I pause for a moment, studying him before I let go. I don’t need my gun to dance with these guys around. I know they’ve got my back, after the last hour and a half with them fending off anyone who has even glanced in my direction. He nods over to Collin who comes and grabs my purse. O’Sullivan glances at me and says something to his brother. Collin nods and heads back to the boys. As soon as I’m without my clutch I feel myself getting uneasy. O’Sullivan doesn’t notice. He grabs my hand and starts to twirl and dance with me like we are in a competition. My nerves eventually fall away as the songs progress and I feel the biggest grin creep across my face. I’m happy.
I’m finishing my fourth drink and third shot, plus a good hour of dancing. Nature calls.
“I need to use the facilities,” I scream at Kavanagh, my newest dance partner over the music. He nods, grabs my hand and starts leading us toward a staircase.
“I’ll let you go in my room. No line.” He motions toward the line heading into the “party” bathroom. We get to the top of the stairs and make our way to the end of the hallway. My ears are pulsing from the music. He takes a key out of his pocket and opens his bedroom door. It’s what you would expect from a teenage boy: clothes everywhere, unmade bed, strange odor, dirty dishes and half eaten sandwiches.
“Nice room Kav,” I snark at him. He shakes his head at me and points in the direction of the bathroom. I make a hasty retreat.
“I’m gonna run back downstairs real quick. Wait for me to come back for you. I’ll just be a sec,” he yells through the door.
“’Kay.” I’m trying to decide if I should sit on the seat or hover. I may be here a while. The bathroom, like the rest of this place, is gorgeous. White marble and dark wood, it’s like a hotel in here. Well a hotel that’s been accosted by a rock band maybe. I decide to sit instead of hover, because while I can hold alcohol like a dude, sitting while peeing is nice.
I’m washing my hands when I hear the bedroom door open and shut. I open the bathroom door but have my head down, looking at my top as I smooth it.
“Hey.” That’s not Kav. My head snaps up. I ball my fist and realize my clutch (my gun) is not here. FUCK!
“Liam, remember from earlier? I’m Kav’s friend.” His lips turn a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, I remember. Where’s Kav?” I ask, moving toward the door slowly hoping he’ll move away from it. No chance. He reaches his hand back and locks the door. I don’t panic.
“Unlock the door Liam and get the fuck out of my way.” There is no waver in my voice because I’m calm. This is what separates me from most people in the world and makes me keep to myself so much, because people don’t understand this part of me. Uncle Mick trained me from a young age to become calm as situations become more critical. It was difficult to learn, but it’s now intrinsic to my being, like I was born this way. “A girl always gets into trouble when she panics,” he would tell me. Right now I’m calm like a fucking sleeping baby. I’m scanning around the room for anything that I can use against this guy. I don’t think a ham sandwich is going to get the job done.
“Look. I’m a good looking guy and you’re magnificent. What’s the problem?” He’s moving toward me now. I refuse to back up, because then I’ll be trapped between him and a wall. He reaches me and runs the back of his fingers across my cheek. I’m looking right in his dark green eyes. I don’t panic.
“Liam, I don’t give a shit if you’re God Himself. Get your fuckin’ hands off me and let me outta this goddamn room,” I hiss. His eyes narrow at me and turn a shade so dark I swear they’re black.
“You’re gonna make this hard, aren’t you?” The side of his mouth curves up and I know I’m about to have a fight on my hands. Uncle Mick has trained me well, but Liam is a big boy; maybe 6’3” and well over two hundred pounds. His hands are huge, and his eyes devoid of that piece of human you wish you could see in a moment like this. He grabs both my arms hard around my biceps and starts pushing me toward the bed. My wedge gets caught on one of the many piles of clothes on Kav’s floor and I stumble backwards. My back runs into the post on the four-poster bed, cracking my head against it. I’m seeing stars a bit now. I don’t panic.
I try to push forward and that pisses him off. He clamps down on my arms. That’s going to leave a mark. He heaves me onto the bed and I start kicking. Not kicking and flailing like a child, kicking like I’m in the fight of my life. He let’s go of one of my arms to try and corral my legs and I take my chance, punching him in the face as hard as I can. I couldn’t do much because I had no leverage but I manage to split his lip. He smiles at that.
