Shrouded in Blackness

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  I push the door open and I’m smacked in the face with the smell of blood and sweat. Jack is completely hidden under my hood so I know he won’t see anything traumatizing. I walk quickly toward the stairs that lead to Ian’s office, hoping that he’s in there. I make it no more than a few steps before a glistening mountain of man steps in my path. I have access to my knife, but I can’t really fight him off here in the gym where I spy at least thirty other men. Play it cool.

  “Where you headed?” he asks, looking at the weird bumps protruding from my front and back. He studies me long and hard before returning his eyes to me with a questioning gaze.

  “I’m here to see Ian. Is he up in his office?” I use the sweetest, most polite voice I can muster and flash him the sexiest smile I can fake. I’m not adept at either, but I’m improvising.

  “I’ll take you to him,” the mountain responds, staring at my back again as Jack wiggles a bit. I act like there’s nothing to be seen and start walking toward the office again.

  “He’s not up there, sweetheart. Follow me,” he orders and grabs my hand. I want nothing more than to snatch it back and knee him in the balls for touching me, but obviously I don’t. The mountain winds and weaves through the gym as all eyes focus on me, many glaring, others just curious. I step a little closer to the mountain to avoid eye contact with any of them.

  Finally, the mountain stops outside a large metal door and knocks twice loudly. Jack jumps at the sound and I rip my hand from the mountain to steady Jack on my back. The mountain looks down and gently peels back the hood to reveal Jack. I quickly spin around to keep Jack shielded by my body and the wall that’s now at my back. I grasp my knife in my cargo pocket, readying myself for whatever is going to happen. I know I can’t fight him, but I could play the super-crazy-knife-wielding lady card.

  “Mommy,” Jack whimpers.

  “It’s okay, Baby. Everything’s okay,” I console him, keeping my hand on my still hidden knife while staring down the mountain. The mountain looks concerned and a little freaked out that I’m hiding a child under my coat. Ashling starts to cry and the mountain’s eyes bug out of his head. Yeah, we’re quite the sight.

  “Are you okay?” the mountain asks with sweet concern in his voice.

  “I need Ian,” I say in a feigned sob. If I know anything it’s that men don’t do well with emotional women. His eyes flare and he pounds the door again. After a few beats I hear it slide inches off to my right.

  “What, Connor?” Ian growls.

  “Girl here for you, boss,” Connor replies, indicating in my direction with his big green eyes.

  The door moves a little and then Ian spots me.

  “Quinn. Christ, Quinn, are you okay?” His voice is panicked as he grabs my shoulders, staring into my icy blues with his honey glazed eyes. I nod sharply as Ashling lets out another scream. Ian’s brow furrows at the sound. He reaches out and unzips my coat just enough to see her head and sucks a breath sharply between his teeth.

  “Mommy?” Jack says in a shaky voice. Ian takes a step away from us at the sound of Jack’s voice.

  “Jack, we’re fine. Uncle Ian’s here now,” I say, staring Ian down, trying to get him to play along and catch on quick.

  “Connor, clear the gym out and then come back here with Owen,” Ian instructs harshly, never looking away from my face.

  “You got it, boss,” Connor responds and turns on his heel back into the gym area.

  “Come on,” Ian growls at me, leading me through the metal door. On the other side I realize it’s some type of therapy room, tables and medical supplies everywhere. I head to the first table and lean against it so Jack is supported and I can get my coat off. Once I peel us out of the coat I quickly spin around, pick Jack up on my hip, and he snuggles into my neck, placing one little hand on his sister’s head.

  “Quinn, sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” Ian asks in an almost pained voice.

  “A lot, Ian. I need you to help me. I’m sorry to come here like this in the middle of the day. You don’t owe me any favors, but I don’t have anywhere else to go. Will you please help us?” I plead. I fucking plead, because if he says no I don’t know what I’ll do.

  “You know I’d do anything for you. What do you need?”

  I feel my whole body relax and I lean against the table behind me. Jeez, I’m tired.

  “I need a lot, but right now I need baby supplies, clothes for Jack, food and a shower.”

  “Done. I’ll send the boys out to get stuff when they come back here. You’re safe here, Quinn. I’ll be right back.”

