Blackness Within (The Blackness Series Book 5)

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  “This is Blake, Kid,” I explain calmly.

  Kieran comes in the house and shuts the door as Kid lowers her gun, scowling at Blake. He looks like utter shit, though better than the last time I saw him.

  “You fuckin’ promised me,” he snarls at me, earning him another barrel to the face.

  “Watch it,” Kid warns and Kieran chuckles.

  “Dude, I don’t know who you are, but if you wanna live longer than the next few seconds you better not piss her off,” Kieran informs Blake before making his way over to me.

  His haggard scarred fighter face creases with a small sad smile as he pulls me in for a tight hug. We slap each other’s backs a few times before separating.

  “Blake, when you get back on your feet I’ll let you beat my ass to a pulp. I fucked up. I’m tryin’ to set that shit straight. I’ve been tryin’. Do you know where Natasha is?”

  He glares at me as Kid lowers her gun slowly.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he grinds out.

  “Where?” I growl.

  “Warehouse in the West Bottoms. Vojtech holds fights there. You wanna get in you have to fight, unless you’re on the list of betters.”

  “Sounds like my kinda place,” Kieran responds through a mischievous grin. “Let’s go talk.”

  We move into the office, which is like Grand Central. We’ve all been in here doing as much research as we can. Aidan, Finn, Kav and Cal all jump to their feet as we enter.

  “I’m gonna go get Kel,” Kid informs us, passing her gun to Kieran.

  Kieran hugs her briefly before shoving the gun in the back of his jeans and shrugging his jacket off.

  Blake’s wobbly on his feet so I indicate he should take a seat in a chair just behind him. He collapses in it and hangs his head in his hands.

  “Guys,” Kieran greets the group and they all respond in chin lifts, staring down Blake as they do.

  “So you’re the junkie brother that set this whole clusterfuck in motion,” Kieran says pointedly to Blake.

  Blake snorts and nods his head, not looking up.

  “You can feel like shit later. Tell us about this warehouse and how the fights work.”

  Everyone in the room focuses all of their attention on Blake even as Kid and Kellerman enter.

  “I’ve never been before, but that’s where she’ll be. I’ve heard enough talk to know that’s where he takes people. It’s isolated, he’s got all the cops there in his pocket and it’s easy to guard. There’s no way to get to her,” he mutters dejectedly.

  “I’ll call Vojtech. Tell him I’m in town on business. Got a fighter I wanna try out before I take him back to Chicago. Take the guys with us,” Kieran says, planning quickly and convincing me even faster.

  “Make the call,” I order in a low rumble.

  “Who’s gonna be the fighter? You’re all a little too pretty to be believable,” Blake says to the room, finally looking around at all of us.

  “That’s what makes Brian such a good fighter. No one suspects someone that pretty can fuck up anyone that gets near him,” Kieran spouts confidently.

  “I’m comin’,” Kid announces.

  “No,” the room shouts, Blake included.

  “They won’t let you in with your piece,” Blake explains further.

  “I don’t need a gun to take a motherfucker out,” she enlightens him.

  “I believe you,” he responds with big eyes.

  Kieran barks out a laugh before climbing to his feet.

  “You’re not comin’, Shannon. I’d never have a woman with me for somethin’ like this. You’ll blow us. You can be the getaway driver if you want.”

  “Fine,” she growls.

  Kellerman dips his head to Kid’s ear and says something that pisses her off. She starts to protest and I see the typically laid-back man put his foot down. When he straightens himself, Kid grumbles, “I’ll stay here with the boys.”

  “Good,” the room agrees.

  “Fuck you,” she retorts.

  “I’m gonna make this call now,” Kieran says as he leaves the room for some privacy.

  “Is that Kieran Delaney?” Blake asks me.

  “Yeah. He’s my cousin. I called him a few hours ago to come help us out.”

  He shakes his head, disbelieving, but doesn’t say anything.

  We all fall silent waiting for Kieran to come back. Kid’s still scowling at her husband and he doesn’t give a shit. He’s not willing to put her in harm’s way ever again. None of us are.

  Kav and the guys are whispering amongst themselves, planning and plotting. A room full of attorneys and a surgeon. I guarantee you these men are scarier than any criminals we’ll encounter tonight. I’m at the top of that heap.

