Shrouded in Blackness Read online

  I get to the bottom step and tie my hair in a bun before Connor scoops me up and heaves me to the ground. I do the release moves he’s taught me and he lets me off easy. I’m covered in his sweat and mine when I hear a voice from my past.

  “Darcy?” he calls.

  Connor stops his movements when my body goes rigid. I wait for a long moment, hoping I’m having some kind of weird auditory hallucination. I look up from where my face has been buried in the mat to see I’m not hallucinating.

  “Sean?”

  Connor slides off my back and picks me up off the floor, setting me in front of him, leaving his hands around my waist. Owen has stopped jumping rope and slides next to us.

  “I had to see if it was true. Where have you been?” Sean asks, shaking his head from side to side, trying to figure out if he’s hallucinating.

  “Around. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “What? After all this time that’s all you’ve got to say?” he asks with a tinge of anger to his voice. Connor’s hands constrict against my skin, but he remains silent.

  “I’m not sure what you’re here lookin’ for. I can see you’ve moved up in the organization,” I say, nodding toward his neck. The O’Boyle Brothers mark men with a Celtic cross on the back of their necks that wraps around the sides. I can see Sean’s peeking around from beneath the collar of his jacket.

  “I’ve done all right for myself. Can we talk alone for a minute?” he asks, eyeing the men protecting me.

  “No,” Owen growls.

  “Last I knew her, she could answer for herself,” Sean growls back.

  Sean was a kid when I left, seventeen and lanky. He’s now filled out and scarred up from a life of crime. His sandy hair is swept to the side, revealing a small scar on his forehead. His green eyes are stormy from a life of seeing torture and death. Sean’s muscles flex and twitch below his tight T-shirt and jeans, itching for a fight. He’s as big as Connor and Owen.

  I see the familiar bulge under his jacket revealing his gun. I don’t want trouble. I knew they’d find me eventually. No time like the present.

  “Let’s step outside,” I say calmly.

  Connor pulls me roughly into his chest, indicating he doesn’t like my answer.

  “Connor, can you grab my jacket from the office please?” I ask sweetly, patting his hands. Reluctantly, he pulls away from me and stomps up the stairs. Owen takes the opportunity to pull my body in front of his.

  He leans into my ear and whispers, “Kieran won’t like this.” I nod my understanding. Kieran won’t like this, but Sean won’t do anything to me. I can see it in his face. He still has a soft spot for me.

  Connor returns with my jacket and by the weight I can tell both my knives are hidden in the inside pocket. Good man. I slide it on and walk to the back door of the gym, Sean in step behind me.

  The metal door slams shut as I lean against the brick wall across from it, waiting for him to say whatever it is he needs to get off his chest. He steps in front of me, a little close for my liking, but I remain relaxed. Or at least I look relaxed as I cross my arms across my chest and palm my Yarborough.

  “Eight fuckin’ years and you never came to me. Eight fuckin’ years I thought you were dead. Now I find you and you’re here. You’re fine. Explain this shit to me, Darcy,” he growls into my face.

  “I am dead as far as you or my uncles are concerned.”

  “Jesus, you still got a fuckin’ mouth. You think you bein’ Kieran Delaney’s woman is gonna stop me? You’re wrong. I don’t give a shit how bad that motherfucker is. You’ve been mine since you were born. It’s time to come home.”

  Wow. I was not expecting that. Sean was my one and only boyfriend. I’ve known him my whole life and our parents pretty much raised us to be a couple when we grew up. There were always conversations of our future wedding and the grandchildren we would give them. Shit changes when people are tortured and murdered at the hands of the family Sean now loyally serves.

  “I have a home, Sean. It’s nowhere near you or my uncles. Don’t lie to me and tell me you’ve been laying alone in a bed waitin’ for me,” I scoff.

  “Pussy’s pussy. You are mine.”

  “Fuck, you’re delusional. You think you can come here and tell me what to do after all this time? Go to hell, Sean. Tell my uncles to join you there.”

  I push off the wall, nudging him with my shoulder. Sean flattens his body against mine, slamming me hard against the brick.

