“My Uncle Mick raised me. He had me use his last name, it made for fewer questions, which I appreciated so much. He’s an amazing man and the reason Liam didn’t rape or kill me the other night.” Their heads all snap at that comment. “He was a military man, former Navy SEAL. He taught me to take care of myself and trained me to remain calm in a crisis situation. He taught me how to fight and how to shoot. He made sure that if he wasn’t around, that I could fend for myself.” I’m looking right at them now.
“My gun was in my purse that night.” O’Sullivan drops his head in his hands. “O’Sullivan it’s not your fault, you didn’t know it was there or that I would need it. It’s my fault for letting down my guard. I felt comfortable with you guys. I should’ve been thinking more and paying closer attention. Uncle Mick would be disappointed in me. I hate that.” I slump my shoulders forward and sigh. “I know better, he’s taught me better and on the first night I had to prove it, I fucked up.”
“No Shannon,” Kav says in a very stern tone. I snap my head up to look at him. His eyes are pinned on me. He stands up, making his way to me, putting his finger under my chin so I have to look up into his eyes. “He would be nothing but proud of you. You survived.”
I stand reaching my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest. If ever there was a time to cry, this is it. Problem is, I don’t cry. I haven’t since I found out my dad died. I’ve wanted to, sure, but the tears never come. I cried for days, maybe weeks when my nurse told me he died. My own mother didn’t even tell me. I was too unstable to go to the funeral, so the last time I saw my father he was dying right next to me in the backseat of our town car. I don’t remember the last thing we said to each other. I always try, but those words never come. I hope they were words of love. After I stopped crying about his death, I never shed another tear.
“Your father would be proud of you too. I’m so sorry you lost him.” He tugs me hard against his chest and then lets me go. I sit back down at the table and slam my orange juice.
“Well that was fun,” I say, trying to brighten the mood of the room. “Who wants to take me to Neiman Marcus to find some cover up for these lovely bruises?” I QVC model my face. It’s not working. They’re still reeling from all of that information.
“Guys. I’m fine. I’ve lived this life for seventeen years and I’m doing just fine.” I smile genuinely. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t tell this story to people for just that reason. Everyone has some fucked up shitty story about their childhood. I’m no different. I can’t see my father again. I can’t make my mother come home and love me. I can’t make Uncle Mick’s cancer go away. I can’t make Liam’s attack go away. But this is my fuckin’ life and no one else’s. This life made me who I am today, and I love who I am so I’m not sorry and I don’t feel bad for myself. There are worse stories out there boys.” I look at them in the eye one by one.
“I can’t believe you’re fuckin’ seventeen years old!” O’Sullivan laughs.
I shake my head and chuckle. “Really? That’s the takeaway you’re going with Sully?” Kavanagh’s head shoots up and he looks at O’Sullivan right in his face, waiting for something, his gaze is tense. I watch and wait too because I have no idea what silent communication is going on.
“What?” I arch my brow.
“No one calls him that. He fuckin’ hates it and never allows it to roll off anyone’s tongue at him,” Callaghan explains quietly, waiting for Sully to blow up at me I guess. I look at Sully and wait. His panty dropping smile sweeps across his face and his chocolate eyes sparkle.
“I like it when she says it,” he says, looking directly at me but talking to his boys. He breaks eye contact and shrugs. “I guess there are a lot of firsts going on around here lately. Shannon tells us her truly fucked life story, Kavanagh is sleepin’ with a chick for the first time ever, Callaghan is talkin’ for a change, and I like the name I’ve always hated. What the hell is goin’ on in this house?!” We all laugh.
“Cally, what’s he talkin’ about?” I ask Callaghan as I’m obviously missing something else. He arches a brow at me.
“Cally?” he rolls off his tongue, thinking on the nickname a minute. “Okay. I have the tendency to be a little closed off, I don’t talk much. I mean I talk but just to bullshit, pull chicks, stuff like that. I never talk about anything important, according to my family and these dicks,” he scoffs, nodding at the guys. He’s nervous.
