Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits

by Karlsson, Norma Jeanne

  So here’s how it works. Nicky’s unnamed operative is undercover within a shipping company somewhere that’s somehow connected to all this shit. He must be undercover as an accountant or something because he sends Nicky daily account information from the shipping company. Every evening Nicky sends me pared-down intel, I then take that intel and meet with Butch at the hospital. I visit with Mia and Butch goes through the accounts and whatnot, giving me his insight. I send Butch’s notes back to Nicky when I get home and we start again the next day.

  Great system right? I have no fucking clue. I don’t know if we’ve found anything helpful for Kel. I’m convinced the stuff we’re looking at is a front for drug trafficking, but I don’t know if it links back to Cassie. Nicky is keeping typically quiet, only telling us our work is good. Nicky agreed to let us run through the intel because his team is swamped with missions right now and ours would fall to the bottom of the pile according to him. When I asked Butch to help he jumped at the chance saying he feels indebted to me for everything I did with Mia while he was away. I informed him he’s not indebted to me because I love Mia and thus went a round-robin of “I need to thank you” and “no thanks necessary”. Anyway, he agreed and has been instrumental with help.

  “Shannon, come take a look at this,” Butch says from the table at the end of Mia’s bed. I put down the horrid magazine I was reading to Mia and make my way to him.

  “What’s up?” I ask flopping into the chair next to him. He looks at me over the top of his reading glasses. His rough scarred face is soft and gentle as he smiles a fatherly smile at me.

  “You’ve put on some weight,” he says softly.

  “You callin’ me fat, Butch?” I joke.

  “You should see her put food away,” Thomas says chuckling from the seat next to the door that he silently occupies every night. “She ate three chicken breasts, half a pound of sweet potatoes and a salad the size of my head for lunch today. Put me to shame.”

  “That’s impressive,” Butch says to Thomas his eyes bugging out a bit.

  “I’ve gained seven pounds and I feel like a new woman,” I admit with a smile directed at Thomas. He feeds me lunch every workday. He’s a former football player turned bodyguard that loves his body, so he cooks to keep it healthy. I no longer skip meals or inhale salads on the run. Thomas makes me sit down every day and eat at a normal pace. Needless to say, my guys love him and think he’s the Holy Grail of taming me. I cook in the evenings and on the weekends, and I can proudly admit, the guys were right. I looked gross and it was time to get my ass in gear. It’s fully in gear now.

  “You look good, Shannon. I’m glad to see you comin’ back into your own. I was worried,” Butch says softly pulling his glasses from his face, his hand rubbing my forearm.

  “I didn’t mean to worry anyone, but I get that’s the effect I was havin’ on everyone around me. I’m okay Butch. I was okay before too, I’m even better now though,” I explain putting my hand over his. Bizarre as it is, Butch has become important to me. To think only a few months ago I wanted to have him in prison and as far away from Mia as I could muster. I enjoy spending time with him and watching him with Mia. He loves her the way that my father loved me; it beams from every inch of him. That beam warms me too.

  “Okay, enough mush,” Butch orders. “Look at this. Hidin’ drugs for this company is all about bait. A fishing vessel or vessels purchase bait from some company. We’ll call it company A. Company A orders the bait from a local fishery. Then our shipping company, company B, ships the bait supplied by company A to the fishing vessels. Here’s where they’re hiding the drugs. Company B still has bait every time they return to port, yet they deliver a full order of bait for the next round. They aren’t comin’ back with bait.”

  “How can we tie this to Yates? Company A and B aren’t their companies.” I’m hopeful we can find a connection because at this point I feel like all we’re doing is damning a shipping company.

  “That’s what I just found. Yates fishes for the bait, delivers it to Company B, and picks up anything that isn’t sold,” Butch says with a half grin. “Woulda found it sooner but they’re good at coverin’ company names. I found it here on the port manifest. I guess they haven’t paid off the port officials. The other thing that strikes me as odd is who ships bait? If you’re a fisherman don’t you catch your own bait or buy something locally?”

  “Good question. I’ll ask Kel when he texts.” My face gets soft at the thought of Kel and I thumb his pendant. He’s been in contact more since the five week drought. Every few days I get a text from him checking in or telling me he loves me. We don’t talk shop. He made it clear that he wants none of our time intruded upon by this situation and I’m fine with that. He talks to Kavy about business.

