Shrouded in Blackness

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  “I bet,” she quips.

  “I’m Kieran Delaney,” I offer, moving my hand out in front of me. Her knife is out and at the ready before I can take a full step toward her.

  “Whoa, whoa killer. I was just introducin’ myself.”

  She studies me for a long time before returning her knife to her back. This chick is high strung!

  “You still fight?” she asks pointedly, nodding toward my haggard face.

  “Rarely, mostly just arrange fights, manage fighters, shit like that.” I have no idea why I just told her that. I don’t usually tell perfect strangers that I’m a criminal two seconds after being threatened with a knife. If she’s here with Ian, she knows the business, so it shouldn’t be an issue. She’s obviously not a cop. What’s the harm?

  She doesn’t respond, just bores into me with those crystal blue eyes. Ian breaks the tense stare down as he comes out of the locker room. He approaches me and wipes the blood away with an antiseptic wipe and then slathers ointment over the wound. It’ll leave yet another scar and a pretty good story to follow it.

  “Quinn, you gonna quit lookin’ at him like that any time soon?” Ian questions her with a stern tone.

  “I’m ready to head out, Ian. I’ll see you around sometime,” she dismisses him and avoids the question.

  “Quinn, hold up,” Ian says, almost defeated in tone. I’ve never heard that tone from him in the last almost twenty years I’ve known him. Who the fuck is this chick?

  “Go on up to the office and crash on the couch. No one’ll bother you. You can get a good night’s rest. It’s snowin’.”

  “I’m good. Thanks, though. It was nice to get cleaned up a bit.” With a ragged sigh the old man drops his shoulders and watches that tiny thing walk out the back door into the alleyway.

  “She live close by?” I ask, knowing there’s no way she does. There’s nowhere near here to live.

  “You could say that,” Ian replies in a grunt, rubbing his mostly bald head vigorously. “That girl is a pain in the fuckin’ ass!”

  “I noticed.” I chuckle a bit thinking about calling Shannon to tell her about my assault. She’ll laugh her ass off and she could use a laugh right about now.

  “She’s gonna freeze to death one of these nights.” Ian’s comment pulls me out of my chuckle and I scowl.

  “Why would she freeze to death?”

  “She’s homeless. Sleeps on the streets most nights. Sometimes she goes to shelters, but it’s rare. Even rarer I can convince her to stay here, but she’ll only sleep on the couch in my office. Won’t even consider one of the bedrooms.” Ian’s staring at the backdoor like she’ll magically appear if he keeps his eyes locked there long enough.

  She’s homeless? She’ll definitely freeze to death. It’s February in Chicago and she’s a fucking twig. My stomach rolls with discomfort at the thought. That’s a sensation I’ve only had a handful of times in my life, always surrounding Shannon and her safety. Shit.

  “Where will she go tonight?” I growl. Ian quirks an eyebrow at my tone. I’m shocked as hell at it too.

  “Don’t know. She won’t tell me where she goes and I’ve never been able to keep tabs on her. She’s like a fuckin’ ghost out there.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I make my way out the back door and see her tracks leaving the alleyway in the freshly fallen snow. As I follow them, I pick up my pace a little. She’s got a few minutes head start on me, but she’s short and I’m covering her tracks quickly. I get to the street and see her a block and a half down. My car is parked in front of me so I hop in and roar in her direction. It’s almost 1:00 am and we’re in the old packing district. She’s the only person on the street. I come to a screeching halt on the sidewalk right in front of her. Quinn stumbles a bit but has her knife drawn as I scissor out of the Camaro.

  I tip my lips in a cocky smile. I can’t help it. Seeing her all riled up makes me smile. I’m a sick fuck and I don’t claim to be otherwise.

  “Get in,” I say nicely.

  “Fuck you,” she responds harshly.

  “Maybe some other time, Shorty.”

  “How ’bout I fuck you with my friend here,” she nods at her knife, “and we call it even?”

  “As nice as that sounds, I’m not into that weird shit you chicks read in crappy romance novels. Get in the car,” I say a little more sternly.

  “You deaf?”

