Blackness Within (The Blackness Series Book 5)

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  His hazel eyes slowly rise and meet Natasha’s before he responds, “My sister was killed by a drunk driver. I do a lot with Students Against Destructive Decisions. I’m also involved with Bikers for Babies.”

  All the pissed off posturing is gone. Fixed with one question from my stunning woman.

  I can tell Cara’s holding his hand beneath the table, supporting her boyfriend as best she can.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your sister, Colton. I’ve always supported Bikers for Babies with donations. Do you ride?” Natasha asks. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  “What’s Bikers for Babies?” I ask and see most of the eyes around the table thanking me.

  “It’s an event for the March of Dimes every year. Thousands of bikers raise money and ride. Last year we raised six hundred thousand dollars. I rode for the first time two years ago,” Colton explains with pride.

  Maybe Colton can hang around for a while.

  “Yup!” Kid announces, standing up. “Colton’s on my team. Get ready to have your ass handed to you Kavanagh. Couples versus singles is the name of the game people.”

  “That’s jacked up, Kid,” Kav grumbles, realizing he just lost some good players in Cooper, Kellerman, Kieran and me.

  “You’re just sad because you’re gonna lose to a bunch of girls.”

  He doesn’t respond as we all finish our meal and clean up for the game. Butch excuses himself to go spend the rest of the holiday with Mia. She’s still coming out of her coma. She’s awake now more than unconscious. They’ve started therapy to relearn pretty much everything. It’s going to be a long road to recovery with her, but the specialists are optimistic.

  Up in our room, Natasha and I are getting ready to change for the annual football game. We’re competitive as a family, but at the end of the day, it’s fun.

  My parents are in the guest room doing something, when I hear Nat King Cole’s “Because You’re Mine” filtering through the door.

  I walk up behind Natasha in the closet and wrap my hands around her waist before spinning her to face me.

  “It’s time for our first dance.”

  “I don’t know how,” she says nervously, trying to pull away.

  “I’ve got you.”

  I back out of the closet slowly playing up the drama and then I spin her two times before pulling her close to my chest. With a hand at the small of her back and the other cradling her palm against my chest, I move. I lead her around our room in simple movements that she can follow. Humming along, staring into her tornadic greys that are a constant beam of love and adoration, I feel it. I feel the blackness within me moving to the background. It’s allowing the glow this woman offers me to take over, to bathe me in light.

  She smiles as we sway and turn, listening to words that describe a love we share. I push her out and spin her a few times. She giggles when I bring her back, shimmering from every surface of her skin.

  With her in my arms, nothing bad can touch us. The world will always hold some form of danger and blackness. Together, we can conquer anything. And I’ll spend a lifetime proving it.

  “Love you, Grey,” I murmur against her lips.

  “Love you, Sully,” she whispers back.

  I kiss the woman I love breathless for the thousandth time and let Nat play us out.

  “Because you’re mine.”

  O’Sullivan

  January

  It’s been a year to the day since I ended up on Natasha’s porch. I’m sure she knows it’s been a year, but she hasn’t uttered a word about it. She’s back in all her glory, even better than before. The light shining from her is almost blinding to look at. It’s an immaculate sight to behold. She doesn’t need to talk about the blackness she’s worked herself free from. I don’t either.

  Kav pulls up in front of the hospital and I spy her platinum ponytail swishing from side to side as she laughs at the man in scrubs she’s talking to.

  “I never thought I’d say this,” Kav grumbles. “You need to put a ring on that.”

  “Kinda disappointed you haven’t already, man,” Cal pipes in from the passenger’s seat.

  I don’t respond. They think I’m moving too slowly with Natasha. Kid told me to stop being a pussy last week. Kellerman said it was time I located my balls this weekend. Kieran told me I’m a fucking idiot yesterday. My mom keeps asking if there’s anything I need to tell her when we talk.

  They don’t know. I haven’t told them. I’ve got this.

