Shrouded in Blackness

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  “All right. You’re here to warn me for a reason. I’ve got two ideas as to why. One, you’re not in the habit of killin’ people so you have some moral objection. I doubt that’s the case, though. Two, you have an issue with your family and you wanna use me to get you out.”

  His head pops up at the last sentence and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  “They’re not my family,” he seethes. There’s the fighter Connor was telling me about. “Do you know anything about me?”

  “Nah, just that you’re a fighter and you killed Castro a few weeks back. Not much else.”

  “My name is Alexei Vasilyevich Vetrov. I’m guessin’ you don’t know anything about Russian names, so I’ll spell it out for you…Vasily Rostov was my father,” he growls the last part.

  “Why’s any of this important for me to know?”

  A knowing and sinister grin sweeps across his lips.

  “Because I know what you did to him. My mother was a whore…is a whore. I’m the well-known-secret product of their relationship. I think you know what that means, about how I was raised, what he did to me.”

  A long tense silence stretches between us. Rostov was a fucking monster. I’m happy Quinn fucked him up like she did. The man across from me is a warrior, but the wounds that piece of shit inflicted on him are lurking behind his haunting eyes. Now I feel bad for the kid, which isn’t a normal thing for me, but I see Jack in him. What Jack could have become without Quinn. I’m hooked.

  “Rostov got what he deserved,” I state firmly, offering Alex a kind gaze.

  “I want out. I don’t want anything to do with them. I’ve been tryin’ to find a way for a long time. I’m a good fighter. I love it, but I don’t want to fight for men that fed me to a monster and keep feedin’ kids to monsters just like him. Can you help me?”

  “You want me to go to war with the Russians because you want out?” I ask, shocked. That’s a big fucking favor.

  “I want you to fight me.”

  “Huh?”

  “I want you to fight me tonight. Make a deal with the Russians that if you win you get me. If I win, they get the territories you run that they want. They’ll make the deal because they’re certain I’ll win.”

  “And how do I know this isn’t the plan? You come in here with your sad fucked up story and I agree to climb in a ring with you so you can fuck me up?” I grumble, feeling set up and played.

  “Because I saved your son,” he states plainly, staring hard at my face.

  “Come again?”

  “I found your son when Rostov was passed out. I got him the fuck outta the house, paid his whore mother never to come back and made sure that happened.”

  “Shit,” I breathe out, throwing my head back against the hot leather, rubbing my dílseacht tattoo.

  After about five minutes of burning my skin with friction and calming myself down I clear my throat.

  “You can’t throw the fight. Everyone’ll know if you do. If we fight, we fight. There’s already a shit load of money ridin’ on you, a last minute change could cause issues.”

  “You can beat me,” he says encouragingly, like I need the coaxing.

  “I will beat you,” I snort.

  “I’m a lot bigger than you.”

  “You’ll hit the canvas harder.”

  “I’m a lot younger than you.”

  “Means you’re fuckin’ stupid.”

  “I’m undefeated.”

  “So is my older, smaller ass. Call me when you hit your twenties undefeated and I’ll give you a high-five for your shitty accomplishment. Call me when you hit thirty undefeated and we can talk,” I finish, offering him a pointed look to shut the fuck up.

  “I’ll be twenty in six months.”

  “Good for you,” I snark.

  “If I keep working for the Russians I won’t see that birthday,” he states solemnly.

  “I’ll beat your ass tonight to make sure you don’t work for them another day. If this plan of yours is gonna work, I need to start makin’ some calls. Did they send you in here to get me to fight?”

  “Yeah. They said to do anything necessary to get you in the ring. Then I’m supposed to end you.”

  “Anything necessary bein’?”

  I know the answer before he offers it.

  “Threaten your family. There’s a car outside your house, waitin’ to take your woman and kids if you refuse.”

  “Motherfuckers!” I roar. Connor and Owen blow through the door guns drawn.

  “Go to my house, now. Get my fuckin’ family here!” I instruct.

  Owen offers a chin lift since Connor’s already running down the metal stairs barking orders at men while he moves.

