Blackness Within (10 page)

“What?”

“I can see you beatin’ yourself up. It’s written all over your face, just like the fact that you haven’t gotten any sleep. Don’t do that to yourself. You’re doin’ the best you can right now,” he assures me softly, cradling the baby to his chest like he’s done it a million times.

“And to answer your question, yes, I can manage on my own. Kid’s got us all trained. I can change a diaper, while holding the other twin one-handed, singing a lullaby and watching a game in the background. I’m good, Natasha.”

The way he says my name sounds like caramel dripping off the end of a candy apple, sweet and rich.

“Why do you call Shannon, Kid?” I enquire, trying to get my mind back to reality.

“When we met her she was a lot younger than she looked. The name stuck.”

“We?”

“Kavanagh, the big refrigerator-sized guy, and Callaghan, the giant with dimples.”

“And Sully, the fighter with eyes like dark chocolate fondue,” I mistakenly say aloud.

“You a fan of fondue?” he asks with a glimmer of mischief in those eyes.

“I hate chocolate,” I offer coolly, realizing my mistake. I’m giving him hope when there isn’t any.

“That’s a shame.”

I shrug and walk past him down the hall to my room to get the stuff ready for the baby. Sully easily arranges the baby in the carrier before shrugging his sable leather jacket back over his broad shoulders. He stuffs a plush blanket around the baby before zipping him into the coat as much as he can. The man looks adorable with his chiseled manly face gazing softly down upon Junior, whispering sweet words as he does.

“I usually walk him a couple miles a day,” I say quietly, passing Zeus’s leash off. “He’ll understand that you can’t do that. Just walk as far as you’d like. He’ll be happy to be out no matter how long.”

“Junior and I are already workin’ up some heat in here. We’ll walk until he’s good and asleep. When I get back, you and I need to talk.”

“Okay,” I mumble.

With that, Sully strides past me and out the door as though this is the most normal evening he’s had. I’m in so much trouble.

I shake off the vision of Sully walking my dog carrying around a baby and trudge toward the kitchen. I grab my medical bag and a few other things before going to my brother. The withdrawals are worse this time. I’ve seen him detox before. I was younger and didn’t have all of the medical experience I have now, but I know this is going to be a battle.

I push the guest room door open and allow the image in front of me to seep in. I need to see this. I need to remember Blake in this moment because I won’t do this again. I don’t have it in me. I need his promises from earlier to be true. I can’t watch him wither away without the hope of clinging to the whispers of the person I love. This is the last time I’ll witness Blake torturing himself.

I flick on the lamp at the bedside and allow the soft glow to illuminate the nightmare. I can’t even describe him as a shell of the being I know he is. He’s barely human at this point. There’s a pulse, but it’s tormented and struggling to maintain any natural rhythm, craving the drugs that have fed it for years. His hair, once a full lion-like mane to be envied, is now a straggly thin mop that will take months to clean from the oil and filth. Bronze skin used to cover his body. A hue people pay thousands of dollars to create, he was born with. Now that skin is sallow and marred with scabs and scars. When it heals, Blake will always carry the reminder of what living like this did to him.

The worst part, Blake’s eyes. They used to dance with a constant beam, as though he was in on a joke you weren’t. I always wanted in on the joke. Just gazing into them filled me with warmth. I know my brother’s alive. I can hear him breathing, even if raggedly. But when I stare into his eyes as he wakes from a restless state, they’re lifeless and cold. I’d give anything to feel a second of the comfort his gaze used to offer me. Anything.

“How are you feelin’?” I ask Blake the stupid question as I crouch next to the bed.

“Pretty fuckin’ awful. Who’s here?” he groans as he searches for a less painful position. He won’t find it.

“Sully came back.”

“I was pretty sure he would,” my brother grumbles. “I’m gonna get a lot worse, Tosh.”

“I can take care of you,” I assure him, running a cool towel across his brow. He catches my wrist in his boney fingers.