  While I know how this whole thing will play out, watching her dazzling smile pointed at another man that’s solely focused on her tits makes me see red. I unfold from the backseat and prowl toward my woman.

  “Grey,” I growl fiercely as I approach.

  Scrub boy looks as scared as he should be when his gaze leaves my woman’s tits and finds my scowl.

  “Hey,” she responds spinning to face me.

  I pull her to me by her ass and attack her mouth, marking her with force. She allows it, leans into it. When my point’s been proven and she’s struggling to breathe, I pull away and lock eyes with her admirer.

  “Say goodbye to your friend,” I order in her ear.

  “See you tomorrow, Sam,” she calls over her shoulder.

  I stare him down as I push Natasha behind me, encouraging her to go to the SUV. I tip my lips in a cocky smirk and shake my head no at him. He gets it. He scurries away when he does.

  I follow Natasha and help her in the SUV before climbing in behind her.

  “That was unnecessary,” she grumbles clicking her seatbelt.

  “No,” Kav, Cal and I respond in unison.

  She rolls her eyes at us as I interlace our fingers. We joke and laugh all the way home, comfortable and easy. When we get to our house, I drag her through it without allowing her to be engulfed by the kids and the family. I’ll never get her alone if I don’t stop it before it starts.

  “Sully,” she protests as I drag her up the stairs.

  “Not tonight, Grey,” I mutter as we arrive at our wing.

  I’m excited. I’ve been waiting for this moment for three and a half years. I didn’t know it then, but I was. I found my worthy place in life.

  I push the door open and pull Natasha through, her eyes on the bag she’s digging through. I drop her hand and step aside to let her figure out what’s happening.

  “I have something I need—”

  Her lips stop moving as she takes in our wing. It’s pitch black other than the soft light I left on in our room. I move to the table and light the candle sitting in the middle. Natasha’s not moving, she’s barely breathing when I grab her hand and tug her to the table’s edge.

  I pull her bag off her shoulder and then I cup her cheeks, forcing her tornadic greys to mine.

  “A year ago today I laid eyes on the only woman I wanted to see for the rest of my days. There was a blackness within me then. But when I saw you, held you, comforted you in my arms, it faded to the background.”

  I reach over and light another candle before returning to hold her face.

  “There was a light emanating from you that captured my heart.”

  I light another candle.

  “There was a glow radiating that stole my breath.”

  I light another.

  “There was a spark that shocked my soul.”

  Another.

  “There was a shimmer that shook my resolve.”

  Another.

  “There was a beam that pulled me to you and never let go.”

  I light six more until the table is covered in flames that don’t do her justice. One for every month I’ve been dedicated to her.

  “I would have to fly us to the surface of the sun to find the brightness you fill me with. You make every moment of my life better. You make my world an easier place to live. You make my victories more victorious and my failures less painful. You make me feel worthy. For the first time in my life I feel worthy of every single thing I have. You gave me that.”
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  I sink down to one knee and keep my eyes locked on her stormy grey eyes as they stream tears down her soft cheeks. I cradle one hand as I retrieve the black velvet box from my pocket. I flip it open and ask, “Will you allow me to be worthy enough to be your husband?”

  A large sob breaks from her chest as her free hand covers her mouth. I wait. I wait for the gravity of this moment to settle around the woman I love.

  She takes a few breaths before dropping her hand and clearing her throat.

  “I don’t have to allow you to be worthy, Sully. You’re worthy enough to be my husband all on your own because you love me like no one else ever has. Nothing would make me happier than being your wife,” she says proudly.

  I leap to my feet and crush my mouth to hers. I kiss her with more love and passion than I ever have as tears continue to fall down her cheeks onto my thumbs, swiping as I caress her tongue. I touch every surface, swallow every moan and drink in the adoration.

  When I stop the kiss, she’s breathless and glowing all on her own without the candles illuminating her.

  “Can I finally put this on you?” I ask, picking up the ring I discarded on the table.

