Blackness Awaits

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  “I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper.

  “About?” I ask curtly.

  “Him sayin’ that shit to you. Him tryin’ to touch you. You havin’ to kill him on your own.” His tone is disbelieving, like I should know he’s sorry for all of that.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he won’t be the last before this is through.” I give him an accusatory glare and then turn my face back to the mattress.

  “I wasn’t done in the bathroom,” Nicky’s voice is stronger and sounding more pissed.

  “Great. You wanna try your hand with me in there? I feel like my chances are pretty good at this point. One down a few more to go,” I snark into the mattress. If I could eat a meal I’d feel better about my threat. I’m sure I’ve been here more than a day with no food and no water. I should have drunk some of the bath water.

  “Shanny, I need you to look at me,” Nicky demands. I make no such effort. Fuck him and his band of raping torturing brothers. He lets out a defeated sigh.

  “My name is Nick Cooper. I’m an undercover agent with the Domestic Crime Agency. I’ve been workin’ undercover in the Mancini Crime Family since I was twenty-one. I’m here to keep you safe and get you home,” he dictates forcefully. Okay that got my attention. I pivot my head and study his face. There’s no waver or lie there, just his sad sapphire eyes.

  “Are you schizophrenic?” I ask concerned. He barks out a loud laugh before smiling at me.

  “No. I’m both the things I told you. The one I just told you is the real me and the first is my cover. You need to know both because while we’re here I need to be Scarso. If they suspect anything is goin’ on other that what’s supposed to be, we’ll both be in danger. That’s why I acted the way I did earlier. He had to think I was the same old torturing murdering Scar.”

  “You forgot raping,” I accuse harshly. Nicky quickly divests himself of his chair, leaning onto the bed his face inches away from mine.

  “I have never in my life touched a woman that didn’t want it,” he growls.

  “What, no doesn’t mean no to you? Does it just mean try harder?”

  “Jesus Christ you have a mouth. If I was what you seem to think I am what do you think mouthin’ off like that would buy you?” Nicky slams his body back down into his chair glowering at me. My mouth can’t seem to stop itself. I need to shut up.

  “I don’t know, Nicky. I’m new to this world of rape and torture. I’d hate to give you a wrong answer. I’ve learned what that gets me.” Okay apparently I can’t shut up.

  “I’m gonna stop this before it gets outta hand for no reason. I’m NOT a fuckin’ rapist. I had to leave you in the tub because I have to maintain my cover if I’m gonna keep us both alive. I’m sorry you had to defend yourself and that won’t happen again while you’re here. The team has been informed that you are to be left alone at all times and they won’t disobey.” He rakes his hand through his hair again before finishing his thought.

  “I talked to my uncle and he filled me in and didn’t all the same. The team here now has ten guys plus me. You and I have taken out two. If bodies keep stacking up we’ll have problems so that needs to stop. What he didn’t tell me is that there is a lookout team nearby as well as another grab team. He won’t tell me because he’s paranoid, as he should be, that if someone knows the locations of all the teams they can get you out.

  “There’s no cell service or internet here only a tapped landline so I can’t get word to the DCA. I called into the agency that I was takin’ a job but didn’t have the location to give them. One of the team met me five miles out and I followed them here with no cell service the whole way. They’ve locked this shit down makin’ it damn near impossible for me to pull you out. The only way out is to find what they want before they can get their hands on it. My uncle told me that there’s a safe deposit box in your name that he needs access to with a key and a password. Said you already gave them the password but not the key. Do you know where it is?”

  “I don’t know where the key is. I didn’t know the box even existed until I got here,” I say softly. He’s telling me the truth. Nicky’s not here to hurt me, he’s here to rescue me or at least keep me safe.

  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s get you fed so you can rest and I can research,” Nicky says picking up a bowl from the floor.

  “You won’t let anyone else hurt me right?” I need confirmation.

  “No one will hurt you,” he states pinning me with a confident gaze. Relief washes over me.

  “I’m sure you’re hungry. I’ve got some broth to feed you.” He motions to the bowl and spoons me up a bite. I gingerly push up on my elbows and open my mouth to take a small taste of the warm liquid. Good.