  I’m already preparing myself. I’m ready for a fight. I’m looking forward to beating on someone. I’ll pound every face that comes at me as long as Natasha’s safe in the end. I won’t fail her this time.

  Kid’s phone buzzes and she types, fingers flying.

  “Coopers just landed. There was an issue with the team Nicky called in to help. They won’t be here until tomorrow,” she informs the room, stuffing her phone in her pocket forcefully.

  “Kat can keep you company,” Finn says from the other side of the room.

  “Great,” Kid snarks back. “Two highly trained women can stay here while a bunch of untrained men go do the heavy lifting.”

  Kat Cooper is a retired DCA operative. Kid has been trained like a super assassin since she was eight years old by her Uncle Mick. So, Kid’s got a point, but I won’t agree with her on this one. I’ve got enough to worry about with Natasha I can’t add two more women I care about to the equation.

  “Kid,” Kav urges her to understand where we’re coming from.

  “Don’t, Kavy.” She pushes away from Kellerman’s grasp and stomps out of the room.

  “She’s scary,” Blake proclaims.

  “No shit,” we all agree.

  Kieran strides in not long after Kid leaves.

  “Shannon’s fuckin’ pissed off,” he informs us, plopping down on the couch next to me. “Fight’s set in two hours. You think they grabbed her this afternoon?”

  “Text came at two,” Finn answers.

  “He’ll still have her with him. Said the fights started two hours ago. That’s not enough time for him to put her somewhere and set up extra security. We got any idea why he took her?”

  “To get to me. I got a note sayin’ they were comin’ for her. I have something they want so they were takin’ somethin’ I want,” Blake seethes.

  “What do you have?” I snarl.

  “Nothin’. I don’t fuckin’ know what they’re talkin’ about. Somethin’ fucked up happened that night the baby showed up. I still can’t remember, but I didn’t have anything in the house. I went there first when I checked outta detox. They ransacked my place. They didn’t find what they want.”

  “With nothin’ to trade, other than you, we’re in a fuckin’ corner,” Kieran points out.

  “Trade me,” Blake insists.

  “Won’t work. They’ll kill her just to fuck with you.”

  “I can’t fuckin’ believe this. I’m nobody. I’m not even a dealer. I sell rarely. I don’t get it,” Blake huffs.

  “If they just wanted the baby back, they wouldn’t have taken Natasha and threatened you with it. They’re after somethin’ big,” I talk it out.

  “What?” Blake pleads with me to figure this out.

  “I’ll try to press Vojtech once we’re face to face. You guys’ll have to find Natasha on your own. I know you don’t want Kat and Shannon in on this, but they’re better trained for this than you are. We makin’ a mistake keepin’ ’em outta this?” Kieran asks the room.

  “We’ve got this. If fists are the only weapons we’re allowed, it’s best it’s us doin’ it,” Kav states plainly.

  “Okay,” Kieran responds easily. “You go warm up and get your head right. We’ll get a plan together. Finn, you try to get
us blueprints of the building while we work.”

  We all nod in agreement as I stand and amble out of the room, craving blood and pale grey eyes more with each step I take.

  Natasha

  I woke up a while ago. It’s completely devoid of light in this room so I have no idea how much time has passed. I didn’t sleep so much as pass out off and on. My most recent slumber seemed longer than the others. My adrenaline has worn off, leading to hunger and the need to relieve myself. I’ve been here a long time, alone and scared.

  I can hear something in the distance, thrumming deep bass. I feel like it may be music, but as soon as I think I recognize a rhythm it’s gone or changes. I don’t hear voices or babies crying. I don’t hear the men that took me. I only hear the muffled thunder beyond my reach.

  My hands are handcuffed to the wall at the same height as my head. I’m crouched in a ball against the cold cement wall. The floor is cracked, peeling tile. I can’t stand or lie down. I’m trapped in the same position I’ve been in since I was dragged here like an animal being led to slaughter.

  I’ve tried to think this through. Why I’m here. How I can escape. Where they took the baby. Who took me? But I keep coming back to one thought. I’m going to die.