“This shit gets bad. I’ll hallucinate, fight, scream and who knows what else. I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I also know you need me for this baby thing. Can you keep him and I’ll go to a detox center? Once I’m detoxed, I’ll come back and we can figure it out. I promise you, Tosh. We’ll figure it out,” he urges me to understand how desperate he’s already feeling.

“What if we send you to detox and I call social services? I can lie if you make up a good one for me. You can get clean and Junior can get back to his parents or wherever he belongs.”

“Junior?”

“Sully gave the baby a name,” I admit sheepishly, retrieving my arm from his weak grasp. I set about checking his vitals as Blake studies my face, shaking and fighting his withdrawals. No matter what he’s become his underlying strength is trying valiantly to reign supreme. He’s already running a low-grade fever. His tremors are getting worse and his heart is struggling with palpitations. When I finish checking him over, I seat myself on the edge of the bed and wait.

“You can’t call social services, Tosh. I don’t know where
Junior
came from…but I’m in some shit. I just need a clear head to figure out what exactly that shit is,” he mutters dejectedly.

“Blake,” I whisper sadly. “If you’re in danger…” I trail off not wanting to think what that means for my brother.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Not possible,” I snort. “Get some rest while you can. Let me figure out what Sully’s doin’ here and then I’ll find out where I can afford to send you to detox.”

“I fuckin’ love you, Tosh. I’m a shitty brother,” he grumbles, again trying to get comfortable.

“Love you too,” I say before pressing my lips to his forehead.

I close Blake’s door with a click before moving into my own room and collapsing on my bed. I try to rest but find myself asleep before I can put up much of a fight.

O’Sullivan

The bungalow is eerily quiet as I enter with Zeus and a deeply sleeping Junior. I like the name I came up with. I couldn’t keep calling him the baby. He’s a person and deserves a name, a place in the world if just for a brief amount of time.

Zeus saunters to his water bowl in the kitchen while I peel out of my jacket. This baby puts off heat like a laser beam. There’s a puddle of sweat where he’s attached to my chest. I leave Junior in the carrier but free him of the fuzzy baby blue blanket encapsulating his radiating warmth.

I step lightly down the hall, listening for any sounds of life. Nothing. Not even the murmur of a TV. When I enter Natasha’s room, the sight before me causes my chest to hurt. She’s not asleep. She’s not resting her eyes. She’s collapsed in exhaustion face down diagonally across her bed, her feet still hanging off the edge dangling purple slippers from her heels. She’s worn herself into the ground without concern for her own health and needs.

I ease the baby from the carrier and gently lay him in his playpen. Once I’m satisfied he’s settled in his sleep sack, I move to Natasha. I remove her slippers before climbing into her bed on my knees. Scooping her body to my chest, I pull back her white duvet. I ignore how her curves fit against me as if they were made to mesh with my frame. I may pause for a moment to enjoy the sensation.

Natasha doesn’t show any signs that she’s aware that I’m tucking her in as I finish the task. This isn’t fair. A woman this good shouldn’t be in the middle of a shit storm that has nothing to do with her. We can’t choose our family at the end of the day. I understand loving people that live illegally. I’m not a beacon of perfection. I have demons in my closet and so do the people I love. I don’t blame Natasha for protecting her brother, regardless of how he lives. He’s her family and from the sounds of it, he’s all she’s got in this world.

“You smell good,” her succulent voice mumbles as I begin to move away from her.

“I doubt that. Junior and I worked up quite a sweat.”

“Stuck to me all day,” she murmurs drowsily.

“You’re not makin’ sense. Get some rest. We’ll talk once you’re awake,” I assure her before pushing to my feet.

“I love chocolate,” she sighs before her light snoring tickles my insides with something I’m not used to feeling. I’m not sure there’s a name for it, but it feels too good to concentrate on for long.

I don’t have to try hard because Blake’s waiting for me in the hall when I exit Natasha’s room. He’s a rickety bag of bones quaking from withdrawals, covered with a sheen of sweat. He nods his head jerkily toward the living room and then plods in that direction. I follow him there after pulling Natasha’s door closed. If this gets heated, I’d rather not wake her and the baby.