  “Thank you,” I say softly. He smiles and offers me another bite. I take a little more this time.

  “You’re good with weapons?” he asks in a curious tone.

  “I am,” I tell him honestly. I take another bite. Who knew chicken broth could be so satisfying?

  “Do you have a favorite?”

  “Firearms. I enjoy knifes too. I can do some damage with a bat. I’ve trained with pipes, tire irons, crowbars…lots of unintentional weapons. I prefer a gun over anything though.”

  “How’d that happen?”

  “My Uncle Mick that raised me after my dad died and my mom took off. He was a Navy SEAL. He put a gun in my hand one day after I hadn’t spoken in a month. I hit the target on my first shot and was born again. That .22 brought me back to life,” I explain with a fondness in my voice, not for the gun but for Uncle Mick. It wasn’t that rifle that brought me back, he did and he’s still keeping me alive today.

  I finish off the broth and down a bottle of water.

  “You doin’ all right after what happened in the bathroom?” Nicky eyes me cautiously.

  “Another thing Uncle Mick taught me was to control my reactions to things. That guy was gonna hurt me. I hurt him first. I don’t feel anything but numb about it. I’m a bit of a heartless robot when it comes to situations like that. You slittin’ that guy’s throat in front of me didn’t faze me either.” Making sure I connect firmly with his gaze, he relents after a few moments.

  “There are cameras all over this room, Shanny. I turn off the feeds when I’m in here but when I’m not they’ll be on at all times and I won’t leave the monitors for a second. I’ll have eyes on you at all times. Once the team finds out you ended Bruno in the bathtub, I’m guessin’ they’ll stay away.” He flashes me a big smile. “I promise I’ll keep you safe,” Nicky finishes emphatically.

  “I believe you, Nicky,” I respond quietly.

  “I didn’t know they had you. If I’d known they were comin’ for you I woulda stopped it.” His voice is clear and sincere. I wish he would have known. I nod my head and close my eyes. I’m completely exhausted from the past few hours of absolute crazy.

  “I’ll be back soon to talk. Get some rest,” he coos. I don’t respond as I’m shut away in blackness, feeling a little safer.

  I see a figure standing over the space where my window used to be. I smile; he’s going to save us.

  Pop, pop.

  I go limp…My chest hurts…I’m sleepy.

  The fireworks have stopped and I hear sirens. The fire is getting bigger. I want my Daddy. I’m cold and my arms are moving slowly, but I try one more time on my belt. I push the button and pull on the belt as hard as I can, falling on top of him as it lets me go. I curl around him and say…

  “Daddy, please wake up.” My voice is small and shaky. I push on his face trying to wake him up. The fire is getting bigger and the smoke is getting darker. He coughs and blood comes out of his mouth. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me into his chest, it’s making gurgling sounds.

  “Shanny,” he rasps. “Tell Uncle Mick we had a nice meal.” Daddy’s really hurt and not making any sense.

  “Daddy, there’s a fire. I’m cold.” I start to shake from head to toe, hard.

  “Tell Uncle Mick, Shann
y. I’m so sorry baby. I love you,” Daddy says and closes his eyes.

  “I love you too, Daddy,” I whisper and close my eyes. I’m tired.

  I wake up to someone touching me with rough leathery hands.

  “Got one!” a voice screams and starts pulling on me, pulling me away from Daddy. I cling to his jacket but his arms aren’t holding me anymore.

  “Come on sweetheart. I’ve got you,” the voice says.

  “No! I want my Daddy!” I cry and hold on tighter. I’m shaking harder now and I can’t keep my eyes open.

  “I’ll get your Daddy next. Let’s get you outta here.” He pulls my hands away from Daddy’s jacket and lifts me out of the car. I look back down at him. Daddy’s sleeping.

  I wake up screaming, a bloodcurdling scream, sweating and shivering at the same time. No. That can’t be. I haven’t been able to remember that conversation for over twenty-two years. It was so real I can still smell the burning oil, feel the smoke choking my lungs…I’m going to throw up. I scramble off the bed and empty my stomach on the floor. Well I try to empty my stomach, but I just wretch and dry heave. The door flies open and Nicky rushes in toward me. I’m naked on all fours on the floor.