  It’s not the first time in my life that I’ve had this thought. It is the first time I think it’s more likely to happen than not. If I’m going to die, I won’t go quietly. I’ll fight with everything I’ve got. It’s not much, but I refuse to be a victim. I’ll die knowing I did my best to work for my life. I owe myself that. I deserve that.

  As I begin to nod off again, a sliver of light appears in the distance. Then a door is pushed completely open to be instantly filled by a looming figure. The halo of light surrounding him is painful to look into so I shield my face in my arm, squinting tightly.

  “Miss Reynolds,” the same man that took me says coldly.

  I don’t look up at him, though after a few moments I can feel his presence only inches away from me.

  “Your brother hasn’t fulfilled his obligations. While that’s regretful, I feel you can be of some assistance.”

  He pauses for a long while. So long, I wonder what the hell he’s waiting for. I peer up from beneath my hiding spot to find out.

  He’s looking down at me like prey. The glint in his lifeless eyes tells me everything I need to know. I’m disposable. Nothing of significance.

  He’s close enough to me that I could kick him, but it wouldn’t gain me any advantage. So I decide to wait along with him. He must enjoy my decision because a small smirk ghosts across his face.

  “I need to send a message. You’ll be that message. You’ll be by my side and at my will until I decide you’re no longer required. If you can behave, I’ll allow you to live. If you do anything other than what I instruct, I’ll spend my nights with you. A few hours with me will make you wish you were never born. Do you understand?” he asks, lowering himself to eye level with me.

  My imagination is running wild and the look on his face tells me I can’t begin to formulate what’s going to happen to me. I’m going to die. His eyes assure me of that, without question. Do I want to be tortured…raped…brutalized before death claims me? No. But I want a chance to fight.

  “I understand,” I whisper.

  He raises his hand to my cheek and caresses the skin with the back of his rough fingers. I flinch at the contact and he laughs. If a witch cackles, the sound coming from him is a demon’s equivalent. I shudder as his hand continues to run down my arm until it reaches my confined wrist. Then he pauses. I was watching his movement and not his face. I quickly meet his gaze, nervous.

  “Let me be clear so there are no questions. Your brother will come for you. I’ll kill him. When I kill him, you’ll watch. While you watch, you’ll comprehend the consequences of disobeying me. If you’re considering trying to run or fight, stop. There’s nowhere for you to go. You have no one, other than your junkie brother and neglectful mother. Your dog was your best chance in this and he failed. I’ll make it hurt, Natasha. I promise you that. Convince me that you’ll do as you’re told,” he purrs the last part in my ear at the same time squeezing the handcuffs tighter. As the metal digs into my skin, I remain still. Tears stream down my cheeks from the overwhelming agony.

  Not from my injuries. From my heart being ripped from my chest.

  I take my punishment. I’m being tormented for loving someone who doesn’t love himself. I love my brother enough to take whatever this monster wants to dole out. Blake will come for me and when he does, I’ll fight with the same ferocity that he’s always used fighting for me. We’ll die together. If I’m going to die, I’ll do it battling for my family.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs into my hair before unlocking my wrists from the handcuffs.

  I slump and cradle my hands to my chest. There are no broken bones, but there will be bruises. He stands and holds his hand out to me. I consider my limited options before climbing to my feet on my own.

  Before I’m aware he’s moving, he pins me against the wall, squeezing my injured flesh painfully in his hands near my hips. His body is smashed against mine, making it difficult to breathe the labored breaths rattling in my chest.

  “First and last warning,” he snarls in my face.

  I nod shakily. He leans into me harder and increases the pressure on my wrists.

  “I’m being nice. I won’t be if you do something like that again.”

  “Okay,” I squeak out, barely able to get the words out of my lungs.

  “Convince me,” he orders.

  Then he smashes his mouth to mine. I want to fight, push him off me. I want to rip his lips from his face with my teeth. This is a test of my amenability. If I don’t respond, he’s going to hurt me. So I do the only thing I can. I pretend he’s Sully and I kiss him back.