“I like ’em feisty,” he glares at me like I’m his prey. He lays on me with all of his weight and pins my arms above my head, reaching into his back pocket. A zip tie. FUCK!! I start wiggling and squirming with a new found fevered pace. I get one hand free and grab his ear, fully intending to rip it off his head. He lets my other hand go and punches me in the face. I let go of his ear and try to swing on him again, my eye feels like it has exploded and blood is streaming down my face, blurring my vision. I think I land a good hit, but I can’t see where. Somehow he grabs my wrists again, flips me on my stomach, rips my hands behind my back and secures them. This is beyond bad.
I try bucking him off and pulling my knees up, but he’s too heavy and I’m getting tired. I feel his tongue at the base of my neck sweeping down my spine. I still…trying to formulate a plan.
“Good girl. Although I like it rough too.” He reaches under me and starts to undo my button and zipper on my jeans. He’s going to have to get off me to pull my jeans down. I’m still at the end of the bed with my feet dangling in the air. He pulls my jeans over my hips violently and gets up on his knees between my legs, scooting back as he forces my jeans and panties down. I feel his weight shift and realize he’s off the bed, this is my chance. I bend my knees and kick my feet out as hard as I can. He hits the floor with a thud and I jump up. My jeans are around my knees so I can’t run and can’t pull them up with my hands still zip tied behind my back.
He jumps up and tackles me. My head cracks against the bed frame on the way down and I can feel the blood pouring down my neck. I’m kicking and jerking and screaming now. He starts punching me over and over and over viciously. I’m going to pass out soon. I can feel consciousness slipping away with each blow. I spit in his face and scream bloody murder!
“You fucking cunt!!” he screams into my face, raises his fist back and lands it right across my jaw. Blackness takes over.
I hear screaming but it’s muffled and I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. Liam’s hand is inside me and he’s biting my hip like a rabid animal, I’m sure he drew blood. I hear wood splintering and he’s gone. The screaming is louder now, but I can’t open my eyes to see who it is or what’s happening. My ears are ringing and I think I’m going to puke. Something soft and warm is on top of me now and I’m scooped up off the floor, but my body is completely limp.
“Shannon? Can you hear me?” Callaghan is in my ear, soft but panicked. “Dude she is totally fucked up! Her hands are fuckin’ zip tied! Get me something to cut her loose.” He’s shaking. “Shannon? Shannon?!” I can hear him, but I can’t talk and I can’t move anything. My hands are free and Callaghan pulls me closer to his chest, cradling me like a baby. He pulls my hand to his face. “Shannon if you can hear me move your fingers. Just a tiny movement to let me know you’re still with me.” I use every last bit of energy I have and twitch my hand. He lets out a sigh.
Callaghan lays me down in the bed. I can hear a lot of talking but I can’t make out any specifics until I hear hospital. I can’t go to the hospital. Not again. I’m still a minor, and with Uncle Mick in the hospital they’ll call social services. No, not again. I start to shake my head as much as I can.
“What is it Shannon?” I hear O’Sullivan in my ear. “Guys she is freakin’ the fuck out over here. What Shannon? What is it?” O’Sullivan is right next to my face, I can feel his breath on my skin.
“No hospital,” I barely breathe it out. I can’t move my jaw, which I’m guessing is broken.
“Shannon you’re really hurt. You need a doctor now. We have to get you to a hospital,” he whispers in my ear. I shake my head as violently as possible. I wish I could explain, but I can’t, he needs to understand. I grab his wrist and squeeze with every ounce of strength I can muster.
“Okay. Okay no hospital. Cal you have to call your dad. She won’t go to the hospital, but she’s all sorts of fucked up over here. She needs someone to look at her.” I let out the breath I was unaware I was holding, and let sleep consume me.
I wake up and I’m being carried. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t make them.
“Shannon,” Callaghan’s calming voice is in my ear. “I’m takin’ you to my dad’s office. He’s a doctor.” I feel my pulse pick up and I fear I’ll be found out. “Don’t worry, no hospitals. Just my dad, I promise you’re safe.” I relax as he sits and a door shuts. I hear another voice talking to Callaghan, but I can’t make it out as I drift off again.
