Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits (41 page)

Kellerman

Kavanagh just broke the fuck down and his dad had a maniacal shit fit. I’m officially the calmest of this bunch. Ryan and Adam look sick. I know they’re older than Kid, but she’s the momma bear to these guys. They’re lost without her. So am I. I follow behind the Kavanaghs into the Callaghan house, if you can call it that, it’s really a mini castle. It’s dark so I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing there are acres of land around this enormous house. The driveway is long enough that I can’t see the street from where I stand. I’m so far outside my depth with these people, Kid included. I don’t come from money. I’ve made a good deal of it working my ass off, but I don’t come from it. I come from a neighborhood where women and children are victims of hideous violent crime. I keep my head down and follow. It’s no time to think about this shit. I need to get to Kid.

“Dylan, follow me to the kitchen,” Dr. Callaghan says softly, although I can tell it’s an order. I comply willingly.

“I just wanted to get a look at you for myself,” he says as he starts poking around searching for damage I suppose. He pushes and prods my face and neck while I stand with my eyes closed willing this exam to go quicker. “Take your shirt off for me.” I pull off my hoodie and thermal all at once. He starts moving his hands and fingers down my chest then rib by rib. He gets below my ribs and I wince a bit when he pokes around at the black and purple bruising. “Tender?”

“Yeah, a bit,” I lie. It fucking kills.

“Aidan told me he was concerned about your spleen and your liver. I have to agree with him. I can’t do a full examination here in the kitchen. I’d need to get you to the office to have a look under ultrasound to be sure, but I’m guessing you’ve got a hematoma within your spleen and possibly your liver as well. These aren’t life threatening but you need to take it easy. No physical contact in your midsection for a while,” he advises. I’m barely listening. I don’t care what’s wrong with me, after listening to Kav on the plane I’m worried what’s happening to Kid as I sit in this fancy kitchen.

“Thanks for lookin’ me over. I’m good,” I say as I yank my thermal and hoodie back over my head. Just as I do, I hear heels clicking across the tile floor.

“What in God’s name happened to you, Dylan?” shrieks Maggie O’Sullivan. She comes barreling up to me knocking Dr. Callaghan out of the way. “Who did this to you? You tell me right now!”

“Mags, he’s fine. Where’s Sully?” Dr. Callaghan asks referring to Sully Sr., but it reminds me that Kid calls O’Sullivan that. What if I never hear her voice playfully bantering with her boys or her cooing their endearing nicknames again?

“He’s on his way here now with a mobile command unit,” Maggie replies eyeing me over. “I know Brian’s handy work when I see it, Dylan Kellerman. I’ll be havin’ words with him.” With that she stomps out of the kitchen. Maggie O’Sullivan is going to kick her son’s ass. I might want to watch that. Kid would love to see it. I lift my chin to Dr. Callaghan and make my way back toward the noise in the living room.

Shannon

The door opens and the man enters. His eyes are dark with anger and something else I can’t place. His shirt is off and his chest and abs are ripped all the way down to the man V. His face is nothing to write home about, but his body is in good shape. I suppose torturing people is a good workout.

“Kitten,” he sneers, “you lied to me.” I know. “Now I have to punish you for the lie and get the truth.”

“I didn’t lie,” I lie.

“You’re right.” He grins a devil grin. “The password was good.” WHAT?! “But the key’s not in your jewelry box.”

“It was in my jewelry box,” I lie but try to feign innocence.

“It’s not anymore.”

“What if someone moved it or took it because I’m missing?” I’m pulling at strings here.

“My guy assures me that hasn’t happened.” Guy? Who the fuck does he have on the inside of my house? What if they’re doing shit to the boys too? I feel vomit coming again…swallow it back. He comes to the headboard and unties one of my wrists from the bed but still has my wrist tied to the rope. I can’t see what he’s doing but my arm is being hoisted in the air. It’s secured again and he does the same to my other arm. My body is now pulled in a seated position twisted at the waist because my legs are still attached to the foot rail. He moves to my feet, unties them and brings them over the edge of the bed in front of me. He unbuttons my jeans and rips them and my boy shorts down my legs hard. I don’t kick or provoke him. This is already going to be bad.

I can see now my ropes are on pulleys and hooks on the ceiling. Once my bottom half is naked he uses the ropes that are secured on the ceiling to stand me up. I stand as the rope pulls me forward to the center of the room and my arms move out from my shoulders and up above my head. My legs are barely able to keep their balance as I wobble. Once satisfied with my arm position he secures the ropes to a hook on the wall and again on the ground (I think the floor is concrete). He takes rope and ties my ankles individually and spreads my legs shoulder width apart, securing the ropes to other hooks on the floor. I’m now half naked and spread eagle vertically. He hasn’t looked in my eyes this entire time. I would have thought he would want to watch my reaction but nothing.

He stands in front of me fisting his hands while looking at the ground. “It’s time for your punishment, Kitten.” The demon is back in his voice and his eyes, as he trails them up my body to meet my gaze. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a large serrated hunting knife. Bile is travelling up my throat as he slowly stalks toward me. I keep my eyes glued to the blade of the knife as he steps in front of me.

“Don’t move,” he commands in a low growl. I become a statue. He reaches for the hem of my pale green V-neck sweater and begins slicing up the front slowly and firmly. My breathing is metered as I watch the blade pass between my breasts ending at the neckline. He moves to each wrist performing the same slicing move toward my shoulders. Once my sweater is cut off my body he runs the flat of the knife across my bust. I watch the blade intently.

