Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits (38 page)

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Authors: Norma Jeanne Karlsson

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

BOOK: Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits
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Taylor grabs my arm as I move past him. I didn’t fight back with the guys, but I will go at it with this piece of shit.

“Get your fuckin’ hand off me you meddling bitch,” I snarl.

“Ooh, testy.” Taylor mocks. “Just thought you should know it was my arms she fell into when she saw those pictures. My tongue that caressed her tears away. My kiss that left her breathless. She’ll be fine without you.” I see red and pivot on him faster than he anticipates. I connect my right fist directly with his temple and he hits the floor like a ton of bricks.

“Shit,” Aidan says under his breath.

I move to the door, realizing I only thought these guys were my friends. I’ve been in this position before though, you think you have friends then the going gets tough and you’re on your own. I can’t believe they trusted Taylor without ever giving me the chance to defend myself.

“Thought you guys were my friends,” I say over my shoulder. “Fuck you.”

I make my way into the house to find Kid. I’m sure she’s devastated. I can fix this…I hope she doesn’t shoot me before I have the chance. I go to the office first. She’s not here. I run up the stairs yelling for her, checking our room (it feels like our room, not just hers). She’s not here. I check every bedroom and bathroom. She’s not here. I run down to the basement hoping she’s working off her anger. She’s not here. Fuck she left. I run to the garage. Her Shelby’s here. All the guys’ cars are here. I make my way back in the house. She left on foot? No way would Taylor let her leave on foot. Unless she took off while he was in the pool house. I rip my Nexus out of my pocket and hit her speed dial number. It starts ringing and I hear her BlackBerry in the kitchen. She left her BlackBerry. She left her BlackBerry? She would never leave her BlackBerry. Something’s wrong. I run into the pool house just as Taylor is coming to.

“She’s gone.”

Kavanagh

My world is moving in slow motion, a torturous lethargic motion that I can’t break free from. The moment Kellerman burst through the door I knew something was wrong. I hadn’t felt right for that last half hour, but I ignored it because I was focused on Kellerman. FUCK!

“She’s gone,” was all he said and we sprinted from the pool house. We all ran screaming from room to room. He was right, she’s gone. Now we’re in the office scouring all of the video from our state-of-the-art security system for some shred of a clue as to where she went. Kid wouldn’t just take off. Not without her BlackBerry or letting one of us know or leaving a note or leaving a text…something. This is bad. My hands are shaking. The last time I shook like this I found Kid underneath Liam thirteen years ago in my bedroom broken and lifeless. This can’t be happening again.

“Flower delivery,” Taylor says bringing me out of my head.

“What?” I ask.

“There was a flower delivery. Look at the van.” Taylor points at the monitor where a large white van with a flower logo pulls into the driveway. The driver gets out but keeps his face hidden from view beneath his hat. He rings the doorbell, again shielding his face from the camera on the porch. Kid answers and takes the flowers from him. He follows her in the house. There’s no camera in the foyer so we lose visual.

“Try the camera in the great room. Maybe there’s a view down the hall,” Cal suggests urgently to Taylor. Taylor pulls up that footage and scrolls to the correct time. It’s a shitty image, but we can see Kid put the flowers on the table and sniff. She just stands there like she’s stuck in time. A few moments later the delivery guy comes into view raising his hand up above her head and slamming it back down around her head or neck. The image is too far away to tell which.

“FUCK!” I roar. She goes limp falling back into his waiting arms. He scoops her up, carrying her out of the house. Taylor quickly shifts back to the other footage of the porch and then the driveway. The “delivery” guy carries her hurriedly out of the house to the van. The van door slides open and a pair of arms covered in black sleeves reach out for her. As the arms lean out so does a head and neck. His head is covered in a black ski mask. He pulls Kid into his arms roughly and then retreats with her into the van. The delivery guy quickly rounds the hood, climbs in and reverses out of the driveway at a normal pace. I watch the van leave our driveway, carrying the beat of my heart with it.

Shannon

I’m being carried. Cradled to a firm chest encapsulated by strong arms. My eyes flutter open to see a man I’m unfamiliar with. I look to my left to realize I’m being carried onto a plane, a small private plane. I try to wiggle and push against the chest I’m pressed into but my arms are heavy and weighted.

“Sit still,” his voice commands roughly. I look up into his face. He’s not looking down at me so I only have a view of his dark stubble covered jaw and his neck, which is thick and muscled with a tattoo on it.

“Please,” I plead. I don’t know what I’m pleading for with that word, but it’s all that I can formulate.

