Blackness Awaits

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  “I came over the next afternoon sometime. When Brian answered the door he looked sick. He didn’t say anything to me just walked to a bedroom. I followed behind him thinkin’ he wanted privacy. Walked in the room and there she was, Kavanagh wrapped around her back and Callaghan wrapped around her legs. I could see Brian had been in front of her and was anxious to get back.” He stops telling his story to signal for another drink. I could use a fucking drink, but I won’t do that right now. Kieran gets his whiskey and quickly throws it down his throat not reacting to the burn. He puts the glass back on the table and studies it hard for a few minutes.

  “I’ve been a fighter as long as I can remember. Brian’s been a fighter as long as I can remember too. We’ve both kicked the shit outta a lot of people, never fazed me. I can walk away from a fight and never look back at the man I’ve beaten bloody or worse. But when I saw her face swollen and disfigured, her fingers and knuckles scabbed from fightin’, her body bruised and broken…that shit fazed me. There she was surrounded by these giant ass kickin’ dudes sleepin’ peacefully givin’ them as much comfort as they were givin’ her. Shit rocked my blackened soul to the core.

  “I just stood there for a few minutes starin’ at Shannon before Brian crawled back in bed with her. His body had been tense and agitated, but he slid in bed with her and she reached for him in her sleep. She fuckin’ reached out and pulled him into her chest like he was a child. Never seen anything like it, man. All his tension faded away in an instant. I watched the four of ’em from a chair in the room for an hour maybe. I doubt they knew I was there, they were all asleep. After about a half hour she whimpered and those three constricted so tight around her I thought she’d break, but she just settled.” Kieran looks up from his glass and I see it. Kid does this to people. She makes people feel shit they didn’t know was possible. Her touch lingers for a lifetime.

  “About a month later I met her for real, came to dinner at their place. I’m an ugly scary lookin’ motherfucker to most and after what those fuckers did to her I was sure she’d be afraid of me. I was good with that. But she wasn’t afraid of me. She was still fucked up from that shit. You could see a blackness behind her eyes but fuck if she wasn’t the sweetest funniest damn person I ever shared a meal with. She wrapped her arms so tight around my neck when I was leavin’ that night I didn’t know where she found the strength in that skinny body. I saw her off and on while they were in school and she got brighter every time. I’m still a nasty scary motherfucker, but Shannon put a little light in me.”

  I never thought I could love Kid more than I already do but listening to this man, that’s clearly not a pillar of society, be so affected by her…I love her just a little bit more. I feel the ghost of a smile drift across my face before Kieran finishes.

  “I’ll find her. I’ll find her any way I can and when I find out who did this, bodies will drop. She’s had enough in this fuckin’ life and doesn’t need whatever’s happenin’ to her. You need to prepare though. If Nick Scarso has her…we may not be bringin’ her home. I’m not sayin’ that shit to be a dick because it fuckin’ wrecks me to even think it, but it’s the truth. We don’t get to bring her home…you’re welcome to accompany me on the bloodiest revenge tour since Rambo.”

  Ghost smile is gone and my stomach is back to doing flip flops like there’s a Romanian gymnast in there. Fuck this is bad.

  “Thanks for tellin’ me that story, Kieran. I won’t turn into a chick on you, but I love Kid like I can’t fuckin’ explain. We don’t find her…I won’t be around to join your tour,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “I get you. I’m not sure how any of us are gonna get through that…” he trails off as his phone vibrates. He pulls it out and reads a text. His scarred up haggard face breaks into a full blown smile. “That was fast. Bodyguard isn’t what he pretends to be.” Kieran flips his phone around and there’s a picture of a teenage Taylor standing next to an older man that looks very similar to him.

  “Who’s that?” I lean in to get a better look.

  “That,” he points at Taylor, “is the bodyguard. And that,” he points to the older man, “is Vito Mancini. Bodyguard’s birth name’s Anthony Tarantino, Mancini’s third cousin or some shit. Always trust your gut…Dude I don’t even know your fuckin’ name.”