  “Look, I can see you’re hell bent on bein’ tough as nails and all that but come the fuck on. It’s cold and snowin’ and blowin’ like crazy out here. Don’t be stupid and get your ass in the fuckin’ car.”

  “Wow. You’re seriously determined to get stabbed tonight. Unfortunately, I don’t feel like gettin’ messy so just move along, Kieran,” she sneers my name.

  “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car.”

  She starts walking away backwards with her knife still aimed at me. She’s not wearing gloves so her hands are probably starting to ache from the cold. If I can wait her out until they’re numb I can get the knife from her. I could get it now, but I’d probably hurt her and I don’t hurt women.

  “Quinn,” I warn. “If you make me chase you it’s not gonna be pretty.”

  “If you chase me I’ll try to make your death as clean as I can so you can be as pretty as you are now in your casket.”

  She’s still moving backward as she threatens me. I’m getting annoyed now and a little bored. I can only be held at knife point so many times in one night and I think I’ve hit my threshold. Quinn notices my patience is running thin and tips a knowing smirk at me. She is sexy as hell.

  I quickly advance on her and grab her wrist as she thrusts the blade toward me. Too easy to disarm her. It took half a second. My side shrieks in pain as Quinn plunges a smaller blade just under my ribs and stares me in the face as I gasp in a deep breath. I stumble back and fall to the ground, shaking my head in disbelief.

  She squats down and washes the blood off her smaller blade with the snow on the ground, stands up without looking at me and walks off in the same direction she was originally headed. That’s the last vision I have of Quinn before I pass out on the sidewalk like a pussy.

  Quinn

  I move quickly down the sidewalk before beginning to wind and weave myself between buildings and alleys. I know Kieran’s not coming for me, but I need some distance. When I’ve put a good three miles between us I stop at a dumpster and puke my guts out. My whole body is shaking from head to toe like I’m having a seizure. I wish I could be as cold and unfeeling as I want, but I’m not. I don’t want to kill or threaten people, but I do it and I do it well. When I have to act out as the animal I’ve become I always get sick afterward. A little piece of me dies every time and is expelled in vomit.

  Once my stomach is settled I press myself between two brick buildings, dragging my bag at my side. Only someone my size or smaller could fit in this crevice. After I smash my way through I find the small clearing at the back. The two buildings should have been attached when they were built, but some idiot decided to build them side by side instead. The dark, smoky brick building is about ten feet shorter than the light grey one leaving a small area for me to hide out where another building backs up to it. It’s like living in a grain silo.

  I spend most of my time here. I’ve never seen another person try to get back here and my stuff is always left alone. I still don’t spend more than a few hours at a time in my silo, but I generally come back once a day to sleep. I’m protected from the elements with a tarp I’ve attached overhead and I’m safe with a heavy wooden door I dragged back here years ago that I use to cover the small entryway.

  I drop my bag and heave the heavy door into place before I unwrap my foam mat and sleeping bag. These two items were expensive and my one splurge I allow myself every few years. I’m not homeless due to circumstance; I’m homeless because it’s the only way. I had choices years ago when this all started and I didn’t like my options, so I chose a new one…alone.

>   There are parts of my old life that I miss. Family and friends are at the top of that list until I remember the people that I thought were my family and friends turned out to be something completely different. I didn’t grow up in a suburban wonder filled with picket fences and puppies. I grew up in a criminal family, a connected family. My father dealt with finances for organized crime my entire life. My mother’s entire family was part of an Irish gang that ran drugs and guns.

  So my upbringing was different from most. My parents kept me sheltered from everything in the “normal” world. I wasn’t rolling around on the floor while junkies were snorting lines off my coffee table or anything like that. But people gave me a wide berth in the streets just based on my name alone. The only friends I had were children who were connected to the same crime families as mine. It was insular and confining, but I always felt safe and loved…until I wasn’t.

  I snuggle into my subzero sleeping bag and zip myself in, burrowing my slight body down as far as I can. The walls around me break all of the wind so I only have to battle the cold and snow which I’ve found is pretty easy at this point with the right gear. I’ll sleep for about four hours and then I’ll move again. I’d love to know what a good night’s sleep feels like. I can’t even remember. It’s best not to remember.