  I fly back onto my ass, scurrying toward the wall at my back curling my legs in front of me to shield myself. My whole backside is shrieking with pain as I collide with the wall, maintaining eye contact with Nicky the whole time.

  “Shanny, calm down,” he commands softly approaching me with caution. I’m shaking hard and feel my stomach turning again. “Let me help you get back in bed.”

  I don’t respond I just sit in this spot quivering and running through the dream over and over. An arm reaches under my knees and behind my back as I’m lifted into the bed. I stay in a ball on my side convulsing violently, my mind in a haze. A heavy blanket covers me and I feel the bed dip. Nicky sits behind me in silence until my quaking stops and my breathing slows.

  “It was just a dream. You’re okay,” Nicky soothes from behind me. Oh no I’m fucking not!

  “I’m so far from okay I don’t even know what that means,” I whisper harshly. “It wasn’t a dream. It was a fuckin’ memory I haven’t been able to have in twenty-two years.”

  “What kind of memory?”

  “The day I died.”

  Kellerman

  Sully Sr. called the FBI this morning. Kid’s been gone forty-eight hours now and we’ve been pushed from the case. No more files to go through or hiding behind the monotony of reading them. We’ve all been interviewed and re-interviewed and then again by different agents. They’ve decided not to announce her disappearance to the media yet fearing it could further endanger her life. The guys batted around the idea that this has something to do with Liam but once they talked it through they squashed that idea. We’re back to square one at this point and I’m losing hope. I won’t survive this. I can’t survive without her.

  “Dylan, come eat some dinner,” Maggie calls softly. I’ve been sitting in the Callaghan’s sunroom since the FBI got here.

  “I’m not hungry,” I respond without looking at her.

  “You haven’t eaten today. My daughter needs you strong and healthy so get your ass up and come eat!” she yells. I turn and look at her. She’s mad, not mad at me, but I’m a convenient outlet.

  “I’m not hungry, Maggie. Thanks for the offer though.” She moves toward me and grabs my chin roughly.

  “You do NOT get to give up. She’s fightin’ out there somewhere and you’ll fight here for her. Get in that kitchen and eat some food or I’ll…” She stops and a sob breaks from her throat. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her next to me on the floral sofa. I hold her in my arms as sobs wrack her body with violent force. We sit like that a long time until she calms down a bit, still shuddering and sucking breaths. She clutches onto my shirt still, clinging to me like I’m a life preserver saving her from the waves of sorrows trying to drag her down.

  “Don’t give up, Dylan. Please don’t,” she whimpers into my chest.

  “I’ll never give up. Not until I know there’s nothing left to fight for. I promise you that,” I murmur into her dark hair. Maggie tips her head up pulling off her glasses to wipe her tears away. I offer her a slight smile before loosening my grip from around her shoulders.

  “Thank you. I needed that. Sorry I yelled at you, that…I…well…” she stutters.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I meet her gaze to let her know that I’m fine. She can scream and cry at me as much as she wants. I don’t mind seeing the release. I wish I could find my own actually. She lays her head on my chest again and we sit in silence as the sun sets on another day without the love of my life in my arms…instead I hold her mother as she silently weeps for her missing daughter.

  Maggie eventually cries herself to sleep as I cradle her. O’Sullivan comes into the sunroom and carries his broken mother outside so Collin can drive her home. When O’Sullivan comes back in the house; him, the whole Callaghan trio and Kav cautiously enter the sunroom. They silently fill the floral seats around me but none of us tries to talk, we just sit.

  My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out to see Cassie calling. I don’t really want an audience for this conversation, yet I don’t want to be alone (I’m a pussy).

  “Hello?” I answer briskly.

  “Dylan?”

  “Hey Cassie,” I reply softly.

  “Dylan, I’ve been meanin’ to call you. We need to talk about something important. You think you could fly home this weekend?” Is she fucking kidding?

  “Look Cassie, I’m dealing with some crazy shit right now. I know you’re pregnant. Is it mine?” She’s sobbing now. FUCK!