  “Dylan. Dylan Kellerman.” I’m in a haze so foggy I’m surprised I can even remember my name much less produce the words to speak it. “What do we do now? Go pull him outta the Callaghans’ house by his nuts?” I’m raging.

  “We’re gonna have to be a little more under the radar than that. Cops and feds are all over the Callaghan’s. I’m not exactly on the list of preferred visitors where law enforcement is concerned.” Kieran laughs. “If we call Brian, bodyguard’ll be dead before we get anything from him. Let me make some calls and see what I can come up with. You good on your own a few minutes? Not gonna go buy a hatchet and roll up to Highland Park?”

  “I’m good. Just fuckin’ help me find her,” I plead in a grumble.

  “We’ll find her,” he says emphatically…I actually believe him.

  Shannon

  I wake to the door opening in the room. Not knowing who’s entering, I lay perfectly still until a warm comforter falls onto my body. I turn my head to see a bruised and bloodied Nicky grinning and I feel myself grin back. He reaches over me and turns the bedside lamp on before sitting in the chair next to my bed.

  “Convincing performance, Shanny. I sent the team on a wild goose chase that should give us a good six hours alone. I brought you some soup. You eat and we’ll start talkin’,” he says sweetly. I sit up on the bed wincing a little in pain but pushing through. I keep myself wrapped in the comforter as Nicky puts a tray in front of me with a bowl of chicken noodle soup, bread and Gatorade.

  “Thanks for the food,” I say softly.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to feed you more. If I don’t keep up appearances shit gets bad for both of us. That show you put on went a long way to keep our secret safe.”

  I nod and go about eating the soup. It warms me to my bones while the bread fills my stomach to the brim. I try not to chug the Gatorade, but I’m not all that successful. When I’m done Nicky starts.

  “Who’s Liam?”

  “A ghost,” I reply quickly and unaffectedly.

  “Try again,” he growls.

  “Not really somethin’ I feel like talkin’ about, Nicky. Let’s move on to business.”

  “I’d like to talk about Liam.” I don’t respond. I sit silently and wait for him to get the picture that I’m not discussing Liam. After about five minutes (I’m guessing) I lie down in the bed and close my eyes. No point sitting anymore.

  Nicky crawls in bed behind me scooping me into his chest gently. I instantly relax into his arms. I need some comfort after everything. I feel safe here.

  “Shanny,” Nicky says softly.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Who’s Liam?”

  “The second to last guy that tried to rape me,” I whisper. Nicky’s body goes rigid and his arms constrict around me almost painfully.

  “Tried?” he growls.

  “I put up a pretty good fight and was found before he could finish the job.”

  He doesn’t say anything else and neither do I. I just stay wrapped in his arms hoping he doesn’t make me talk about Liam anymore. I don’t want to think about him while I’m here. This is enough of a nightmare on its own. But goddamn if I don’t feel safe in this Nicky’s arms. I hear Uncle Mick’s voice.

  Always trust your gut, Shannon. Your instincts never lead you astray.

  My gut tells me, Nicky will keep me safe…with or without the key.

  Kavanagh

  After a between car conference call, two stops at gas stations, and two hours passing we’re finally pulling into the Callaghan’s driveway. It looks no different to when we left, but shit has changed. I’m still reeling from the conversation (verbal smack down) with Kieran. We’ve worked out a strategy to make
sure none of us goes off half cocked. I hope it works.

  The seven of us walk in the house to be greeted by Mary. She looks like shit. Her face is drawn and lifeless sporting blue eyes with huge dark circles beneath them. Her blond hair is piled on her head in a crazy mound of mess. She’s wearing sweats. I’ve never seen her in anything other than a perfectly put together outfit. I wrap my arms around her and give her a firm squeeze causing her to squeak.

  “You boys hungry?” she asks softly as I disentangle myself from her.

  “Aren’t we always?” I say with a smirk, hardest smirk to put on my face.

  “Where’s Dylan?” she asks in a menacing tone. She probably thinks we killed him and dumped the body.

  “He’s at our place, Mary,” Adam interjects with our agreed upon lie. “Needed some alone time.” Her face drops into a sad scowl.