  “You ready for the baby to come home?” Butch asks stacking up the papers for me.

  “Don’t get her started,” Thomas warns. I offer him a glare in return.

  “I’m gettin’ there. The nursery is painted and the guys spent last weekend putting together the swing, the bouncer, the stroller, the crib and moving furniture around until I got it how I wanted it.”

  “Yeah it was a fun weekend,” Thomas snarks.

  “Hey,” I scold. He smiles a sweet smile at me.

  “She’s gonna be great at this. Never seen a woman pay so much attention to puttin’ a crib in the warmest part of the room. She had temperature gauges on every wall findin’ the best place. Baby’s won the lottery of moms.” Now Butch offers me a sweet smile. I look at my hands embarrassed. I know I’ve gone overboard, but I want everything to be safe for the baby.

  “Don’t do that,” Butch orders tipping my chin up with a finger. “You’re gonna be great at this. You do what’s in your gut, Shannon. Look what you’ve done for Mia, you’re good at bein’ a mom. Doesn’t matter how that baby gets to you.”

  “What if he doesn’t get to me?” I ask before I can stop myself. That’s the fear ruling my mind. If we can’t make this drug trafficking link stick, I won’t have a baby. I won’t have Kel. Thomas stands up gliding across the room in two steps. He crouches in front of me forcing me to look in his hazel eyes.

  “You’re gonna get your baby and your man back. Life has thrown you enough shit, it’s time it threw you some good. You are a fighter, Shannon and if this angle doesn’t work you’ll keep fightin’. We’re all here fightin’ for you too. We believe in you,” his deep voice is soft yet powerful. I nod in agreement.

  “Every time I’ve ever thought about a future something fucked up has happened and ripped it away from me. I’m scared,” I whisper as Thomas leans in and wraps his gargantuan arms around my body pulling me into his chest. Brick wall doesn’t begin to describe him.

  “You’re safe now. I swear to you I’ll keep you and your family safe. Don’t be scared,” he murmurs into my hair. I just sit there in his arms allowing the safety he provides to wash over me. I know he’ll keep me safe. “Let’s get you home.” I nod.

  Thomas stands and moves to gather my jacket. I look over at Butch who looks equally worried and happy. I grin at him before standing.

  “I’ll head out too,” Butch says handing me the papers. We kiss Mia and tell her we’ll see her tomorrow before following Thomas to the elevators.

  “Love you, Shannon,” Butch whispers into my ear as we near the elevators. He’s never said that to me before. I look into his face and see familiar familial love gleaming from his eyes.

  “Love you too, Butch,” I whisper back. He wraps his arms around my shoulders pulling me into a crushing embrace. We stand like that until the elevator dings. He lets me go leading me into the elevator with a hand on the small of my back. I have three fathers, two mothers, nine brothers, a cousin (Kieran is ever present), a Karl, a Thomas, a Nicky and now an uncle (Butch). Yeah, he’s my uncle. My family keeps growing. If I can just get my man and the baby here I’ll be complete.

  We push out of the doors into a cool spring night. It smells like rain, damp and he
avy.

  “I’m over here,” Butch says indicating he’s parked to our left.

  “We’re this way,” I nod toward the parking garage in the other direction. Butch offers Thomas a chin lift and squeezes my arm before turning toward the parking lot.

  Thomas leads me down the path to the parking garage when I hear tires squealing in the distance. I pause for a moment trying to see who’s in such a hurry. I make out an old Cutlass flying into the parking lot where Butch is parked. My pulse calms as I pull my gun from my bag, drop my bag and take off running. Thomas pushes me behind him and sprints across the street. The gunfire erupts from the car in rapid succession before we hit the curb (not aimed at us). I turn up my pace as does Thomas running toward the taillights of the Cutlass. The car makes a quick bank across a grassy divide to get back out on the main road. I stop, line up my shot and fire four shots. I land each shot blowing out the two passenger side tires, the car spins out of control and crashes into a large maple tree. I sprint toward the car with Thomas, who again moves in front of me shielding me. Three guys pile out of the car running in different directions. I shoot the closest one in the knee and take off after the guy that peeled out of the backseat. Thomas leaves me to chase the driver.