  Ian slides the metal door open before slipping through it and pushing it shut with a soft click of the latch. The gym sounds quieter now than when we arrived, even behind the closed door.

  “Mommy, I thought your name was Darcy,” Jack murmurs into my neck.

  “It is, Jack. My name’s Darcy Quinlan, but people call me Quinn. You doin’ okay?”

  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  I push off the table and move to the back of the room hoping there’s a bathroom back here. There are two doors at the end of the room. I choose the one on the left. When I push it open it’s pitch black, so I search for a switch with my hand. A click sounds within the room and a lamp illuminates the room.

  “You come to finish the job, Shorty?” Kieran calls out from a bed at the end of the room. Shit!

  “Is there a bathroom back here?” I ask blankly, avoiding his question. Kieran sits up on his elbows and takes in my appearance of being covered in children. He doesn’t answer, just points at the door across from his bed. I step in the room and quickly make my way to the door. I go in with Jack and flip the lock. He does his business and then reaches up for me to carry him again. There’s a large tub-shower combo in here so I decide to get him clean first.

  “Wanna take a bath?” I ask through a huge smile.

  “What’s a bath?” he asks curiously. My stomach drops as I realize this child has never had a bath. He doesn’t even know what one is.

  “I’ll show you.”

  I lead him over to the tub and turn on the taps, getting the water nice and warm before plugging it. As the water fills, Jack’s beautiful blue eyes get huge with wonder.

  “It’s like a fountain,” he whispers, turning to me with a giant smile.

  “Can you get out of your clothes on your own? I can step outside if you want.” I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I don’t really know the rules about naked kids and strangers, but I’m guessing I should give him some privacy. Jack pulls my hand roughly, glaring harshly at me.

  “You promised,” he growls.

  “Jack, I’m not leavin’ you. I was just gonna give you some privacy if you want it.” He furrows his brow and I realize the concept is lost on him. “Are you okay if I stay in here while you take a bath with no clothes on?”

  “You won’t let those men in here to hurt me right?” he asks, turning his gaze to the ground, embarrassed. I quickly tip his chin up to look in my eyes.

  “No one will ever hurt you again,” I say in a fiercely protective growl.

  “Okay,” he whispers and the edge of his mouth curves, puckering a cute dimple. I smile and rub my thumb across it. He quickly peels out of his clothes and I see my fears for him come to life. There are scars on his body from what I’m guessing are cigarettes being put out on his skin. He has rashes all over from not being washed regularly. There are bruises of finger prints on his arms, legs and hips. If I ever find who did this to him, I’ll slit their fucking throat.

  I pull myself together and help him climb in the bath. The relief and excitement that beam from him brings tears to the back of my eyes, but I squash them quickly.

  “This is so cool!” he squeals.

  “I know!” I respond with the same amount of enthusiasm.

  I pull Ashling out of the backpack. She doesn’t look good. She’s limp and her skin is yellowing. I need to feed her. There’s a soft knock at the door and Jack jumps, throwing
his body into the corner of the tub, shielding himself as best he can.

  “Jack, you’re safe. It’s just Uncle Ian,” I coo softly. His gaze leaves the door, but he doesn’t move.

  “Yes,” I call out to the knocker.

  “Quinn, you okay?” Ian questions.

  “Kids needed a bath. We’re fine. I really need to feed the baby, Ian. She doesn’t look good. Can you get me some bottles and formula really fast?”

  “I already sent Owen and Connor out to get stuff. I’ll tell one of ’em to hightail it back. Should I call someone?”

  “NO!” I yell making both kids jump. “No, don’t call anyone,” I say softer.

  “Okay. Can you tell me what size clothes Jack needs?”

  I look at Jack who has gone back to sliding around in the bathwater which is now a dirty grey color.

  “Four year old size stuff,” I guess. I have no clue.

  “On it. There’s towels and stuff in there. Just come out when you’re all done.”

  “Yup.”

  I take Ashling over to the sink and warm the water up. Once it’s warm I wet a washrag and clean her all over. I don’t know if I can submerge her so I don’t risk it. She wakes up and starts rooting around. I stick a clean wet rag near her mouth and she sucks it back. I’m sure I shouldn’t be giving her water on a rag, but it’s all I can do right now.