  “Finally?” she questions as she offers me her delicate hand.

  “I’ve had this a long time,” I tell her as I slide the massive rock over her knuckle.

  It’s the biggest diamond her finger has held and I relish the sight.

  “How long?” she asks, staring at the ice skating rink.

  “Since the car crash,” I whisper.

  Her eyes flick to mine as she stifles a gasp.

  “I knew, Grey. There was no question. My future was with you. Even though you had been stolen from me, I knew my life was with you. I left the hospital and bought this.”

  “Sully…that’s…I don’t know…I…” she trails off in a huff not being able to find the words. I love it.

  “I love you,” I murmur against her lips before pressing a soft kiss there.

  “I love you,” she responds tenderly.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” she says tentatively.

  Her hands begin to shake and her eyes leave mine. She’s nervous. This is not the moment for her to be nervous. I cup her face again and stare into her eyes, offering her strength and comfort with my loving gaze.

  “Grey, whatever you need to say…don’t be nervous. I never want you uncomfortable in our life together. I’ve got you.”

  “Us,” she says in a tone so hushed I barely catch it.

  Then her ring-covered hand spreads across her belly.

  Her belly.

  I drop to my knees and feverishly hike up her shirt, yanking her hips toward me. I press my lips against her soft skin as her fingers thread into my hair.

  This is it. The moment where my life bursts at the seams with perfection. I’m worthy of this experience. I’m worthy of this love. I’m worthy enough to be a husband. I’m worthy enough to be a father.

  I’m worthy.

  Blackness Within is the most difficult book I’ve written to date. Writing this story put me in a dark place…a blackness. I had to be there in order to bring the characters to life, but it was hard for me.

  I have to thank my husband first and foremost for hanging in there with me while I toiled through this book. My never-ending soft place to fall was even more supportive than I thought he could be. When I write about love, I don’t have to make up or fictionalize how it feels, I experience it every day. And I’m grateful for that with every breath I take. I love you.

  I finally made it back to my hometown this summer when I began writing this book. My mother and my brother played a huge role in the inspiration for characters in this story. I drew from them while we spent time together, laughing and bickering. I know unconditional love because I have them in my life. Thank you both for sticking with me in the bad times and making the good times even better. Love you so damn much.

  Without my children, I wouldn’t have made it to the end of this book. When I needed a break from the blackness they provided me with blinding light. I see clearly when I look at them. I feel better when I experience life through their little worlds. Everything I do is with them in my heart. I love you, boys…endlessly.

  Best friend isn’t the word I should use to describe you, Chris. Something along the lines of the mirror to my soul seems fitting. When my life was in utter despair and under threat of sweeping me away with it, you brought me back. Decades later, you’re still that person in my life. My lifeline. You make it easier to breathe. I can’t tell you how much I love you because there aren’t words to convey how I feel. But know, without you, I couldn’t do this and I wouldn’t want to.

  Those who know me, will be aware that I don’t have female friends. I never really have. I have the best one in the world now. Amanda, you rock me to the core. You dragged my ass out of a funk countless times during this book. Without you, there is no Blackness Within. You scream my praises from the rooftops louder than any other voice in the world and it touches me. Sharing my life with you is a joy, filling a void I didn’t realize my heart had. Thank you for being my friend. I appreciate you more than you know and love you beyond that.

  Ellie, you did it again. You took my vague mutterings and turned them into art. I write the words, but you give them a place to live. Friday chats and endless laughter, make being your friend an even more rewarding experience. Love you, lady.

  My street team is the best. They champion me with loud trumpets at every turn. Super fans with passion for my writing. I love talking to you about my characters. They come to life with you. I can’t wait to see where we go from here!

  Finally, to my readers. Thank you for taking the time read my books, spending your money on my work and a chance on me. I started this journey a year ago and never expected to be where I am. I’m here because of you and the risks you take with me. I hope to keep giving you stories and characters you love. Please keep writing me and chatting with me. I love hearing what you have to say. You all have made my dream come true. Thank you so much!