  I work my lips against his and envision Sully’s hot sweet lips caressing mine. When he releases my wrists and threads his hands around my lower back, I fist his shirt just as I fisted Sully’s leather jacket. As a groan of appreciation rumbles from his chest, I moan in return, hearing Sully’s baritone. He slants his head and forces his tongue in my mouth, and I remember Sully teasingly requesting entry as I allow it. While he plunders my mouth, marking me in a bruising assault, I feel Sully passionately drinking from my mouth as though I was the most magnificent thing he’d ever savored.

  Sully tried to scare me away with his kiss. Instead, he gave me a sanctuary to hide within.

  The man pulls away from me, resting his forehead against mine, intimately.

  “Did you like that?” he whispers, continuing the intimacy.

  “Yes,” I say softly, still in the haze of Sully.

  He believes me. I know he does because he adjusts his erection when I say it and then tenderly brushes his lips against mine. The haze is almost completely gone when he moves away from me, threads his fingers with mine and tugs gently for me to follow. I do. I’ll follow him until I see a way to escape and then I’ll run with everything my legs have.

  Unfortunately, there are no exits as he pulls me through a long, poorly lit hallway. The flickering fluorescents make me feel dizzier than I already am. My legs tremble as he guides me into an old service elevator. He throws the lever and it jerkily begins to climb after he pulls down the rickety gate. I want to remove myself from his grasp, but he pulls me beneath his arm and begins to feast on the soft flesh of my neck.

  “Natasha?” he murmurs into skin.

  “Yes?” I whisper shakily, showing my fear.

  At the quiver of my voice, he lifts his head to peer down at me. His midnight eyes flick over my face, searching for something. I absorb his perusal and attempt not to tremor.

  The dragon tattoo on his neck seems alive and fluid on his skin. With every tick of his pulse and draw of breath, the dragon expands and contracts. I’m mesmerized by the sight as much as I am terrified. Is it the drops of ink beneath his tan flesh that has caused the blackness within him or was it the bl
ackness that spawned the winged seed?

  “I expect what you gave me in the basement,” his gruff voice pulls my gaze back to his.

  “I understand,” I whisper.

  The elevator squeals and whines to a halt as we stare at each other. I’m terrified and he’s empowered. The distribution is equal and reactive.

  “What should I call you?” I ask tentatively, not knowing if I’m allowed to ask questions or speak without provocation.

  “Roman,” he breathes across my lips. “Say it.”

  “Roman,” I gasp as he smashes my body flush with his, roughly palming my ass.

  “Again,” he demands, glowering.

  He wants submission. He wants soft and sweet. He wants what I have no idea how to give him. I don’t surrender. I don’t submit. I don’t relinquish the power I worked my ass off to gain. Until now.

  This is not the real world. I have no power here. I already submitted. I’ve given him every demand and bowed to his commands. But he can’t touch my strength. I’ll hold it close to my heart and when I can, I’ll unleash it.

  “Roman,” I say softly, offering him everything I can.

  “When I’m inside you tonight, I want to hear you say my name just like that,” he purrs before pressing his lips to mine.

  I’m back with Sully the instant he touches me. I never should have let Sully win that day in his backyard. I could be wrapped up with him somewhere warm and safe instead of here, being dry humped by a stranger that will kill me sooner or later.

  “Boss,” a low voice barks, breaking our kiss.

  “What?” Roman snarls, uncurling from my body.

  “Kieran Delaney’s on the phone,” the man replies.

  Roman extends a hand behind him and quickly swings that hand, phone in palm, up to his face. With his free hand, he interlaces our fingers and leads me out of the elevator down another exit-less hallway. I look for the man that just interacted with Roman but find we’re alone again.

  I ignore Roman’s conversation. I don’t know anyone named Kieran Delaney and based on the smug look on Roman’s face when he was informed who was on the phone, Kieran’s worse news that Roman is.

  When we get to a door at the end of a ridiculously long hallway, Roman eases me against the wall and holds me in place, arm fully extended and his hand against my chest. His face is turned away from me as he makes some kind of deal. I try to steady my breathing as I become concerned the phone call could be about me. What if Roman’s plans for me are to serve me up to his crime friends like a buffet special of the day? I may have just signed up for more brutality than I ever dreamt possible in life. And I’ve spent a life being fed violent dreams. I’m no longer being fed dreams. I’m now surviving a nightmare.