  “You’ve forgotten how I work,” he purrs against my ear. “Maybe you need a reminder.”

  The metal door across from us bangs open and Sean turns to see who’s interrupting. His body is ripped from mine, thrown to the ground, as Kieran wails away at his face. I remain where I am, watching the blood bath.

  Sean gets a good hit on Kieran and flips him to his back, returning the crushing blows. Kieran quickly shoves Sean off and tackles him back down to the ground. They roll around for a while before Kieran slams Sean’s head into the concrete, knocking him out. Heaving and panting he gets to his feet, slowly trying to calm down his rage.

  “Get inside now!” Kieran roars. I quickly move around Sean’s body and go in the gym. This is not the time to argue or dig my heels in about being bossed around.

  Connor is throwing Jack in the air while Ian is pulling Ashling out of her car seat as I enter the gym. Owen side swipes me carrying me into the therapy room. He sets me on a table and starts feverishly looking for any marks on my body.

  “Owen, I’m fine. Just a conversation,” I insist, pushing him back a little.

  “Kieran’s gonna fuckin’ kill me. I can’t believe we let you walk out there with him. I didn’t recognize him,” he huffs, scrubbing his hands over his face violently.

  “I’m okay. Kieran’ll get over it. I’ll keep you safe,” I tease a little.

  He grunts a weak sound in his throat as Kieran barrels through the door, pulling me off the table by my waist without pause. Once he has us in the bedroom he slams the door shut and heaves me onto the bed. Pacing at the side like a caged animal rubbing his dílseacht tattoo over his shirt, his face marked with pain and fury, I wait.

  “You’re not that fuckin’ stupid,” he growls in a low, menacing tone. “You’re not stupid enough to go in an alley by yourself with an enforcer for the O’Boyle Brothers. YOU. ARE. NOT. THAT. STUPID!!” the caged animal roars.

  I remain silent. There’s no point talking to him when he’s this wound up. So I wait for the beast to subside.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he instructs and stalks into the bathroom again, slamming the door with such force I’m surprised it’s not falling off the hinges.

  As I hear the shower start there’s a small piece of me that wants to leave the room to show him he doesn’t run me, but I won’t do that to him. I’m not playing games with Kieran. If he needs me to stay put right now I will. Not because he told me to but because he needs it and I can give it to him.

  He makes quick work of his shower and stomps out of the steam filled room with only a towel around his hips. His entire upper body is covered in tattoos. I love looking at the black and grey ink, almost fluid as his muscular frame moves. The man in front of me is power personified. I feel safe with him even when he’s looking at me like he is right now…pissed.

  “Sean was my boyfriend,” I start to explain and Kieran flinches like I just slapped him across the face. “He apparently feels that I’m still his and came back to take me home. That’s what you walked into. Him attempting to stake his claim. He wouldn’t hurt me, Kieran. That’s why I went to talk to him alone in the alley. I would have cut him before he knew it was comin’ because he still thinks of me as the high school girl I was.”

  “He was your boyfriend?” Kieran asks like he’s finally seeing me through a thick fog.

  “Yes.”

  “Sean Casey was your boyfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your parents knew this?” he asks shocked.

  “We we
re practically betrothed. I’ve known him my whole life, grew up together. He lived five houses down from me. It was expected that we’d be together. I didn’t have a choice, really.” I shrug.

  “So you have a thing for criminals?” he asks in a snide tone.

  “No, I grew up with criminals. The typical dating pool wasn’t within my grasp as a teenager. Sorry to disappoint you. Would you prefer I had a wholesome preppy boyfriend? Is that a better option for you?” I say with irritation in my voice. Why does this matter to him?

  “He was touchin’ you,” Kieran grumbles, taking a few steps toward the bed.

  “He was thinkin’ about touchin’ me and gettin’ ready to get cut.”

  “He was in your space. Had you pinned against a brick wall in an alley. Quinn, I don’t give a shit if he’s part of your past, you can’t be alone with him or anyone else that used to know you.” Kieran’s finally starting to calm down as he sits on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry I worried you. I was fine. I can take care of myself. Been doin’ it long before you came along. Sean Casey doesn’t scare me.”