  I wake up to the sound of scratching at my door. I begin to measure my breaths, but the sound comes again before I can draw a single lungful. I scramble quickly out of my sleeping bag, clutching my knife, and move to the door. I lean my head against it. Crying. I hear a baby crying. I quickly heave the door to the side and stumble back at what I find.

  A little boy covered in filth and hardly any clothes, clutching a tiny baby wrapped in newspaper to his chest.

  “Please help my sister,” he squeaks, handing the baby to me. I look down the long gap between the buildings and see nothing but falling snow. Turning my gaze back to the boy I pull him into my space, drag the door back in place and grab the baby from him.

  “Where’s your mom?” I ask him as I unwrap the newspaper.

  “She’s taking a long sleep in heaven. She told me to find you and you would help,” the boy responds. I furrow my brow as I think about what he just said and examine the baby. She’s a newborn, still bloody, with her umbilical cord attached and closed off with a shoelace. She’s squealing weakly and turning a little blue from the cold.

  I keep her in the crook of my arm and dig through my backpack for clothes to wrap her in. I pull out my hoodie and wrap her snugly before climbing into the sleeping bag with her clutched to my chest. I hold the edge up and indicate with my head for the boy to climb in. He’s got to be freezing too. He scampers to me and snuggles himself into my arms alongside his sister. I hold them close to me for a long time before I start to doze off myself.

  I wake up when the baby wiggles beneath my hand. She’s hungry. I have no way to feed her. I need to get them to a shelter or a hospital. It’s too cold to drag them around the city with me to get them safe, though. I need to ask this boy some questions to see what I’m up against.

  “Hey bud,” I say quietly, rubbing his back. His skin is warm to the touch which is a whole lot better than what it was a few hours ago.

  “Yeah?” he squeaks, peeling his eyes open.

  “My name’s Darcy. Can you tell me your name?” I whisper because the baby’s back asleep.

  “Jack. That’s Ashling,” he says, pointing a boney finger at his sister. Two Irish names. I tuck that piece of information away for later.

  “What happened to your mom, Jack?”

  “She did something bad. Then Ashling came and mom told me to find you. She said that you wouldn’t hurt us and you wouldn’t let the bad guys get us. Then she went to sleep and got really cold so I left and found you.” This kid has seen too much of the world already and he can’t be that old.

  “How old are you Jack?”

  “Six.”

  Jesus Christ! That’s too damn young to have watched your mother die and take care of a newborn. There are adults who couldn’t do that. I pull him into me and hold him for a long while.

  “I don’t think I knew your mom, Jack. I know I’ve never met you. How did you find me?”

  “I used to watch you in the park sometimes. My mom did, too. You don’t take the bad medicine and you don’t let the men touch you. When I asked my mom why she couldn’t be like you she said she didn’t know how to be that way,” he says honestly with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to miss his mom. I’m guessing she wasn’t much of a mother for him to miss.

  “Mom made some of the men mad before Ashling came. She told me that they wanted the baby and that I had to make sure they didn’t get her. You won’t let them get her will you, Darcy?” he asks with a small amount of terror in his eyes.

  “No, Jack. I won’t let anyone get either of you,” I promise confidently. “Let’s get up and find somewhere warm. You think you’re up for a walk?” He nods and climbs out of the sleeping bag.

  Jack said he’s six but he’s a bag of malnourished bones. I wouldn’t have thought he was more than three until he spoke. He has on two different shoes that are riddled with holes. His pants are thin and threadbare, two sizes too small. The shirt he’s wearing looks like a pajama top, thin stretchy jersey with the Incredible Hulk on the front. It’s also too small. He has no coat, gloves or hat. He might as well be naked out here. And he’s dirty and smells like you wouldn’t believe. There is so much dirt caked on him, I can’t be certain what color his hair is. His eyes are bright blue, almost the same as mine. This is a good thing because if I can pass him off as mine I won’t get as many looks as we move through the streets this morning.