Beep…click. Beep…click.
I hear this noise over and over. There is something really heavy on my back and I still can’t open my eyes. My head is in something and I’m lying on my stomach, my face resting on some kind of plastic thing. I’m in so much fucking pain I whimper.
“Shannon,” Callaghan whispers, “we’re just getting some x-rays. You need to lie completely still. I know you’ve got to be in excruciating pain but try not to move.” I try my damnedest to be as still as I can before I sleep again.
I’m moving again, in a car or something. I’m in someone’s arms. I can feel their breath on my face and hear their heart in my ear. This must be what a baby feels like cradled in its mother’s arms. My pain is less but still only just bearable. Before the unconsciousness comes, I feel safe.
“Shannon? My name is Robert Callaghan, can you open your right eye for me?” His voice is deep and smooth, his tone soothing. I try, but all it does is flutter. “That’s all right. Shannon you have been assaulted, but nothing appears to be broken. I’ve taken some images of your head and everything appears to be normal however, you have a deep laceration on the back of your head that needs a few staples. You have also suffered a concussion, a secondary laceration above your left eye and although your jaw is not dislocated it is severely edematous, which is why you are unable to speak. Due to the injuries sustained, your eyes have severe edema and are swollen shut; however, none of your facial bones have been fractured. You’re going to be okay Shannon.” He rubs my shoulder before moving away. I hear him rummaging around in a bag I think. “I’m going to ask you to roll onto your left side and I’ll get this laceration closed. I’m going to inject a little lidocaine to numb the area first.” I roll over. “A little pinch now Shannon.” I don’t feel it. I’m already in so much pain, what’s one more thing? Three clicks and he’s done.
“Until that swelling subsides in your jaw, we’ll keep the IV to provide fluids and pain meds.” I didn’t even notice there was an IV. I’m in a bed but it doesn’t smell like Kavanagh’s. I force my right eye to open just a slit and look around. There is an older gentleman with scrubs on standing next to me, with a kind yet concerned smile on his face. I’m in a bedroom, clean and fresh smelling. The walls are a grey-blue color and the curtains are crisp white. I feel like I’m in a resort. A resort for the ass whipped.
“You’re in Ryan’s room,” Doctor Callaghan says.
I furrow my badly beaten brow and try to remember a Ryan. Ahhh Callaghan. I nod.
“I’ve got a home nurse coming to see to you for the rest of the time you’re healing. I’ll come and check on you myself once a day as well. I’m so sorry this happened to you Shannon. I understand you refused to go to the hospital. If you were sexually assaulted we need to get you to the hospital and to the police, so that we can take the necessary steps to insure you are not at risk.” How do I let him know I wasn’t raped and I can’t go to the hospital?
“Not. Raped.” I breathe out. I really can’t move my jaw. Fuck that hurts. I make direct eye contact with him with my one half functioning eye. He studies my beaten face for a minute, maybe longer, and gives me a curt nod.
“I’ll be back mid-morning to check on you. Tina, your nurse, will be here in half an hour. Try to get some rest.” Doctor Callaghan puts his hand in mine and squeezes it; I return the squeeze as best I can. He turns and leaves. I can hear voices but feel myself getting sleepy again.
“Shannon?” Kavanagh whispers by my side. I open my eye the tiny bit it’s able. He looks pale and drawn, like he’s looking at a dead body. He’s holding my hand and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. “Shannon I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t—” I shake my head cutting him off. This wasn’t his fault and I’m not going to let him beat himself up for something that had nothing to do with him. I grip his hand to get him to look at me, trying as hard as I can to convey through my gaze that this is not his weight to bear. After a few moments of eye contact he nods and I close my eye. I’m fucking tired. I feel the bed dip under his weight behind me and his arms come around so he’s spooning me, I let him. I feel safe with his arms around me. I hear O’Sullivan and Callaghan enter the room.
“How is she Kav?” O’Sullivan asks quietly. The bed dips in front of me, my good eye seeing O’Sullivan smiling at me. He’s scared. He moves my IV line and lies down in front of me.