  As she suckles away her little eyes open up and they’re the same piercing blue as Jack’s…and mine. It’s like they were sent to me on purpose. I don’t believe in stuff like that, but damn if that’s not the feeling I have coursing through my veins right now.

  I wrap Ashling in a towel and go back over to Jack. He’s as happy as a clam in this tub. Best thing my eyes have seen in eight years, maybe in my entire twenty-six years of life, actually.

  “Hey, Jack. Let’s let the water out and give you a shower. Then we can eat,” I prompt, expecting a fight. He nods happily though. I drain the tub while he watches the water funnel down with amazement on his face.

  “I like it when you call me Baby,” Jack admits quietly. I smile broadly as I turn the showerhead on.

  “Okay, Baby,” I say softly and his face lights up brighter than the sun. I squirt some soap in his hand while supporting Ashling up against my chest with one arm.

  “Scrub-a-dub,” I instruct. He goes about scrubbing and wincing as the soap stings his rashes, but he never complains. He rinses off and I make him repeat the process one more time, helping him scour his scalp. His hair has a slight curl and it’s shaggy around his face. It’s been cut before or, I should say, hacked. I’ll cut his hair later. Now that it’s clean I can tell his hair is almost as dark as mine. Ashling’s fuzzy head is also sporting dark curls. If someone out there is trying to send me a sign that these children belong with me, I’m starting to get it.

  I turn the water off and gently pat Jack dry before wrapping him like a burrito. He looks up at me and I know he wants to be carried so I gather him up on my hip and stride out of the bathroom, both kids in my arms. I may be small, but I’m strong. I could do this all day if it brings them half the comfort it seems to.

  I open the door and I’m met with the naked chest of Kieran Delaney. His ripped pecs and arms are covered in tattoos, mostly Celtic designs. There are a few scripts, though I don’t chance trying to read them. A bandage stained with bright blood covering the wound I inflicted on him glares at me from beneath his ribs. I feel bad now, or I would if I had the energy.

  “Need a hand?” Kieran asks softly. Jack nuzzles into me tightly.

  “We’re good,” I reply in a soothing tone meant for Jack.

  “Why don’t you set them in the bed while I grab you all some soup?”

  I hold his murky blue gaze for a long time before nodding. Why the hell is he being nice to the person that left him for dead twelve hours ago? My guess is he’s plotting some type of revenge, though I can’t imagine him actually harming me or the kids. Still, I don’t trust him.

  Kieran leaves the room and I climb in bed with the kids. I lay Ashling in my lap and pull Jack underneath my arm as I rest my back against the headboard. The room is basic beige with white linens and a honey-hued, wooden queen sized bed. There’s a matching dresser next to the bathroom door with a TV on it. The bedside table is whitewashed with a lamp. Like I said, it’s basic but comfortable.

  I close my eyes for a moment when I hear Jack’s light snoring. Just a few minutes of rest.

  Kieran

  Quinn showed up here an hour ago strapped down with two kids like a fucking Sherpa. I didn’t know she had kids and her body in no way indicates that she just gave birth. I’m at a loss here because the look in her eye is that of a protective mother bear. Jack clings to her as if his life depends on it, but that baby doesn’t look good. Quinn probably didn’t have any prenatal care and gave birth in an alleyway somewhere. No wonder she stabbed me instead of getting in my car. I’m a fucking prick, but tell me something I don’t know.

  I walk back in the room and all three are sleeping huddled together in the same space half of me would take up in the bed. These kids look just like their mother. Ice blue pools for eyes and raven hair. Fucking breathtaking. Jack wakes up when I set the tray of soup down on the dresser near the end of the bed. His piercing eyes cut to me and he further wiggles into Quinn’s side. He’s afraid of men and I’m a scary-looking man.

  “Hey, Jack,” I whisper. He starts to shake but holds my gaze like a brave little man. “You hungry? I made some chicken noodle soup for you and your momma. I bet if we’re real quiet I can turn on some cartoons while we eat.”

  His eyes cut to the TV and then sharply back to me. He thinks I’m trying to bribe him so I can hurt him. My stomach turns at the thought of why he fears that.