“What’s that about Cally?” I ask softly, trying to encourage the non-talker to talk. I reach my hand across the table to his and give a quick squeeze. He interlaces our fingers and rubs my knuckles with his other hand.
“My mom died when I was little. Fucked me up according to therapists and doctors.” He sighs and shrugs. “Like you said, we’ve all got some fucked up story. Mine’s no different.”
I get up and climb into his lap, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling in. “You’re not fucked up,” I whisper. We all sit there in silence for a few minutes until some of the tension slips away. I climb out of Cally’s lap and resume my seat in the chair next to him. He scoops my hand back up and resumes his previous hold and stroke pattern.
“Kavy, what about you? Who are you knockin’ boots with?” I snicker at him. He shakes his head at his new nickname and smiles the smile at me that’s only mine.
“I’m not knockin’ anyone’s boots Kid.” Kid? I’m guessing the seventeen-year-old just got a nickname…I can handle that. “I’m sleepin’ with you. I never let chicks stay after said boot knockin’. I don’t sleep that well to begin with and I certainly don’t cuddle with randoms. I’ve never slept as well as I do when I sleep with you. Don’t know what it is, but it’s workin’ for me.” He shrugs at me and I study his face. Is he hitting on me right now? After a minute or so I shrug too. He’s not hitting on me; I’m like his comfort blanket.
“Sully, what’s your beef with the nickname?” I smile at him and he gleams back at me.
“It’s my pop’s nickname. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but I’m not him.” He glances at me, wondering if that’s enough information to satisfy me. It’s not.
“Who’s your dad, Sully?” He hunches forward in his chair.
“He’s the Deputy Chief of the Bureau of Organized Crime.” He looks up at me sheepishly. That doesn’t mean shit to me. I don’t care who his father is, but apparently other people do, or have. I know the pressure of having a well-known father, but only from a little girl’s perspective. I can imagine the pressure that Sully feels is well beyond anything I ever experienced. Shitty.
“Okay,” I breathe out and shrug, “so we’re one big fucked up happy family, huh boys?” I ask, again, trying to break the tension. This time it works, and we all chuckle.
“I think I should get my stuff together and get outta your hair. I’ll go back to the dorm if one of you guys can give me a lift?” I’ve been here for ten days and I’m sure they have better things to do than babysit me. I like it here though. No singing neighbors! The boys went to my place and grabbed stuff for me the first few days I was here, but I’m in need of clothes and some body wash that doesn’t smell manly. I need some conditioner for my poor head too. Once I got the staples out I “washed” my hair, but it’s in serious need of some proper hair care.
I stand up from the table and stretch, waiting for a response from someone. Then I realize they’re probably too busy to drive me back to the dorms. I’ll just cab it.
“It’s okay boys. You’ve done so much for me already. I’ll grab a cab.” I turn to walk away when Kavy grabs my wrist. I look back at him puzzled, he looks worried.
“What’s up Kavy?” I ask, taking a step closer, trying to figure out that look on his face.
“We don’t want you to go, Kid.” It’s almost a whisper.
“Huh?” I look at the other guys who have the same looks on their faces.
“We don’t want you to go. Stay here with us. We feel—” I cut him off.
“I’m fine guys
. I won’t go anywhere without my gun anymore and the dorms are pretty safe. I won’t roam South Chicago at night on my own, I promise.” I wink at Kavy and pat his shoulder with my free hand as he’s still gripping my wrist.
“No Kid. We want you here. We talked about it a few days ago. We want you to move in here with us. Not because you can’t take care of yourself, but because we like havin’ you here. All of us are better when you’re around. It’s selfish of us really. Don’t go.” Kavy is pulling me into his side. I feel like this is a breakup.
“Guys come on. This is silly. You’re three grown ass men in college. You don’t need me around crampin’ your style. Your girlfriends will not be happy with some chick you met a week and a half ago movin’ into your place. You’ll be fine without me here. We’ll see each other in class all the time and maybe I’ll come to another party, as long as you have a more selective guest list.” I try to make a joke, but it falls flat. Sarcasm and jokes are my defense mechanism. They aren’t responding and this is getting weird. I pull back from Kavy and he lets go of my wrist. I give him a weak smile, turn toward the stairs and feel a little bit more lost with each step I take.