  “Stop fuckin’ runnin’!” I scream as I gain ground on the kid. He’s a kid, a teenager. “You don’t quit runnin’ I’m gonna start shootin’ again!” The kid drops to his knees and puts his hands over his head. I have no way to secure him. What the fuck do I do now? I put my gun to the back of his head. “Don’t move,” I seethe. I look behind me to see Thomas carrying the driver toward me, unconscious.

  “Fucker wouldn’t cooperate,” Thomas huffs dropping the driver’s body on the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Get to Butch. I got this,” he instructs. I take off running toward Butch before Thomas finishes his sentence. I hear sirens in the distance and two guys in scrubs are on Butch.

  “Butch!” I wail dropping to my knees next to him.

  “Ma’am please step back,” scrub-wearer orders. I ignore him and stay where I am. Butch is covered in blood. I can’t tell where he’s shot, but there are multiple wounds in his chest. He’s coughing and gurgling blood. I grab his hand and try to stay out of the scrub-wear’s way. Of course he gets shot outside a children’s hospital. They can’t treat him here.

  “Take. Care. Of. Mia,” Butch gurgles out between coughs looking into my eyes.

  “No, Butch you fuckin’ hang on. You hear me! You don’t leave her!” I yell leaning toward him. He closes his eyes. “BUTCH!”

  “Ma’am we really need you to move!” scrub-wearer two growls pushing me aside. An ambulance just pulled into the parking lot and Butch is quickly loaded in, I climb in unasked. I don’t give a shit if this allowed or not.

  “Hospital?” the ambulance worker asks me as the ambulance speeds off.

  “Truman,” I respond quickly knowing it’s only a few blocks away (across the street really) and the best place for a gunshot victim. They work on Butch at a fevered pace but they’re losing him. They start C.P.R. and I close my eyes. I can’t watch him die. He can’t die. This is too familiar…too painful.

  The ambulance screeches to a halt and multiple people are outside waiting for Butch pulling him out and rushing him in. I jump out of the ambulance to follow only to be stopped by a hospital employee.

  “Are you family?” the woman asks me.

  “He’s my uncle,” I reply without hesitation.

  “This way,” she directs me to a waiting room. I look down at my burlap colored linen pants and white button down covered in red bloody patterns. My hands and arms are stained with Butch’s blood, getting dry and itchy. I don’t move to wash off or change clothes. I sit in silence and wait.

  Kavanagh

  O’Sullivan, Cal, Finn and I fly into the emergency room at Truman Medical Center.

  “Butch Rossi,” O’Sullivan barks at whoever is standing near us. I scan the room and see Thomas standing near some chairs. I grab O’Sullivan’s arm dragging him toward Thomas, and I pray Kid is with him.

  As we approach I see her. She’s sitting in a chair covered in blood staring at her hands.

  “Kid,” I whisper dropping to my knees in front of her. Her head comes up and her eyes meet mine. She’s furious. Not what I was expecting. She stares at me for a moment and then extends her hand toward me with a folded piece of paper clutched tightly. I take the paper and unfold it carefully. It reads: Let sleeping women lie or you’ll be next.

  I read it again and again trying to make sense of it. My brow is tightly furrowed and I can feel O’Sullivan, Cal and Finn reading over my shoulder trying to make this connect for them as well.

  “They thought I was meeting Butch to find Kathy’s murderer. He’s here because of me,” Kid explains blankly. Sleeping women…Mia and Kathy. FUCK! “A nurse brought that to me a few minutes ago. I figured it was something about Butch so I ripped it open and ruined any chance of forensics with all the blood on me. Not that there would be any.”

  “Shooters are in police custody. They’ll get somethin’ outta them,” Thomas booms from above me. He’s not covered in blood. What the fuck happened?

  “What the fuck happened?” I ask in disbelief. I take the seat next to Kid, O’Sullivan following to her other side. Cal and Finn take the seats across from her. Thomas continues to stand watch.