  “He’s still mad at you boys, isn’t he?” she shoots an accusing look at Cal and Aidan. It’s a good excuse that we didn’t think of. I’ll roll with it.

  “We’re not his favorite people right now. We fucked up,” I say regretfully.

  “Watch your mouth,” she scolds smacking my arm (I think she smacked me, barely felt anything). I don’t think she really means it. We cuss like truckers all the time. Kid’s worse than us.

  “Sorry.”

  She glares at all of us a moment longer. “Come get some dinner. Taylor, Collin and Hugh already ate.” I feel relief that I won’t have to eat at the same table as Taylor. Why I didn’t make the Taylor connection earlier I don’t know. He protected her so fiercely for weeks on end, I never thought he’d hurt her. Fuck her? Yeah that was definitely in his plans, but to hurt her…I never considered it. Now we have to act like we don’t suspect him until we have proof. After that all bets are off.

  Kellerman

  My palms are sweating, my heart is pounding, blood is whooshing past my ears blocking out all the noise in this bar, and my mind is racing. Taylor did this. Taylor fucking did this! I’ll kill him. I’m going to beat him to death or choke him to death or set him on fire or cover him in honey and watch a bear chew his face off…yeah I’m flipping out.

  Kieran’s been gone a while and the steely disposition I had when he left me has faded. If he doesn’t come back soon I can’t be held responsible for my actions.

  “Whoa,” Kieran says as he flops back into his seat from earlier. “Take a breath man.” I do what he says since I’m hanging on by a thread here. I breathe deeply through my nose and out my mouth a few times with my eyes closed. I need to keep my eyes open because every time I shut them I see visions of killing Taylor.

  “Here’s the plan. We lure the bodyguard out. Get your boys to tell him we know Nick Scarso has her and watch his play. My guess is he’ll fuckin’ panic like the bitch that he is and lead us right to her. Once we have her…we fuckin’ end him and whoever else did this,” Kieran snarls the last part.

  “Let’s move on this shit now. We’re better off hidin’ from cops and feds at night,” I say sternly.

  “Fuck yeah! I got some boys comin’ down to give us some backup and firepower. I’ll call Brian and get this show on the road.” He pulls his phone out and pauses for a second. “We’ll have her before sunrise.” A well and true smile breaks his face as he hits the call button on his phone.

  I’m coming Kid.

  Shannon

  Nicky sits up behind me on the bed and pulls me into his lap. I snuggle into his chest relieved my body feels better.

  “Shanny, look at me,” Nicky commands softly in my hair. I lift my gaze slightly and look into his sapphire pools. Damn if I don’t see sincerity and nothing else. “What’s goin’ on with you and your bodyguard?” My eyes bug out at that question. Left field much?

  “Uh…what?”

  “Your bodyguard. Your file made it look like…I got the sense he was more than an employee.”

  “They sure have a lot of information about me.”

  “My uncle had them start lookin’ for you around your birthday. Took ’em about three weeks to end up in Kansas City. Someone watched you until after Thanksgiving, gatherin’ information for the grab.”

  “That’s unnerving,” I huff. I shift off his lap so we can talk easier.

  “Yeah it is.”

  “Why do you wanna know about Taylor?” Why isn’t he asking about my boys or Kel? His gaze shifts from mine and I get nervous. Has he done something to Taylor?

  “You seem close with him,” he prompts.

  “I am close with him. I’ve spent all my time with him for weeks after the death threat your people sent,” I scoff.

  “No one here sent that threat, Shanny. Mancini had some guys run it down when you got it. That’s outside this shit show.”

  “FUCK!” I yell. Can my life get anymore fucked up right now?

  “Don’t worry about that now. Let’s deal with this first okay,” he soothes.

  I steel myself before I launch into my story.

  “That dream I had. It must have the answer in it, but I can’t figure it out,” I say quietly.

  “Tell me about it and we’ll talk it through together.” That makes me smile. Karl would be proud of me. I’ll talk it through with Nicky like I talk cases through with Karl. I can do this. It’s not a whiteboard and coffee but it’ll do.