Once I’m in the spare room I grab my duffle bag and start loading it up. I don’t have much so it doesn’t take long. I walk into the guest bath, grab my toothbrush and stroll back into the spare room. It’s now full of the guys. I smirk at them. They’re all so big that this room now feels like a closet. Cally grabs my bag off the bed and sits in its place with it in his lap. I walk over to him and slide my toothbrush in the bag and zip it up. This is the worst break up ever!
“Why do I feel like we’re breaking up?” I question them sheepishly.
Sully humphs, “Because you are breaking up with us, Kid.” I look up at him shocked.
“What the hell does that mean, Sully?” I ask pointedly. I didn’t fucking do anything. I’m trying to be responsible here, jeez.
“We don’t want you to go and you’re still going. That’s a break up, Kid. This blows!” He flops down on the bed next to Cally. I look over at Kavy who is leaning against the wall with his face directed at the ceiling. These guys are really jacked up. They want a seventeen-year-old girl to move into their bachelor pad. Who are these people?
“You are the strangest boys I have ever met. I’ll stay until Sunday, but then I’m out,” I’m serious. I can’t move in here with them. It’s too much too soon in my journey to wherever the fuck I’m headed. I need dorm life, right? It’s what shapes you into a normal adult. Communal showers and strange smells, I already have the awesome neighbor. They let out a harmonized sigh and agree. Weirdoes!
Sunday is here before we blink. I had so much class work and reading to catch up on. The boys recorded lectures, took notes for me, and brought me all of our assignments. I’m lucky it’s the beginning of the quarter so I’m not missing any exams. I did have to tell my coach I was in an “accident” and she put me down as injured until the team doctor clears me to play. I hope to be back at practice in two more weeks. While I’ve been catching up on work, the boys apparently had missed an inordinate amount of PlayStation they were catching up on. Time flew.
We decided to go out to brunch today. I’ve been cooking pretty much every meal since I’ve been back on my feet. To say they love my cooking is beyond an understatement, but today is moving day, so I’m off duty. I had gone to Neiman Marcus with Cally on Friday to get some extra strength cover up for my green and yellow bruises and grabbed a new boat neck cashmere sweater. I look normal for the first time in two weeks. It’s refreshing.
We settle into brunch, and the boys are quiet while we eat, which is bizarre. These three are never quiet, especially when food is involved. I know our little house playing adventure is ending, I’m sad about it too, but it’s time to be done.
“Come on guys. Don’t be such babies. It’s not the end of the world. You guys have been leaving me at your place alone while you’ve gone to class, this is no different. I’ll just be at the dorms listening to awesome singing.”
“Kid,” Kavy huffs, “you’ve gotta stay. I’m sleeping, Callaghan’s no longer a monk,” I see a middle finger out of my periphery, “and O’Sullivan is your Sully. All is right with the world. You said you trusted us and that’s a big fuckin’ deal for you. Why are you puttin’ up such a goddamn fight?” He’s irritated and his tone is harsh at the end.
Why am I fighting it? I don’t know, honestly. I’m new to this trust and honesty thing. I’m good on my own. Uncle Mick left me to it most of the time and I was good like that. I trust him and love him, but he raised me to be fiercely independent. I’ve never been so involved with anyone in my life like I am these guys, and it’s only been two weeks. I don’t know how to do it. Plus, money. How am I going to afford a quarter of the rent at a place like theirs? That’s my next try.
“I can’t. I can’t pay for your place. I have a trust fund, but I don’t get access until I’m eighteen. Uncle Mick never made our situation legal so the Witch still holds those purse strings. The estate executor sends Uncle Mick a monthly allowance and that’s all I get. I’m supposed to still be in high school so I don’t get any college upgrades. No one knows I’m here because it’s not exactly legal for a seventeen-year-old with no parents and a sort of guardian in another state. I got a scholarship and Uncle Mick pitched in so I could do this, but I don’t have any extra. Sorry.” I’m annoyed now, I feel like a dick charity case. Uncle Mick is actually really wealthy but I never ask him for money, although he gives it freely. He’s done enough for me. I don’t think he’d be real keen on the idea of me moving in with a bunch of guys I just met either. I have a lot of explaining to do as it is.