“Don’t worry,” he says clinically. Uh, bull-fuckin’-shit. He’s putting me on a plane after kidnapping me. Don’t worry? Fuck him. My limbs are so heavy and I feel foggy. I’m guessing I’ve been drugged. I try to wiggle free again to no avail.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he grumbles. He flops my limp body on a couch at the back of the plane. “Get the drugs,” he says to someone behind us.

“No please don’t drug me. I’ll be good,” I implore. I certainly won’t be good, but I’m not going to tell him he’s about to endure the fight of his life once I can move my fucking arms. Another person approaches and I can see the needle and syringe out of my periphery.

He nods at the syringe wielder. I feel the sharp prick in my arm and then the sting of the injection. He sits down in a chair next to me not looking in my direction. I flop my arms around myself trying to draw some comfort as the drugs take over. These arms are not my home. I’m not safe.

Kellerman

“Where the fuck were you?” I bellow at Taylor after watching the love of my life being carried away.

“Kellerman, that’s not gonna help anyone right now. Stay focused,” Cal chides me.

“I’m fuckin’ focused. I wanna know how she’s taken from her home and her
bodyguard
misses it,” I sneer.

“I’d like to know too,” Aidan pipes in. Until a few hours ago Aidan and I were on the same page regarding Taylor. I’m hoping in light of everything we’re still on the same side.

“I was in the bathroom,” Taylor answers blankly. I don’t respond. Fighting with this fuckwad isn’t going to get us anywhere.

“I’ll call the police,” O’Sullivan jumps up from the grey leather wingback chair he’s surely ruined gripping the arms violently.

“They’ll just slow us down and push us off her case,” Taylor responds. “If we call them we have no control. If we work this ourselves, we determine how it goes down.”

“We don’t have the resources, Taylor,” Kav scolds. “How are the five of us supposed to find her? We’re what, an hour behind them? We need help.”

“I’ll call in some favors and you guys can call your families. We can do more on our own,” Taylor says while typing away on the keyboard not looking at any of us. I don’t like this. He’s in the bathroom when she’s taken and he doesn’t want the authorities in on this. What the fuck? I look over at Aidan who seems to be thinking the same thing. Neither of us comments.

“The plates are fake. The flower company is fake. We need something to go on,” Taylor says without looking at us again. He’s in the zone. Maybe he’ll be able to find her. I don’t give a shit if this prick loves Kid, if he finds her I’ll be forever in his debt. I can’t reconcile in my head if he’s a threat or a gift. Damn it this is beyond fucked up!

“Each of you start scouring the footage. Look for anything that’s identifying,” Taylor instructs. Aidan and I move to a laptop, Cal and Taylor work at the desktop, and Kav and O’Sullivan take another laptop. The six of us are silent. Aidan and I go through the final footage, Taylor and Cal take the indoor footage and Kav and O’Sullivan comb the beginning. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check as I see Kid’s seemingly lifeless body carried from her house by some psycho.

“Keep it in check,” Aidan says under his breath to me. I look at him and he’s staring at my fists. My knuckles are white from pumping my hands mindlessly. I nod but continue fisting my jeans to relieve a small amount of tension as we both go back to the footage.

It’s been forty-five minutes and no one has found anything. We’re each looking at less than a minute of footage. If there is something to find I think we would have found it by now. I decide I’m going through it one more time and then I’m calling the cops.

I click through the video frame by frame. I’ve looked at this so much everything is blurring together. The delivery guy leans to hand off Kid when I finally see it.

“There,” I whisper to Aidan.

“What?” he questions.

“His neck. What’s that on his neck?” Aidan zooms in and takes a sharp breath.

“Mancini,” he says barely above a whisper and all the Chicago boys gasp.

“FUCK!” O’Sullivan roars ripping his phone out of his pocket. “Dad,” he says into the receiver. “Someone in the Mancini family has Kid.”

Kellerman

I don’t know who the Mancini family is, but I’m guessing by the response in the room this is bad. Strike that, this is beyond bad, it’s fucked.

“Let’s get your face cleaned up while they figure out what to do,” Aidan says to me. I look at him like he’s insane. You think I give a flying fuck about my face right now?!

“I’m good,” I scoff. He’s part of the reason I’m in this condition at the moment.

“Kellerman, we’re gonna have to go after her. You need to be at your best. You can’t be out in public covered in blood with a gaping gash under your eye. Come-the fuck-on!” Aidan demands as he stands up. I follow him to the kitchen silently. I notice a large vase of flowers on the entryway table. Fuckers actually brought her flowers. The last thing she heard about me before they took her was that I basically cheated on her and got the other woman pregnant. I can’t run to her and beg forgiveness. She’s somewhere alone with men that are doing God knows what to her, and I’m sure the thought of me is bringing her no comfort. I feel bile rise in my throat for the first time. I haven’t let my mind wander yet. Wandering is painful.

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