  “You excited about bein’ a big brother?” I ask as I grab a bowl of soup and sit on the end of the bed with my back to the three of them. I turn on the TV and lower the volume to a slight hum before turning on some old-school cartoons. Jack doesn’t respond so I go about eating and watching cartoons. My side is killing me, but I’m too stubborn to let that affect me. I changed the bandage after Quinn eyed it earlier and looked like she wanted to stab herself. She was protecting her kids…I don’t blame her for stabbing me. I’d stab me too.

  I feel the bed move behind me and keep my eyes trained on the TV. Wile E. Coyote is getting his ass handed to him as usual. Jack appears at my side, wary to get too near me. I lean forward, grimacing in pain, to grab him a bowl of soup and realize the bowl is damn hot and too big for him to hold.

  “This bowl’s real hot, Jack. I’ll hold it and you feed yourself, ’kay?” I whisper while watching Roadrunner smash Coyote with a boulder. I chuckle and hear Jack giggle. Best fucking sound ever!

  He scoots a hair closer to me and spoons a bite into his mouth. After the first spoonful the kid gets up on his knees, leans over the bowl and goes at it like a champ. Two minutes pass and he’s scraping the bowl clean. I place the empty bowl back on the dresser and wince when I sit back a bit.

  “You got a bad booboo, Mister,” Jack says quietly.

  “Yeah. I’m okay though.” Your mom stabbed me didn’t seem like the appropriate response. “You think your momma would let you have a cookie?” I finally turn to look at him and my breath hitches when I meet his eyes. This kid is gorgeous. That sounds like the girliest damn thing I’ve ever thought, but he is. He’s still wrapped in a towel and shaking a little. I don’t know if he’s cold or scared.

  “You cold, bud?” He nods. I want to scoop him to my side, but I’m pretty sure that’ll get me stabbed again. I stand up and go into the bathroom to grab another towel. When I come back he’s watching every step I take, cautious and curious.

  “I’m gonna wrap this extra towel around you and then you can give me the wet one from underneath,” I explain, taking a tiny step in his direction. His husky-like blue eyes cut through me, but he makes no move to avoid my advance. I reach around him, gently wrapping him in the dry
towel and then quickly turn my back to give him privacy.

  “Thanks, Mister,” his voice shakes.

  “I’m Kieran,” I say before I turn back. He’s holding out the wet towel, snuggling further into the dry one. I throw the wet one on the floor in the bathroom and then snatch a plate of Oreos from the tray before sitting down in my original spot. I hold the plate out the same way I did the bowl and Jack takes one quickly, giggling at the TV. He scoots closer to me as I peel an Oreo apart.

  “Don’t break the cookie!” he scolds under his breath.

  “This is the best way, see?” I say, showing him the creamy inside before licking it clean. Once I have only the chocolate left, I dunk them in a glass of milk and pop them in my mouth. His eyes bug the fuck out and he takes another cookie, mimicking my way of eating it. When he’s ready for the milk I see his hesitation because I’m resting the glass on my thigh. Before I can raise it for him he scoots against my side and plunges one half of the cookie in.

  “See, the goal is to get it mushy without it falling off in the milk. It’s like a game,” I inform him. He concentrates hard and pulls out the cookie at what I recognize is the last second before disaster and pops it in his mouth. “You’re a pro, Jack.” He beams the brightest smile my eyes have ever seen before helping himself to another cookie and snuggling tightly into my side. I can’t help it, I pull him closer with my arm around his shoulders and I feel him relax a fraction when I don’t try to do some sick fucked up shit to him. When I find out who hurt this kid I’m beating him to a pulp and then feeding him his own dick before I piss in his gouged-out eye-sockets.

  Jack finishes the plate of cookies in quick measure just as Ian, Owen and Connor walk in the room. He immediately cowers into my chest as they enter.

  “You’re safe here, bud. None of those guys are gonna hurt you. I promise,” I whisper into his hair. I cut my eyes to the guys, warning them to tread lightly around this kid and they nod in acknowledgement.

  Connor Doyle is a beast of a man. He’s six-foot-three, 250 pounds of ass-kicking brutality in the ring. Never been beaten…never will be. Outside the ring, the guy’s a pussy cat. His green eyes are in pain just watching the kid’s reaction to him being in the room. Connor has a kind face with only one scar marring his right eyebrow and a buzzed blond head. He’s the kind of guy that will walk your grandmother home just because.