  “You good here, boss?” Owen asks, motioning the barrel of his piece at Alex.

  “Get my goddamn family here and I’ll be fine. You bring anyone you find outside my house to me. Don’t let Quinn or the kids see shit.”

  “On it.”

  He slams the door and he stomps down the stairs. Pissed off Doyle brothers are fun to watch. Not now because I’m fucking fuming, but generally it’s a good show.

  “If you ever know there’s a threat around my family again, you lead with that shit,” I growl at Alex with a threat of bodily harm in my eyes.

  “You wouldn’t have listened to me if I’d told you upfront. You’d have put a bullet in my head,” he responds pointedly.

  “You’re right. Don’t do it again.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to your family,” he growls in a territorial manner that catches my attention.

  “See that you don’t.”

  He nods and I start making phone calls. The Russians may just want some territory, but they just bought a war. No one fucks with my family.

  Quinn

  Connor comes into the basement with a scowl on his face that looks like it hurts. I quickly climb out of the recliner I was in, approaching him with caution. Please let Kieran be safe.

  “Need you to pack up the kids,” he whispers, trying not to alarm Jack. Jack is oblivious, watching Transformers for the second time today.

  “Okay,” I whisper back, hoping he’ll give me more information, but he just stands there with a look on his face that says move quickly.

  “Jacky boy. Let’s go see your dad,” Ian says, understanding what’s going on without so much as a word passing between him and Connor.

  “Cool,” Jack responds and runs up the stairs to get ready.

  When I get in the kitchen, Owen is loading Ash into her car seat. I didn’t even hear him on the monitor—stealthy bastard.

  I quickly pack everything we need for a night out and dash to the bedroom to get dressed. I know there’s a fight tonight so I need to look presentable. I throw on skin tight black jeans, a slinky bright blue racer-back top and a pair of black and blue heels. I rip my hair out of the bun on top of my head and run my fingers through it. I want to put on some make-up, but I doubt I have time. I do a quick sweep of mascara and pink lip gloss. Done.

  “You can’t wear that,” Connor informs me as I step into the living room.

  I look down at myself and crinkle my brow. I think I look nice.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just can’t.”

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t know the rules of how girls are supposed to look, but you look too good to be out in public.”

  My cheeks flame and I look away.

  Connor’s phone buzzes as Jack joins the room with Ian in tow.

  “I’m ready. Uncle Ian helped me pack up some toys and games,” Jack tells me, threading his hand into mine.

  “Gotta go. Can you put on a jacket or something?” Connor asks me.

  “It’s June Connor,” I chastise, moving toward the kitchen, pulling Jack along.

  Owen quirks an eyebrow at me as I move past him. Jesus, they’re like two older brothers.

  “Ready?” I ask, avoiding his disapproval of my completely normal outfit.
/>   He snorts and nods.

  We all pile into the SUV. As I’m maneuvering to get in the driver’s seat, Connor leads me around the car and puts me in the passenger seat. I guess I’m not driving. Connor climbs in after, grumbling about how close the seat is before moving it all the way back. I’m short—what did he expect?

  Owen leads us to The Castle in his truck while Ian follows behind us in his car. The ride is silent save for Jack talking every once and a while. I’m nervous. I know something is wrong, but I can’t tell what.

  We park on the street in front of The Castle next to Brogan’s. It’s a large red brick building that looks plain and unassuming, a perfect place to run the Dílseacht Crew from.

  Connor scoops Jack out of his car seat while Owen grabs Ashling. Jack hangs on his hip as Connor pulls me into his side firmly. He’s nervous. His massive body is tense and his eyes are scanning the street feverishly.

  We walk into the gym area and find it’s pretty empty. There are a few men setting up tables and chairs, but other than that, all is quiet. Connor leads us to the grey metal stairs that rise to Kieran’s office just as he steps out of the door.

  Kieran’s face is masked in fury. His hands are balled into fists at his sides. He’s also not wearing any clothes other than a pair of shorts. I’m sure it says something about my perspective in life, but damn he looks hot right now.

  “Daddy,” Jack yells, climbing off Connor and running up the stairs.

