Read Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits Online

Authors: Norma Jeanne Karlsson

Tags: #romantic suspense, #romance, #romantic thriller

Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits (4 page)

So here I am at my first college party surrounded by seven gorgeous men who won’t touch me, other than to put a hand on my back or an arm around my waist to let some reveler know I’m off limits. It’s a bizarre feeling…safe. I’m never going to meet a guy tonight, but I’ve had three drinks and am ready to dance.

“Who’s gonna dance with me?” I ask, hand on my hip.

“O’Sullivan,” is the resounding answer from the group. I raise my eyebrow at him. He puts both hands up in the universal defensive pose.

“They offered so don’t blame me,” he warns.

I stick my hand out to him. “Let’s go.”

He leads me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room, spins me twice and pulls me tight into his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and he puts his hands on my hips. I keep my clutch between my hands behind his neck and we move. Holy shit can he move! Rhythm doesn’t begin to describe what he has going on. He runs his hand up my back, along my arm to the back of his neck and grabs my clutch. I freeze. He looks down at me questioningly.

“I’m just gonna get rid of your purse so we can dance. I’ll give it to one of the guys, don’t worry,” he yells over the music into my ear.

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?

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