, shouting may provoke alarm, but Dee barely batted an eyelid. Shouting was the norm on Diamond Street and with the walls of the houses so thin, you could often hear the neighbours rowing. However, as the shouts turned to screams a startled Dee headed for the bedroom window. Janet Houston, a larger lady in her 40s who lived across from Dee, hovered over a body lying on the ground. She was screaming, pleading for someone to help as tears gushed down her face. Dee saw utter devastation in her features, but before she could place the identity of the person on the floor, someone shouted 'DARREN.' He was Janet's husband.

  The couple had moved in around five years ago. Dee and her family often heard the two of them shouting and arguing. Sometimes the fights would end up on the streets but again, this was nothing out of the ordinary for Diamond Street. Most of the time, nobody got involved. It wasn't until the family saw strange men arriving and leaving throughout the day while Darren was at work that Janet's secret was revealed to everybody; she was cheating on him. Some women had tried to make Janet see sense. Darren wasn’t somebody you wanted to mess with; they had all seen how angry and heated he could get during their arguments, and rumours were afloat that he’d done time before for beating her. Nevertheless, Janet carried on doing what she wanted to do.

  As she watched the scene from her bedroom window, Dee became more concerned at the lack of movement from the body that lay on the floor. She closed her curtain behind her as she turned from the window, left the room and went downstairs. As she did, she heard commotion from downstairs and knew her family must be watching the same scene. As she entered the living room she saw her mother peering out of the window. Without looking up, she gestured for Dee to join her. With no beating around the bush, her mother exclaimed, “I think Darren Houston just got stabbed!”

  Her mother was short in stature, around five feet, and a chubby lady. She wasn’t always chubby; it was more a recent thing. Presumably since she gave up drugs a few years ago, she used food as a substitute. Dee joined her mother at the window, towering over her in her heels. By now, Janet was hysterical and as someone pulled her from the floor, blood covered her hands.

  “You don't think...?” Dee started but her mother cut her off.

  “Girl, Janet ain't even like
that. No. She wouldn't.”

  Although her mother had her opinion, Dee wasn't so sure. After all, she'd learnt not to trust people a long time ago; she found they were often unpredictable. Plus, she knew if a man had put his hands on her like Darren had to Janet, she sure as hell wouldn't think twice about slicing that motherfucker.

  Gathering her thoughts for a moment, Dee moved from the window and headed back up the stairs, this time to the bedroom at the end of the corridor. She opened the door slowly and poked her head in. She could see a little face peeping out from the covers, eyes tight shut. As she watched the little person breathe, she was sure he was asleep and made her way into the room quietly. As she approached the bed, she saw the little boy in his Spiderman pyjamas fast asleep. She squatted down next to the bed and rubbed her hand over his head. His dark skin was smooth and soft and underneath his closed eyelids were the most beautiful brown eyes, just like his father’s.

  Sometimes she had to reality check herself that he was hers, her perfect little son. He was the only constant in her life, the only man she could ever trust. Not wanting to wake him up, she thanked her lucky stars that he was a deep sleeper and oblivious to the commotion outside. She placed a soft kiss on his forehead before making her way back down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, she picked up her bag from the banister and announced her departure to her mom.

  Dee moved as quickly as possible out of the street, not wanting to get caught up in the commotion. She had a job to get to, and standing around gawping at something wasn’t considered help, though many would use it to get the gossip. As she turned the corner into Emerald Street, she heard the loud sirens of police and ambulance heading towards her street. She sighed and picked up her walking pace. Just another night.

  As Dee turned the corner she saw the usual group of teen boys hanging outside Tina Bryant’s house. Tina was a single mom, and despite her best efforts to keep her teenage son on the straight and narrow, he had already been thrown out of school. God only knew who or where his father was. Though Tina had been seen with a lot of men over the years, no one was too sure whether any of them were the boy’s father. That was the problem with most kids in Dee’s neighbourhood; most of them had never had or known a father. They learnt everything from their mothers, and with the lack of a male figure they tended to latch onto older, more experienced boys and take note of their behaviour. This led to half the neighbourhood ending up in jail or a coffin.

  Tina’s 14-year-old son was in the middle of the group, wearing his hood up over his cap and smoking from a large blunt. Rashaad was a nice boy, he always hollered at Dee as she passed and although he had the bravado, she knew he was harmless. That kid even had some potential; he got straight As in school before he was kicked out for his unruly behaviour. Just as she walked a few steps closer Rashaad turned around and saw her coming. He wolf whistled down the street and the group of boys with him laughed and nudged each other.

  “Yo baby!” he shouted, watching her walk closer.

  “When you gon’ stop frontin’ and give me a chance?” He smiled her way waiting for her reply, knowing she would laugh him off. Dee kept a straight face as she walked toward him, never feeling intimidated in their presence.

  “In ya’ dreams lil boy!” she replied, and that sent his friends roaring into laughter.

  As Dee drew level with Tina Bryant’s house, she smiled at Rashaad.