  Escaping the Blackness

  A Cooper Brothers Novel

  Winter 2014

  Mugs of Love

  A fresh serving of Contemporary Romance

  Winter 2014

  Keep reading for a sneak peek

  Blackness Takes Over

  Blackness Awaits

  Shrouded in Blackness

  Into the Blackness

  This is my favorite part. Her face is a mask of pure bliss. It’s not fake or forced; it’s natural and genuine. I draw on the warmth every day, no matter if I’m sweating from hundred degree temperatures or freezing in the winter’s bitter cold. Because even if it’s sweltering or frigid, I’m numb inside. An unfeeling being, moving through the world interacting with few and feeling nothing.

  Watching Emily Garner is my one enjoyment in life. I feel when I look at her. I’ve never spoken to her or entered her shop, but I watch her daily from mine. I own a custom furniture store. Everything sold in my store is built with my hands. It’s fulfilling, strenuous and satisfying. I wish it brought me joy, but it doesn’t. It does occupy my mind and that’s a necessity.

  “You starin’ again?” Clyde’s overly southern deep drawl pulls me away from my moment of warmth.

  “Fuck off,” I grunt and move back to sanding the simple country-style cabinets for a kitchen remodel I’m working on.

  “Just go talk to the girl, Garrett.”

  I shake my head and continue my work. I’m not much for conversation, but this one is definitely not one I’m having. Keeping my head down, I concentrate on the grain of the red oak, smoothing and gliding across it. The rhythm pulls me under and I forget Clyde.

  He’s a good man. Always trying to help the kid with nothing, from a double wide in a trailer park in the urban hellhole of Independence. He knew my father, did a nickel with him when they were in their late twenties. Clyde got out of the life after that and my dad didn’t. Instead, he gr
oomed me to take over Clyde’s spot.

  I’m good. I can boost a car in thirty seconds, pocket your wallet with a insignificant bump, pick a lock with my eyes closed and handle a gun when necessary. I started working with my dad when I was twelve. By the time I was eighteen, I was the one my dad was working for. He wasn’t much of a leader, and I’m dominant by nature, so the roles fit us well. Until four years later when they didn’t.

  One night gone wrong and my father’s doing life for murder and I found out there’s something more valuable than the loyalty of family. Plea deals. I served eight of my fifteen-year sentence. I was a model prisoner and overcrowding lessened my time.

  Clyde was waiting outside the prison for me and brought me here to quaint, quiet Bluffside. I opened this shop a few weeks later and haven’t looked back. There’s nothing to look back at and not much to look forward to. I’m free, so there’s that.

  I finish the last cabinet and swing my gaze out the small panes of glass at the end of my workshop. The store is connected to it, but I spend most of my time in here.

  Emily’s closing up her shop, as I watch her. I always get to see her lock-up because the coffee shop closes at three o’clock. I don’t blame her for shutting down early since her day starts at the crack of dawn. She never looks tired though. Her sandy blonde hair is always up, but as the day goes on, pieces fall around her perfect face. I’ve never seen them up close, but her eyes are light. Green, I imagine. Never a stitch of make-up on her face, because she doesn’t fucking need it. Her nose slopes elegantly and her mouth is broad, full-lipped. Those damn cheeks kill me every time. They’re soft and creamy, the left one sporting a long dimple. Not the kind that pinches in, the kind that creases when she beams.

  Then there’s her body. She’s the reason cavemen chiseled on walls. I was lucky enough to open my store in June and witness Emily’s form in a tank top and shorts for the entire summer. I spent a lot of time with a semi. Still do. Her skin is smooth and unblemished. I’m a man, so of course my gaze falls to her tits. They’re well beyond a handful, and I’ve got massive hands. Her waist nips in only to flare out to rounded hips, flowing down to long slender legs. I want them wrapped around me. I can almost feel her heels digging into my ass as I watch her sway away, waving at residents as she goes.