Zeus opens his eyes to inspect us as we enter the room. He seems satisfied as he settles deeper into his bed, his gaze still hovering on Blake. Even the fucking dog knows this guy’s trouble.

Blake plops onto the couch, cocooning himself in a violet throw blanket. I take the other end of the couch and wait. I want to see what route he takes.

“I may be a junkie, but I know you’re no safer for Tosh to be around than I am. What the fuck do you want with my sister?” he grinds out as his teeth chatter.

“I told you. I’m an attorney. She called and needed some help. I’m here to do just that,” I reply blankly.

“You’re so fuckin’ full of shit. I see you lookin’ at her. You’re here walkin’ Zeus, namin’ the baby and puttin’ my sister to bed. Try again.”

“I met your sister the first time two and a half years ago when she took care of my sister at the hospital. It was a stressful situation and Natasha made it more comfortable. I feel indebted to her. When she tried to call my sister for help today, I stepped in because my sister’s on extended maternity leave and Natasha was bawling on the phone so hard I couldn’t get her to calm down. She needed someone to be here for her. I’m not in the habit of abandoning women in need,” I state in a rough accusatory voice.

“You can think I’m a piece of shit all you want. You’re right. I am. A rich boy attorney isn’t gonna make me feel any worse about myself. But don’t mistake my current condition. I love Natasha. She’s the only thing in this world that means anything to me. I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you hurt her. You can tell the cops. Have me thrown in jail. Sentenced to prison. Whatever. You hurt Natasha and I’ll end you,” he growls ferociously.

This guy just made me respect him. He’s fucked up and I don’t know if he’ll make it to the other side of life, but he’s protecting what’s his. Natasha is his and I have no doubt the threat he just made is as real as Zeus is snoring like a chain saw on the floor. I feel a grin break across my face.

“I’m not gonna hurt your sister, Blake. I wanna help her. Tell me how I can help her,” I say in a kind voice.

“Find me a detox center and pay to send me there. I don’t have a pot to piss in and I need to get clean. I don’t wanna detox here with Tosh takin’ care of me. It’ll be ugly and then some. I need a clear head if I’m gonna figure out what kinda shit we’re dealin’ with. My sister has some money but not what you have. Take that burden off her shoulders,” he says as plainly as he can while he struggles to sit still.

It’s not much of a request. I can send him to detox if that’s what he wants. Him out of the equation may make the situation easier to deal with in the long run.

“I can do that,” I agree.

His brow furrows at my easy acquiescence to his request.

“You’ve gotta promise to keep her safe. I’m into some shit and I need to know she’s taken care of while I’m away. I don’t know how long detox’ll take, but I’m guessing it’ll be at least a week, maybe more.”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” I grumble.

“Jesus you’re a pussy,” he huffs, wiggling into the couch a bit more. “You want my sister, this is your only shot. She doesn’t allow men in. Ever. She’s had two boyfriends and those were years ago and I wouldn’t really call ’em serious. If you’re really tryin’ for somethin’ with Tosh, this is it. If you’re lookin’ for a place to get you dick wet, get the fuck out now. She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

This dude doesn’t pull any punches and the withdrawals aren’t helping anything. While I appreciate his truthfulness, I’m also not ready to profess any feelings for his sister. I barely know her. I have to be professional. I don’t do deep and it sounds like she doesn’t do superficial. I can’t even begin to dive into the world of serious relationships.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe. I’m gonna make some calls to figure out how to transport you to a detox facility. Before I do that, I need to ask you a question. What’s your connection to the old Pedowski crew?”

He cuts his icy grey eyes to mine, fury setting them alight.

“The Vojtech Bratva?” he asks about the new crime syndicate that took over when Pedowski was eliminated.

I nod. The fact that he knows the Vojtech Bratva took over for Pedowski is answer enough for how deep he’s in the drug world.