“Fuck that noise. We didn’t ask you for your money, we asked you to move in with us,” Sully’s irritated now. “What the fuck, Kid? Do you think we’re teenage multimillionaires? Our place is Kavanagh’s pop’s place. He bought it so we’d all have a place for four years during undergrad, so we wouldn’t have to dorm it or live at home. None of us pay shit, and I know that’s fucked up but that’s how it is.”
I look up at Kavy and he’s grinning at Sully like: point boys, Kid zero. Fuckers.
I clear my throat to gain back their attention.
“I’ve been living on my own since I was eight, boys. Uncle Mick had a hands-off approach and it worked for both of us. I don’t know how to do family.” And there was the truth. The reason I was fighting this so hard. I don’t know how to do family.
Cally sighs grabbing my hand, rubbing my knuckles. That’s his thing I’m learning.
“Kid we get that, and we’re not trying to force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. Even though these two jackholes make it seem that way.” He glowers at them. “We love having you at our place. We can’t explain it any more than you understand it. You’re like the missing piece to our puzzle Kid, you just fit. If you can’t move in with us it’s fine, we’ll just hang out with you all the time. Enjoy your dorm concerts and cafeteria food.” He puts both hands in the air, raising the roof with a fake smile plastered on. I laugh. There isn’t enough room in my dorm to accommodate their size, much less their shenanigans. Cally’s holding my hand again, looking at the boys with an “accept the inevitable” gaze. I let out a deep breath that I’ve been unknowingly holding.
“Okay.” It isn’t even a whisper. Sully’s head snaps toward me.
“What?” Kavy asks Sully, clearly he hadn’t heard me.
“She said something. It sounded like okay.” If his eyebrows rise any higher they’ll be in his hairline. I clear my throat and they’re all staring at me now.
“Okay,” it’s above a whisper but still not confident. Fuck no, it isn’t confident. I’m scared shitless of this whole plan! Not scared of my boys, I’m scared of how to do this and not get hurt.
“Wooooooo!!” Kavy yells and jumps up out of his chair. He runs around the table to me and rips me up out of my seat, smashing me into his chest.
“I can’t br
eathe Kavy,” I gasp.
“Sorry.” He loosens up a bit, only for Sully to sweep me to him next. They always smell so fucking good. Cologne, mint, and something just them, it’s comforting for me. Cally gets me next, his 6’6” frame engulfing me. He pulls me into a hug, dragging my feet off the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him tight. He murmurs thank you into my hair and puts me back down. The whole restaurant is gawking at us.
Slap! Sully smacks my ass like I just scored a touchdown.
“Hands off the ass O’Sullivan,” I hiss at him. He frowns.
“That’s Sully to you, Kid.” He winks at me. “That was a friendly ass slap. I do the same to Kav and Cal all the time.”
“Is that before or after you go down on them?” His jaw hits the floor and the other two bend in half laughing. I grab the check and we head to the counter to pay. Kavy and Cally are still chuckling as we crawl into Cally’s SUV. I jump in the back with Sully who is still eyeballing me after my comment.
“What?” I roll my eyes at him.
“You,” he says, like that’s an answer.
“Me, what Sully?”
“You’re not like any other chick I’ve ever met. None of us have sisters so I don’t if that’s what this thing is, or what, but I have never felt like this around a chick before,” he sounds totally confused.
“How is it you feel about me Sully?” Now I’m confused.
“You’re the hottest chick I’ve seen in, I don’t know…ever. You’re hilarious. You don’t take shit from anyone. You cuss as much as we do. You can cook. You’re brilliant. You love sports. You’re not a girly girl. You. Are. Perfect.” I’m speechless and freaked out. “And I don’t wanna fuck you,” he says matter-of-factly, like he just told me the sky is blue. I burst into a full belly laugh as do the others that have been listening to this monologue.
Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits Page 4