  “Like I told you, my Uncle Mick raised me after my father was killed in a turf war shooting. I was shot too and then shipped off to live with him. It’s a long story but that’s the short version.” He nods looking confused, but I keep going.

  “Uncle Mick wasn’t a conventional parent. It was good though and a lot of useful training it turns out.” I give him a wry smile, but he doesn’t return it.

  “And the lack of emotion?” Okay that sounds harsh but it’s true.

  “Yeah. Anyway in the dream my dad told me to tell Uncle Mick ‘we had a nice meal’ as he was dyin’. It wasn’t a dream…that’s what happened. But I don’t think I ever told Uncle Mick because I just remembered it while I was here. And I have no fuckin’ clue what it means,” I moan and throw my head back. This is so damn frustrating.

  “Did you ever talk to your Uncle Mick about that day, the shooting?”

  Only once.

  “Only once.”

  “Think back on that day, Shanny. Think about the weather, what you were wearing, what you did, where you had the conversation. Think about everything you can remember.” I close my eyes and lay on my side curling into a ball to try to retrieve one of the most painful memories I have other than Daddy and Liam. Nicky puts a soothing hand on my bare shoulder and I let his warmth fill me. I need to feel safe to do this.

  We’re walking across the field together. I have my .22 rifle over my shoulder and Uncle Mick is carrying targets and extra ammo. This was Uncle Mick’s gun when he was a little boy. That makes me feel special. My birthday is next week and I’ll be nine. I asked Uncle Mick for a .22 handgun. He said he’d think about it, but I know he’ll get it for me. I’m good at shooting. It makes me happy. I’ll get good enough so that no one can ever shoot me again.

  We get to our spot and Uncle Mick walks out to the hay bales and sets up five targets while I set up my rifle. I cleaned it last night, excited for today. When he gets back to me I’m ready to shoot. I line up my shot and squeeze the trigger. I hit the eight. The rings on the target start at six on the outside and move to a ten at the bullseye. An eight’s not a bad start, but I can do better. I load another round and slide the bolt.

  “Widen your stance just a hair, Shannon. Bring that elbow up,” Uncle Mick corrects me softly from behind. I do what he says and line up my shot. BULLSEYE! I scream it in my head, but I don’t react. He’s teaching me to stay calm. It’s really hard. I line up another shot.

  “Shannon?” Uncle Mick questions before I squeeze the trigger.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you tell me about the day of the shooting?” I pause and fire. A seven. I load a round and quickly slide the bolt.

  �
�I told you I don’t remember,” I say angrily. I shoot a nine. Load and slide again.

  “Just tell me what you do remember about that day. You don’t have to try to remember anything. Just talk about it while you shoot,” he says nicely. I’m being mean. I just get so mad now…I didn’t get this mad before. I fire…bullseye again.

  “We were goin’ to a Cubs game. That was our special time.” I load, slide, and fire…bullseye. “Daddy had a meeting before the game so I went with him. It was boring and I had to wait alone. We were there a long time.” I load, slide, and fire…bullseye. “When he was done we left. I got to throw a penny in a pretty fountain at the office building first, then we left. Daddy wasn’t happy.” I load, slide, and fire…bullseye. “Then all the shooting started. I thought it was fireworks. I don’t remember much after that.” I shrug. I don’t think that was much of a story for Uncle Mick.

  “Did your father say anything to you that you remember?” I load, slide, and fire…center of the bullseye.

  “No.” I load, slide, and fire…center of the bullseye.

  “Did you get any food or go for milkshakes?” I pause and think. I load, slide, and fire…center of the bullseye.

  “We had a nice meal.” I load, slide, and fire…center of the bullseye.

  Uncle Mick slides his hand on my shoulder and squeezes tight.

  “Good girl, Shannon. Switch targets now.” I nod, load, slide, take aim at the target to the left, and fire…center of the bullseye.

  If I wasn’t shooting I’d be crying right now. I don’t want to think about that day. I remember more than I’m telling Uncle Mick, but I don’t want to talk about it. It makes me hurt all over. I can’t remember what happened after I got out of my seat belt. I’ve tried every night before I go to sleep and I can’t remember. Why can’t I just remember?