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders from behind, inhaling the scent of the industrial combo in his damp hair. His muscles are taught and straining, still hyped for a fight. I rub my hands across his chiseled chest, kissing his neck softly.

  I’m stopped when I hear a commotion out in the gym. Kieran growls, stepping out of my embrace and dropping his towel as he walks butt ass naked into the therapy room. I scamper behind him. He stops and pulls on some sweats from a storage bin in the corner. That’s when I see the commotion and break into a sprint toward my kids.

  Quinn

  “Jack!” I scream. He fights to get to me, but can’t break from the embrace of the man holding him. Guns are aimed at all of the fighters trying to get to my son. Ian is panting and growling, smashing Ash to his chest, a gun pointed at her head.

  I haul ass, not flinching at the guns until I’m right in front of him.

  “Put my son down, now,” I seethe. A cocky smirk stretches across his face as Jack struggles and fights.

  “Is that any way to say hello to your uncle after all this time, Darcy?” my uncle Connall asks with warning in his tone.

  “Put. My. Son. Down!” I roar. His dark brown eyes narrow at me before he slides Jack down his body. Where the fuck is Kieran? I thought he’d be right on my heels. He’s nowhere to be seen.

  Jack heaves himself into my arms, shaking violently. I shush and rub his head, kissing his face over and over, glaring at my uncle.

  “Brogan!” Connall barks. “Bring me that baby.”

  “Fuck you, O’Boyle!” Ian roars.

  I turn to Connor who’s pumping his fists violently, shooting daggers from his eyes at my uncle, a gun pointed at his chest by Sean (who looks like shit).

  I pass Jack to Connor, stepping in front of Sean’s gun.

  “You point that thing at my son, it’ll be the last thing you do in this life,” I fume at Sean who lowers his gun with shock on his face at my boldness. I turn back to Connor and give him a knowing look to hide Jack’s view of what I’m about to do. He puts a hand on Jack’s head, pressing it firmly into his neck. I glance at the therapy room to find Kieran, but he’s not there. Would he really abandon me in my hour of need? This feels too familiar. I shake the feeling off, keeping my head in the game.

  I spin quickly, pulling my Yarborough out as I move, ending with the tip pressed firmly against my uncle’s heart. His face pales for the briefest moment before a broad smile splits his face.

  “I see you’ve developed a skill set in your time away from me. You’ll make Sean a suitable wife after all. Not a coward like your mother,” he snorts.

  I spit in his face and pierce his skin slightly with the tip of my blade. A mask of rage slips over his face. He moves to raise his hand to wipe his face and I move my knife again, halting his movement.

  “She’ll need to be trained, Sean. Gone a bit feral in the streets,” he says calmly, never leaving my gaze.

  “Get your men outta here now or I’ll gut you,” I whisper, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. The threat of wrath in my tone is unmistakable.

  “Time to come home, Darcy. You can bring your bastard children if you must.”

  I snort.

  “I am home. Get. Out. Now!”

  The back and front doors of the gym fly open, men in black tactical gear racing in, weapons drawn, screaming at people to drop their weapons. I hear the resounding clunks of metal hitting floors and mats around the gym. I keep my knife drawn, never removing my eyes from my uncle. They can arrest me if they must. I’m not letting him go.

  From my periphery I see an official-looking man walk in the front door, striding confidently toward me.

  “Ma’am please lower your weapon,” the man says calmly near my side.

  I don’t comply with his request. My uncle smirks at my defiance like he’s proud. I want to finish what I started. I want to plunge this knife through his chest until the hilt bruises his flesh.

  “Quinn, put it down,” Kieran’s voice quietly filters through the rage in my brain.

  My hand relaxes slightly as Kieran runs his hand over mine, helping me lower my weapon.

  “Connall O’Boyle, you’re under arrest for…” the official next to me rattles off a bevy of charges, but my ears stop listening. I quickly spin away to find my kids. Kieran has Ash curled into his chest while Jack is still clinging to Connor.