  Kieran’s fury melts instantly as he pulls Jack into his chest.

  “You’re all stinky,” Jack says with a crinkled nose, making no move to get away from the stench.

  “Thanks, bud.” He rumples Jack’s hair before setting him down, leaving a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “Ian, can you watch the kids for a few?” Kieran asks with a bit of fury creeping back into his gaze.

  “No problem,” Ian responds, taking Ash’s car seat from Owen before plodding up the stairs. He pulls Jack away from Kieran and they disappear into the office next to Kieran’s.

  “Quinn,” he growls in a throaty voice I’ve never heard. I quickly ascend the metal stairs, my heels clacking loudly as I go. When I reach the top, Kieran grabs my hand and drags me behind him down the hall toward the apartments. I have to basically run to keep up with him.

  He opens the door, pushes me through roughly and slams it. I stand in front of him in the middle of the room, waiting. Either I’m in trouble or I caused trouble.

  “I’m gonna take a shower. All I want to do right now is rub my sweat all over your body so everyone knows you’re mine, but I have the feelin’ that’ll piss you off, so I’m takin’ a shower. You wearin’ that fuckin’ outfit is makin’ this real hard. Don’t. Move,” he orders and stalks into the bathroom.

  I don’t move. Kieran’s a live wire right now, so I bend my rules of not being bossed around. His temper has been better since the night he became the head of the Dílseacht Crew, but only a little. I knew what I was getting into when I stayed with Kieran. He’s mean, surly, quick tempered and tolerates no bullshit. I can live with all of that because underneath he’s the kindest man I’ve ever known. He would never hurt me or allow anyone else to. I’m safe and loved when I’m with him and that’s all I need in this world. I don’t need rainbows and romance, I just need Kieran.

  He steps out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his hips and steam rising from his shoulders. There are beads of water dancing over his skin and I feel a flush creep over me as I realize I want to lick them off. I’m out of my mind right now. I shake it off, but not before Kieran notices.

  “Like something you see?” His voice is sultry and sex-filled.

  “Everything.” My voice is breathy and almost a whimper. I wish I could pull off sexy, but I can never quite manage.

  “I’d love nothin’ more than to get my dick in you, but I can’t right now. I’m fightin’ tonight so I need the motivation.”

  Sex haze gone.

  “You’re what?!” I screech.

  “I’m fightin’ tonight.”

  “No, you’re not,” I order, puffing my chest up for an argument.

  “I am,” he says plainly, taking a few steps toward me. I take a step back from him, halting his progression.

  “Why? You haven’t fought in two years. You run your own crew. Why the hell are you fightin’?”

  “Business,” he responds pointedly.

  “Ah, so this is the moment where the woman is supposed to stand by her man and let him take care of business?”

  “Yes. You know this life, Quinn. I don’t have to explain it to you.”

  “Fine. I’m not watchin’, though. I’ll go over to Ian’s with the kids.”

  I know my place and if he says it’s business, I won’t push. He’s with me because I get this and I’m usually okay with it. I don’t want him to fight. He’s wound up, meaning this is important—something’s riding on this fight. So I keep my mouth shut. Not happy, but silent.

  “No, you’ll stand next to the ring and support your man,” he demands harshly.

  “Don’t make me do that, Kieran. I’ve seen enough bloodshed to last two lifetimes,” I whisper, looking at the ground.

  Shannon’s therapist—my therapist—has been really helpful over the past few weeks. She thinks I’m doing well, considering what I’ve been through. I haven’t given her all of the details about the last few months or even the last eight years, but she knows about Sean and my parents. That’s enough for now. I don’t want to add any new topics, especially not Kieran fighting.

  “Quinn, look at me,” he says in a hushed tone, moving into my personal space.

  I lean my head back and gaze into his murky blues. They’re angry.

  “If I’m fightin’, certain things are gonna be expected and you bein’ by my side is one of those things. Me comin’ out with a win is the other. You’re not afraid to watch me fight. You’re afraid to watch me lose. I’m not gonna lose, Quinn. Don’t doubt me.”