  “D-Dy-Dylan, I’m-I’m just…God,” she snuffs into the phone. Okay that was not my finest moment. It’s not her fault I’m in this hell right now. I need to keep it together.

  “Don’t cry. Everything will be fine, promise,” I soothe into the phone. I glance around to see the guys all eyeing me curiously.

  “I’m sorry,” she chokes into the phone trying to calm herself. “This is just a lot.” I wait to respond until her sobs quiet.

  “I know. Can you answer my question now? You calmed down enough?”

  “I don’t know, Dylan?” she whispers.

  “Don’t know what? Don’t know if you’re calmed down enough or don’t know if it’s mine?” An important distinction I think. She’s blubbering again. Girls cry and men freak. We’ll do anything to make that sound stop. But I can’t do anything to make her stop and worse, I don’t care that she’s crying (I’m officially an asshole of the highest order). All I can think of is Kid being tortured and never letting a tear slide down her buttermilk skin. She wouldn’t.

  “I don’t know if you’re the father,” she stutters out between sobs.

  “Okay, Cass. I know this is gonna sound harsh but hear me out. I’m not gonna be around until you find out. My girlfriend is at the top of my priority list right now and she’ll stay there until I have a child to replace her position,” I say as kindly as I can.

  “Yeah, that was harsh. Well, if we find out the baby’s yours will you come home?” she asks with a small amount of glee at the thought.

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there, Cassie,” I respond. No fucking way is that happening. I’m not leaving Kid. I’ll make it work somehow. “How long ’til you can find out?” I have no clue about this shit.

  “I would have to have an amniocentesis or another thing called a CVS, if we wanted to find out while I’m pregnant. They’re both dangerous for the baby so I don’t wanna do them. I guess we have to wait until I have the baby,” she explains clinically.

  “I don’t wanna have to wait until the baby’s born to find out,” I say a little short.

  “Well I don’t wanna lose the baby. I wanna keep it. I’m pretty sure it’s yours anyway. I think you should come home and we can talk about it,” she says with no emotion. Where are the tears from a few minutes ago?

&
nbsp; “Not happenin’, Cass. I’m in the middle of some shit right now.” I’m getting shorter with each response.

  “Shit more important than your child?” she scoffs. Wow, and so the manipulation begins. I knew she’d get here. It’s her thing. Sweet and soft with you until you’re lulled into a sense of safety then, bam, she hits you with the manipulative crazy shit. This is why we’re not together. This is why I should have stayed the fuck away from her. Maybe Kid could get me custody if the baby’s mine? That thought turns my stomach. What if Kid isn’t around to help…no I can’t go there. I need to get off the phone and figure out a way to find Kid regardless of the FBI being involved.

  “If I knew it was my child we could have this conversation. We don’t, so we’re not. I need to get off here. Cassie, please do right by this baby. No matter if it’s mine or not, do right by this baby,” I implore.

  “Dylan, what’s goin’ on? You’re freakin’ me out a little,” she sounds human again.

  “I’m just busy. I really need to go. Remember what I said,” I remind her gently. “Bye Cass.” I hang up before she can respond.

  The eyes in the sunroom are still on me.

  “Say what you gotta say guys,” I instruct. Let’s get this over with.

  “Doesn’t know if it’s yours?” Kav’s first out of the blocks.

  “No.”

  “She keepin’ it?” O’Sullivan’s next.

  “Yes.”

  “She pushin’ you to go back to Seattle?” Cal chimes in.

  “Yes.”

  “Convinced it’s yours?” Finn joins the chorus.

  “Yes.”

  “Refusin’ to do the amnio and CVS?” Aidan’s last to join twenty questions.

  “Yes.”

  “Trap!” the five of them yell in unison. We all chuckle at that. First time I’ve laughed in days. It hurts.

  “Seriously, when we get Kid back, she’ll figure it out. It’s her thing,” O’Sullivan suggests.

  “Don’t really wanna drop this at her feet after what she’s been through,” I say softly. I can’t imagine her wanting to deal with my shit, much less help, after whatever horror she’s enduring.