  Sean is on his knees with his hands on his head being read his rights. I spit on the floor in front of him. He shrugs his shoulders and smiles at me, like that turned him on.

  I pull Jack into my arms from Connor’s chest. He clings to me tightly as I move through the mass of people into the therapy room. I set Jack on a table and start inspecting every inch of him the same way Owen had done to me only a half hour ago.

  “Did they hurt you?” I whisper. Jack shakes his head no, but his chin trembles.

  I’m going to make what I did to that Russian look like child’s play when I’m done with my family.

  “Quinn, he’s okay,” Ian soothes from behind me. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. They almost got my kids. Fuck!

  I nod my understanding and pick Jack back up as three men enter the therapy room. It’s Collin, his twin brother (hot times two) and, I’m guessing, their father, who looks damn good for an older man.

  “You all right?” Collin asks Kieran.

  Kieran offers him a chin lift. Connor, Owen and Ian stand behind me as Kieran sweeps a protective arm around my shoulders. I want to punch him for leaving me out there alone. I don’t do it, though; I just stand there holding Jack.

  “I’m Stephen O’Sullivan. These are my sons Collin and Hugh,” the older man introduces.

  I nod.

  “I understand you’re Darcy Quinlan. The O’Boyle Brothers’ niece?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes for my unfortunate relations.

  “Me too.”

  “I have a medic with us if you’d like to be looked over. They could check the children if you’re concerned.”

  “Thank you, but we’re fine.”

  I know these people are Kieran’s family, but they’re still cops. I don’t do well with cops. When you grow up the way I did, you’re trained from a young age to smile and say nothing other than “I want my lawyer”. Living in the streets has only made me more wary.

  “We’ll need to take your statements before we go. Why don’t you sit tight while we clear the scene? I’ll send in Collin and Hugh to talk in a little bit.”

  “Thanks,” Kieran speaks for me.

  “No problem, Kieran. Thanks for the call.”

  Kieran nods and the cops leave the room.

  “Quinn,” Connor’s voice shakes from behind me. I spin around and furrow my brow. He looks guilty as hell. “I’m sorry. Jack was runnin’ around when they walked in. I couldn’t get to him fast enough. I tried.”


  “This isn’t your fault, Connor. You kept Jack safe for me. Thank you. Thanks to all of you,” I whisper, clutching my son a little tighter.

  Owen’s face is sporting a nasty bruise above his brow. He’s been pistol whipped, no doubt trying to get to my kids. Ian’s perma-scowl is deeper than usual and his hands are shaking. I bury myself in his chest, smashing Jack’s body between us. His strong arms sweep around my back pulling me in tight. I don’t have my father anymore. Ian’s the closest thing I’ve got.

  “You did good out there, Quinn,” he murmurs into my hair. “Scared the shit outta that fucker.”

  I nod against his chest and pull in a shallow breath. Jack’s breathing has evened and his body’s limp. He’s asleep. I move back from Ian’s arms and gaze up into his honey hued eyes. I pull his head down to mine and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

  I haven’t spoken words of love to anyone other than the kids in a long time. Those words have been tainted in my mind for the last eight years. But looking at Connor, Owen and Ian right now, I know I love them. They’ve shown me over the last few months that they’d do anything for me in a way I didn’t know existed. They’ve shown me love.

  “I love you guys,” I whisper after I pull back from Ian’s cheek. I make eye contact with each of them after I say it. Ian beams a smile at me that washes away his perma-scowl. Owen furrows his brow because he doesn’t do mushy love stuff, but the corner of his mouth tips. Connor looks at me with giant round eyes in shock before a lazy grin captures his mouth.

  I smile sweetly at the three of them before I move past Kieran into the bedroom, his footfalls following closely behind. Once in the room, I slide Jack into the bed and take Ashling from Kieran, placing her near her brother. I tuck them in before I turn to face Kieran.

  I reach my hand back and slap him across the face with every ounce of strength I’ve got.

  “You left me.”

  Kieran