  I lay Ashling down in the sleeping bag and crawl out. Digging through my backpack I find the wet wipes, a granola bar and my last hoodie. I tear open the bar and pass it to Jack who attacks it like a shark. When he’s done, which is about ten seconds after I give it to him, I pull him over to me and start washing his face. I can tell by the look on his face no one has ever done this for him. A simple act that mothers do every day for their children, Jack has gone six years without experiencing. As I wipe the dirt away tears spill over, running down his cheeks. I offer him a sad smile and keep rubbing away the tears and the grime.

  Once I have his hands and face as clean as I can get them I pull the hoodie over Jack’s head and pull the hood up, securing it tightly with the strings. It reaches his knees, but that’s a good thing because his clothes are covered in blood and afterbirth. With most of his body covered and just his eyes popping out beneath the hood, Jack really could pass as my son.

  I take Ashling out of the wet hoodie and wrap her in my remaining dry thermal. I bag the wet and dirty clothes in a plastic sack, shoving it to the bottom of my bag. Then I put Ashling in the backpack, zipping it most of the way up until only her head is poking out. I put the backpack on backwards so it’s hanging from my chest and then zip my coat around it. No one will be able to see Ashling and she’ll be warm. I also have my hands free to hold onto Jack and access my knife if needed. It’s almost four miles back to Ian and he’s the only person I can go to. If I killed Kieran last night, I may no longer be welcome, but I have to take the chance. I need more information on who these kids are in danger from before I make any other moves.

  “All right, Jack. It’s a long walk where we’re goin’. If you need a break you just say the word, okay?” I reach my hand down and he wraps his tiny fingers around mine tightly.

  “You won’t leave me, right, Darcy?” he asks in a whimper. I crouch down in front of him, supporting the backpack with one hand. His giant blue eyes shimmer at me, holding tears at bay.

  “I promise I won’t leave you, Jack. I will keep you and Ashling safe. You can trust me. I need you to do something for me, though,” I say softly, trying to convey with my face that I’m as trustworthy as he needs me to be. I may be willing to maim and murder to keep myself out of fucked up situations, but I’d do more than that to keep these kids safe.
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  “What?” he asks sheepishly. I can only imagine the tasks the people in his life have asked from him. The wariness on his face tells me there’s beyond-dark shit lurking in his mind. I offer him a comforting smile and run the back of my frigid fingers down his still dirty cheek.

  “If anyone asks, you tell them I’m your mom. When we’re around other people, you call me Mom, not Darcy, okay? It’s the best way I can keep you safe, Jack.”

  He regards me for a moment before responding.

  “Okay, Mommy,” he whispers and reaches around my neck for the tightest hug I’ve ever received. He called me Mommy…not Mom. Jack called his mother Mom. I don’t know if he’s using a different word to be respectful or if the softness I’ve shown him has won me that title. I don’t give a shit, either. When he said that word, something bloomed in my chest that I haven’t felt in my adult life…hope.

  Quinn

  It took three hours to make the journey to Ian’s gym. There’s over a foot of snow on the ground, making it a rough walk. We had to stop for Jack a lot and I carried him on my back for the last mile. My arms are shaking and I’m starting to feel exhaustion take over my body. I’m fighting through it though, because I need to be on my toes right now. I’ve never come to Brogan’s during the day and I can tell it’s busy inside. There’s no way to contact Ian so I have to just go in and find him. Walking into a gym full of training fighters at noon on a Saturday seems really stupid right now, but I have no other options. I need to hide Jack as much as I can, so I improvise.

  “Jack, I’m gonna take off my coat and I want you to climb on my back. When I put my coat back on I want you to snuggle against me and hide in that big hood, okay?” He nods as his little chin chatters loudly.

  Jack quickly climbs on my back and helps me get the coat around us. I struggle to fit the coat around Ashling, but after four tries I get it zipped up. I pull the drawstring at the bottom of my coat as tightly as I can and Jack relaxes down into the edge it creates. I have my arms free this way. The coat won’t hold him long, but it will be enough to find Ian without much issue.