  “Heard tires squealin’ and she took off,” Thomas explains. “We got there too late to stop the drive-by, but Shannon took out their tires when they tried to make a run for it. She capped one in the knee, chased another down and held him at gun point while I got the driver. Just kids, man. Stupid fuckin’ kids. KCPD has already come and gone. No charges against me or Shannon. Just a visit downtown to give a statement tomorrow.” Kid is seething next to me. She wants to hurt someone, make someone pay for this and not the kids they got already.

  “I kept the shooters while Shannon went to Butch. Dude’s in bad shape. Still in surgery,” Thomas says shortly as he scans the room on high alert.

  “Kid, let’s get you cleaned up,” Cal says tenderly. He’s the calm gentle giant. Kid nods and follows him to a bathroom or something. I don’t fucking know. I scrub my hands over my face trying to make sense of this shit.

  “They didn’t come at you?” I ask Thomas.

  “Nah, straight at Butch.”

  “She was safe?” I ask in an accusatory tone. Thomas turns his gaze from where Kid is behind a door with Cal toward me. If I was a weak man I’d be scared (I’m not admitting to being scared, just so we’re clear).

  “She was safe. Behind me at all times. Shots she took, I had her covered. She’s precision with a gun. She was NEVER in danger,” he growls at me. I give him a chin lift. If he says she was safe, she was safe. “That’s a concern.” Thomas says indicating his head toward the threatening note.

  “Fuck yeah it is,” Finn scoffs grabbing the note. “Looks the same as the note from Thanksgiving. It’s gotta be someone from Butch’s old life, his old boss Pedowski or another distributor.”

  “So now we have to worry about this and the Yates shit. Jesus fucking Christ!” O’Sullivan bellows. Kellerman needs to know and so does Cooper. At least I can call Cooper.

  “Cooper,” he answers in a gruff huff.

  “It’s Kavanagh. You got a minute?” I ask as pleasantly as I can right now (so not very).

  “Yeah.”

  “Kid was involved in a drive-by tonight,” I explain clinically.

  “WHAT?! Is she okay? Where are you?” his voice is at high alert and I can tell he’s now moving quickly.

  “She’s fine. Caught the shooters. She capped one chased down another. Thomas got the last. They fucked Butch up though. You know who Butch is right?” I ask realizing he may not know.

  “Yeah I know who Butch is. You’re sure she’s all right?”

  “She’s as good as to be expected. Fuckin’ pissed as all get out. Got a threatening note while she was here in the waiting room. That did
not help her mood.”

  “You know who the note’s from?”

  “I’ll give you Finn. He’s more up to speed on that shit,” I say handing the phone to Finn. Finn explains the note and the history behind the threats. I quit listening when Kid comes out of whatever room she was in, clean and wearing scrubs. She doesn’t have on shoes either, just socks with grips on the bottom. She looks like a little kid. Cute as hell.

  “She’s walkin’ up now. You wanna talk to her?” Finn asks Cooper, then hands my phone to Kid.

  “Hello?” she asks.

  “I’m good Nicky. Not a scrape on me,” she huffs.

  “Took out their tires. They crashed. Guy in the passenger seat had his gun still in his hand and was runnin’ at us. Took out a knee. Went after the other guy, he stopped when I threatened to shoot him too. Thomas had to knock the driver out to bring him back,” she’s so calm when she explains it. Kid doesn’t panic. I can see her even, steady breathing. She’s a freak of nature.

  “Uh huh…Yeah…Don’t know…That would help…Okay,” she answers and responds to whatever Cooper is saying. “Love you too, Nicky. See you tomorrow.” She hangs up and hands the phone back to me. We all look at her waiting for some information.

  “Nicky thinks he can contain this threat easily. He’s comin’ here tomorrow to work on that. And no, he didn’t explain shit. Never does,” she scoffs throwing her head back against the wall. O’Sullivan reaches an arm around her neck pulling her close to him. I’d like to do the same, but she can only be held by one of us at a time. I grab her hand and interlace our fingers while Finn and Cal stretch their legs to rest against hers. Touching her brings us comfort. Always has. Always will.

  Kellerman

  I can feel something’s wrong. I know the baby is fine because Cassie is asleep on the couch and I can see the kicks now. Baby’s fine, must be Kid. I quietly move from the living room into the kitchen. I can see Cassie from here in case she wakes up.