“Don’t move,” he commands again, panting harder than I had noticed. He grabs my bra between my breasts and slices it clean in half. Making quick work of the straps with the blade, he divests me of the last of my clothing. I’m now completely naked, spread eagle, and bound. There is no positive, no angle I can work.

He reaches for the buckle of his belt and undoes it slowly watching me every step of the way. He’s going to rape me now. I’m trying to prepare for it. He said not to fight so I am doing everything I can to relax…easier thought than done. He walks around me and stands near my side outside of my field of vision. I can’t see him, but I can hear his heavy breathing. I hear the sound of his belt being pulled through the loops slowly ending with a jingle of the buckle once it’s free. Then all goes silent. I wait for him to make a move toward my body or unzip his pants, but it’s silent for a long while.

I feel it before I hear it.

Pain is bursting through my skin like fire. My whole body tenses and lurches forward against my binds tearing the flesh where they hold me. This time I hear the
whoosh
of air before the belt cracks against my ass. The pain is indescribable. He’s hitting me as hard as he can and I’m certain my skin is broken. He’s hitting me so quickly that I can’t recover between strokes. I’m screaming out in pain I’m sure of it, but I don’t hear anything. All I hear is
whoosh,
crack
. Something wet is sliding down my legs…blood. I have no idea how long this goes on, but my legs start to give out so he cracks my calves and thighs. The pain ravages every inch of my body. I can feel the searing tear of my skin, each slice the belt makes. Eventually it overwhelms me and I pass out.

I wake to my arms being wrenched higher above my head until my feet (untied now) can barely touch the ground. My head hangs to my chest and the back of my body shrieks in pain. He grabs my chin and rips my face up to him. I look hazily into his eyes. I see the demon twinkling in his dark pools of death.

“Tell me where the key is,” he growls.

“I. Don’t. Know.” I pant between each word. He drops my chin and exits the room slamming the door, leaving my broken body in the blackness. I’m asleep again quickly, but immediately awoken by the pain of my wrists supporting my limp weight. I try to find a comfortable way to hang but there is none. This is no longer my punishment…this is my torture. As time ticks by I try to focus on my family, Kel and Taylor again. I try to figure out who the men that have me are. I think about my father, where this key could actually be. I had guessed the password without thinking but it makes sense now. Snuffleupagus was my favorite. I’m racking my brain, but I’m exhausted and passing out more and more. The ripping flesh on my wrists doesn’t bother me as much anymore or I don’t have the strength to care.

The door opens and the demon comes in wearing a light blue dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves and slate colored slacks. I thought the demon looked evil before, this is beyond evil. He’s like death personified, lifeless and haunting. A new blackness awaits me.

Kellerman

I enter the living room and it’s a
mêlée
of over-communication. Everyone is talking and moving. I can’t process anything other than these people are panicked. I’m not panicked…I don’t know what I am. Lost, I’m lost. I take a seat in the fanciest red and gold patterned chair I’ve ever seen, careful not to put too much of my body weight on it for fear it will crumble beneath me. I look at the faces of people I know well and people I know very little and my heart breaks for all of them. They’ve lost their daughter or sister. The pain on all their faces is tangible.

“Dylan,” I hear my name called by a female voice. I look up to see Mary Callaghan offering me a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” I say taking the bottle from her. She takes the chair next to me, fitting it perfectly. She doesn’t say anything as she studies the crowd as I was before she came over.

“Too much,” she whispers. I look at her and see her blue eyes glistening with tears. “I’m tellin’ you God, this is too much.” She’s pleading for reprieve for her family. I agree God, if you exist, this is too fucking much. Probably not the way to phrase it if I’m talking to God but there you go. I reach over and grab Mary’s hand. She quickly wraps her tiny fingers around mine and grips them with a strength I didn’t think her tiny body possessed. We wait.

The frantic commotion stops as Sully Sr. enters the house. His face is a mask of conviction. He’s working.

“Collin, Hugh, you two outside to debrief with Saunders,” he orders in a bark. Hugh and Collin move quickly out the front doors. “The rest of you listen up.” The room stays silent as Sully Sr. commands. “We haven’t found her. We’ve hit every safe house we know the Mancini family operates and a few that are from other groups. She’s not there. I’ve looked through the footage and agree the perp bears the mark of Mancini, but we aren’t findin’ any connection there. We may have to pull in other resources like the FBI to get this done. I’m holdin’ off on that as long as I can because that shit’ll hold us back.

“At this point we’ve got file after file on any and every known associate of Mancini. We need you all to go through them for us. We’re workin’ with a small task force to keep this quiet. If they think there’s a large-scale hunt goin’ on they’re more likely to cut their losses. That means I don’t have extra bodies here so you guys have to be research right now.” We all nod in agreement but no one utters a word. Going through case files is not what this group wants to do, but we’ll do it if it can find us Kid.

O’Sullivan stands up and approaches his father carefully. Sully Sr. rings him around the neck in a rough hug before dragging him outside. The noise rises again as people discuss what we should do.

“Tables,” I say. Mary looks at me and understands my single word suggestion.

“We’ve got card tables in the basement. Come help me bring ’em up,” she says softly. We both stand and I follow her back into the kitchen and down a full story of stairs into the world’s largest basement. “They’re just over here.” I grab seven tables on my own leaving her one. She tries to argue, but I just move away to climb the stairs. Once back in the mammoth living room I begin setting the tables up. Cal comes over and starts silently helping. Kav and the twins disappear in the kitchen and return with arms full of folding chairs. We all go about setting up our research area as the O’Sullivan boys return with dollies of file boxes. We go about divvying them up and put our heads down to work.