“She’s gonna be fine,” Kav mumbles into my hair. O’Sullivan holds my hand and brushes his finger across my wrist where there are surely marks from the zip tie. The bed dips at my feet, I look down my shoulder to see Callaghan sitting by our feet. He looks at me with his eyes glistening. He isn’t going to cry, but he’s full of emotion that he doesn’t know how to direct. It’s as though he and I are able to talk to each other through our gaze. I can’t explain it, but I know he understands what I want to say to him and vice-a-versa. I nod at him in thanks. He lies down putting my feet into his chest wrapping his arms around my legs. I’m cocooned by comfort and fast fall asleep. This is what love feels like.
I’ve been at their place for ten days. I started talking and “eating” by the end of the first week. The last week was just getting back on my feet again. Kav slept with me every night. They moved me to a guest room the second night I was here, so Kav could have slept in his room but he never did. We never talked about it. Once I could talk again the questions started coming. I told the boys what Liam had done. Their reactions were fury unlike any I had ever seen. I asked repeatedly what happened to him, but they would never answer other than to tell me he wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. I gave up asking eventually. Now the hard questions.
“Why wouldn’t you go to the hospital, Shannon?” O’Sullivan asks at breakfast. I lean my head back and look at the ceiling. I know I have to tell them. I have to be honest, but that’s easier said than done for me. I trust these boys and THAT is monumental for me. The only people I’ve trusted in my life has been family. They feel like family after this week and a half and they deserve the truth.
“O’Sullivan, I didn’t want them to call social services.” He looks at me with giant bugged out eyeballs.
“Why would they do that?” He’s trying to steady his breath while he looks at the other guys whose brows are both furrowed waiting for my story.
“Because I just turned seventeen and my guardian is in the hospital with stage four pancreatic cancer…dying. Social services could take me to a group home or foster care and I would lose at least a year of school until I aged out of the system,” I rattle off as quickly as my lips allow. All their eyes are bugging out now.
“What?!” Kav asks, while shaking his head free of the dream he thinks he’s having. I just sit there and let the information sink in.
“What do you mean guardian? Where’s your family, your parents?” Callaghan asks pointedly. I’ve been dodging the family question while I’ve been here. They kept asking if they should call my parents for
me and I told them there was no need, that I would call them once I could talk properly so as not to make anyone worry. It was a good lie, I thought.
“My father died when I was eight and my mom took off a few weeks later. My great uncle, Mick, was the only living relative that I had left, so I moved to Kansas City to live with him.” I keep my head down, picking at the fruit in front of me. I’ve never told anyone this story. People back home just took the “my parents are dead, I live with my uncle” CliffsNotes version and didn’t push. These guys are not going to accept that.
“Moved from where, Shannon?” Kav asks me quietly, not wanting to upset me.
“Here, Kav.” I look up at him through my eyelashes. He’s puzzled. “Look guys I really don’t talk about this. Actually, I never have. I’m telling you the story of my life that no one knows because I trust you. But this is fucking hard.” I push away from the table and stand up. They all just watch me, waiting to see what my next move is. Here goes nothing.
“My father was John Murphy. He was the State’s Attorney when he died. It was big news around here, I guess.” I hear them all gasping in recognition. I have to keep talking if I’m going to get this story out. “He was my everything, guys. It didn’t matter how much work he had, or what case he was working on, he always came home every night to tuck me in. He made time for me and came to my dance recitals, taught me about sports, took me to Cubs games, let me be me, not the princess my mother insisted on. I knew I was number one in his world.” I smile thinking about him.
“My mom could give two shits about me. I was something for her to dress up and show off to the other ladies who lunched, but that was it. When my dad died I was with him…I was shot too and in the ICU for weeks. It was actually reported that I had died along with him. Before I was released from the hospital, my mom called her uncle to see if he could take me for a few weeks while she got things ‘organized’. I was on a plane the next morning by myself. When I got off, Uncle Mick was there waiting for me. She never called or wrote again. I haven’t seen her since she put me in that car with a driver that day. She didn’t even come to the airport with me.” I pause, getting my breath back. I sneak a glance at the boys, they’re stunned. Each of them is wearing a various face of question and disgust.
Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits Page 3