  “Stay outta trouble, ya heard?” she told him. He nodded before he passed his blunt to another boy, who Dee knew as Dean Rowland. He was 17 and had just been released from prison a few months ago. Dee worried about Rashaad’s future knowing he was hanging around with the likes of Dean Rowland; that boy had been trouble from the minute he was born. She knew if Rashaad continued to hang out with him, he would end up the same way.

  Dee thought about Rashaad Bryant on the way to work. She thought about what his future could be if he lived in a better city than this one. She often had the same thoughts about her own family, especially her son. He was practically still a baby, but she always worried about his future. She wondered if she would ever get out of this town, and how she would do it. She knew handfuls of people who always proclaimed they were 'getting out of this fucking town' but she had yet to meet someone who had grown up here and started a better life somewhere else. People got stuck here, it was a trap.

  Chapter 2 – Showtime

  Jason

  As he let the water from the shower head pound down on his body, heat steaming up the bathroom, Jason Taylor immersed himself fully under the flow and ran his hands over his dark brown hair, letting his fingers entwine through the locks. Massaging his scalp gently, Jason closed his bright blue eyes for a moment and thought about the events of the day. He remembered the plane ride over to Detroit and how he’d had little sleep despite flying on the best personal jet money could buy as well as being given duck feather pillows and blankets. He’d never found sleeping while travelling easy to do, whether it was on a plane, train or car; he was always aware he was moving and that put him off. This didn’t really work out well for him since he spent most of his days travelling back and forth from city to city. He opened his eyes once again, and moved out of the way of the water. By now, the bathroom was filled with steam and he had to squint to see the objects around him. He grabbed the two nearest bottles to him and held them close to his face, one eye shut as he read the labels. Seeing one labelled ‘shampoo’ he put the other bottle down and squirted some into his hand, then rubbed it onto his head, lathering it in his hair..

  He had come to Detroit to work with a songwriter and producer by the name of Tim Sky. He was extremely honoured to be able to work with him, as he had had success in his own right as well as having written countless popular songs for other artists. Jason had always written his own songs, but now and then it was nice to work together with somebody else on a project, and with a new album in the works, he was looking for exciting artists to collaborate with. He wished that in his line of work it was enough to just come to Detroit for the purpose of recording with someone and literally do that then go home, but he knew it was never that simple. In his business, it was always about showing your face, about promoting what you’ve got going on, and keeping people interested in you. Already today he had done both a TV and a radio interview, in which they asked the same damn questions as always. What’s the new album going to be like? Well, you can’t tell them anything there, ‘coz then the mystery will be gone. Have you got a girlfriend? No, I’m too busy. That wasn’t a lie either. He’d had relationships before, but he’d been single for a while now. It was too hard to keep a relationship alive when you were so busy and never in one place for too long, plus most girls found the ‘celebrity thing’ too intimidating, or they wanted you because of the celebrity status. Dating another celebrity was also too hard, because they were just as busy as you.

  Jason finished shampooing his hair, and started to rinse it off. As foamy shampoo ran down the plughole, he thought about what tonight had in store for him. He had been writing in the studio until this evening and he’d barely had time to get back to the hotel when his best friend and personal assistant Tom had insisted they go to some strip club he’d heard about.

  Tom Hewitt had been Jason’s best friend since they were kids. Their moms were friends so when they both had sons at the same time, they automatically became like brothers. They had attended the same school, gone on family vacations together and generally had been together through every childhood and teenage milestone. Jason always knew he was going to sing, and so when he joined a band at the age of fifteen and a few years later they made it big, it was natural for Tom to come along and join him on every tour, promotion and event alike. It was a natural progression when Jason went solo after the band split up that Tom became his personal assistant. For the most part it worked. Being so close, Tom knew what Jason liked and didn’t like, but as he also had to be professional, sometimes their friendship ended up a little strained from day to day. Despite everythin
g though, they remained best friends and Jason knew he’d never find another like him, especially since these days it was hard to tell who was actually there for you and who was interested in your money or your fame.

  If Jason had his way, he probably would have stayed in tonight and slept, the Lord knew he needed the rest. He had just finished a worldwide tour that had lasted over a year, so although lying low and recording was downtime for him, he felt he still wasn’t rested enough. Tom, though, had other plans. He had sent Jason to his room to get ready and then he was ‘taking him out.’ He wasn’t sure where they were going but he had heard him mention a strip club in the plans. Reluctantly, he’d agreed.

  Jason and Tom were staying in the best hotel they could find, their rooms next to each other. Of course, a handful of security was also stationed at the doors. Jason hated the fact he had to walk around with an entourage, but he knew it was for the best. He knew from experience some girls could go pretty crazy and if anything, it saved them rather than himself. Sometimes though, he did just go out alone and hope no-one noticed him, and on occasions, it did work.

  Jason finally rubbed shower gel over his muscular abs and chest, and then under his arms before moving back under the water and letting it drain off his body. Finally clean, he cleared his mind and stood silently under the showerhead, enjoying the sound of the running water as it pounded over him and felt the heat radiate through his body.

  As he stared idly into the steamy confines of the bathroom, a sudden knock on the bathroom door made him jump slightly, shattering his rare moment of peace and quiet.

  “Jase! You better be getting ready in there!” Tom’s muffled voice said through the door.