  “Never. I’ve never doubted you and I never will. Fights aren’t a sure thing, though.”

  He cups my cheeks with his rough hands and presses a soft light kiss to my lips.

  “You’ve never seen me fight, Shorty,” he murmurs into my mouth with that cocky Kieran Delaney swagger. Then he kisses me, drinking from my mouth. He ravages my lips with his teeth before plunging his tongue in my mouth. His minty, sweaty, sweet taste sucks me in, causing my legs to tremble with want.

  I sink to my knees, removing his towel in one brief snap of my wrist. Before he can think, I open wide and sink him to the back of my throat.

  “Fuck!” he roars, grabbing my head by a fistful of my hair and tips my head back slightly so that I look up into his eyes. I keep my lips wrapped around him tight as I make eye contact and slide to the tip and then back down as far as I can get him in my throat. I set a slow pace, torturing him. Quickly he takes control, holding my head in place stroking himself deep. I flick my tongue and moan as he fucks my throat.

  I run my hand up his inner thigh before cupping his balls. His breath hisses past his teeth, his head falling back in ecstasy. He plunges deeper into my mouth causing me to gag, but he keeps going. Something changes in his demeanor as he pounds away at me, becoming forceful and harsh. He growls and pounds deeper. I try to stay calm but the roughness and lack of care he has is starting to make me uncomfortable. Before I can push him away from me and make this stop, Kieran rips himself from my mouth stepping away on shaky legs. I look up at him, confused and hurt.

  “Always feels good to get in the back of a throat. Thanks for the work up,” he says in a cruel tone, panting and heaving with his dick standing painfully tall.

  I climb to my feet glaring at him.

  “Did you have fun usin’ my mouth as inspiration?” I glower.

  “Quinn,” he says like he just came out of a haze.

  “Fuck you, Kieran. How’s that for motivation?” I run from the room before he can grab
me. He won’t chase me through The Castle naked. I get two steps before I run into a solid wall of muscle.

  “Sorry! Are you okay?” a deep dark voice asks.

  “I’m fine. Sorry,” I grumble. “Excuse me.” I move around him without ever looking at his face. I know he’s a fighter based on the god-like sculpted frame he sports. No point looking at him, the only fighter I want to see just made me feel like a fluff girl on a porn set.

  I walk into the office where Ian is playing with the kids.

  “Come on, Jack,” I order harsher than I mean to. Jack jumps at my tone, but moves quickly toward me. I scoop him up on my hip after grabbing Ashling off her play mat on the floor.

  “Quinn?” Ian calls cautiously.

  “I’m not feelin’ well. I’ll see you later,” I lie.

  I stomp from the office and fly down the stairs, searching the area for Ash’s car seat. I find it up against a wall under the stairs. I buckle her in quickly and heave the handle into the crook of my arm, slide my purse across my chest, set Jack on my hip and make my way to the door.

  There are a few more men here, but the place is still mostly empty, making my getaway easy. I kick the door open forcefully and unlock the SUV. Once Ash is loaded in, I get Jack in his seat.

  “Mommy, are you okay?” he asks in a small timid voice.

  “My tummy hurts, Baby. I’ll be fine,” I coo softly, rubbing his dimple with my thumb.

  After Jack’s safely strapped in his seat I shut his door and pull my knife out of my purse. Kieran brought me my Yarborough after he took out my uncles. He’ll be sorry he did if he comes for me. I never got the story from Kieran, but I’m guessing I’m not safe right now so I feel better armed. I hear the door of The Castle open behind me and spin quickly to confront whoever is exiting.

  “Whoa,” a gigantic man says, holding his hands up in the universal “don’t shoot” pose.

  I keep my knife pointed at him as I move to the front of the car.

  “I don’t think Kieran would want you to leave,” he says softly.

  I remain silent as I round the hood. Once the SUV is between me and the Hulk, I lower my knife and climb into the driver’s seat. I sit, moving the electric seat forward so I can touch the pedals. Of course, before I can get myself situated, Kieran tears out of The Castle, seething. I hit the locks and jam the seat-moving button harder as I turn the car on.