Into the Blackness (Blackness Series Book 4) (14 page)

Read Into the Blackness (Blackness Series Book 4) Online

Authors: Norma Jeanne Karlsson

Tags: #Romance, #romantic thriller, #contemporary romance, #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Into the Blackness (Blackness Series Book 4)
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“Thanks for comin’ by, Trish,” Nick responds for us. “Kat’ll call you this week once we’ve recovered from all this.”

“Please do,” she replies in her
Stepford
façade.

“I will. Have a lovely day, Trish,” I beam cheerfully at her.

“You too,” she says with a wave as she turns and makes her way back down our driveway.

Nick burrows his head in my neck and aggressively works his stubble across the sensitive skin causing me to yelp and giggle. Trish stops and turns back to see the commotion. I offer her a magnificent smile and a wave as Nick drags me backward, continuing his assault before closing the door.

“You two are kinda gross first thing in the morning,” Dane grumbles as he thuds down the stairs, the other boys nodding in agreement behind him.

“So are you,” Nick snarks, receiving chuckles in return.

“Jake’s still out,” Sawyer informs us.

“We’ll let him sleep a while. He didn’t get much after the nightmare,” I explain sweetly, sweeping an arm around his waist and leading the group to the kitchen.

“Does he get those a lot?” Cole asks sliding onto his—all the boys have their spots—stool at the breakfast bar.

“Not a lot. Yesterday was hard for him. I’m sure that’s all it was,” I say knowing there’s probably more truth to that statement than lie.

I set about making omelets while Nick gets the coffee going.

“Aunt Kay?” Dane asks pulling me from my chopping of peppers.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will you let us stay here even when are parents are back?” he asks quietly.

“Of course you can stay here. Why would you even ask?” I’m surprised at his question, frankly.

“I just figured you’d be sick of the charity case by then. And since we wouldn’t
technically
be alone anymore you’d be done,” he finishes with a shrug, the other two nodding in agreement.

I slam my knife down and round the island, stopping at the counter in front of the boys, who now look nervous due to my apparent displeasure with their thoughts.

“That’s a fucked up thing to say to me, Dane Ashcroft. What’s worse is that you actually believe what you just said. Let me tell you boys somethin’. You may come from people that have used you, thrown you away like trash and expected you to grow up way too soon, but that’s not okay. And it sure as shit isn’t how I would
ever
treat you. You are not a charity case! I care about you all and I want to keep you happy and safe because of that. Not some fucked up selfish reason you three seem to have created. You’re in our home because the thought of you anywhere else at the end of the day makes me sick to my stomach with worry and concern. Do you understand me?” I finish harshly.

I’m pissed. I’m pissed the fuck off and shaking because of it. I’m not mad at the boys, it’s their parents that are the current sore spot for me. These are good kids. They’re sweet, polite, thoughtful, smart boys that most parents would die to have as their children instead of rude, mouthy teenagers that occupy most homes. If their shit-for-brains parents don’t get that, it’s their loss and my gain.

“Yes,” they reply in unison.

“Good.”

I return to my chopping, albeit a bit more aggressively than I was previously going at it. I’m twenty-eight and have fallen in love with four teenage boys like they’re my own flesh and blood. It’s bizarre and I can’t explain how it happened or why, but it did. DCA protocols be damned. If I could figure out a way to adopt all of them, Jake included, I would. I’d take them out of
Stepford
and give them everything I could to ensure they get a few good years of love in them before the real world ruins shit.

“You’ll be a good mom, Aunt Kay,” Sawyer says tenderly, bringing me out of my murderous veggie assault.

“She already is,” Jake calls from the entryway of the kitchen.

I offer him a demure smile as he approaches me with purpose. Jake wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in my neck as my arms go around his shoulders.

“I love you, Kat,” he whispers into my skin and I feel tears prick my eyes. I refuse to cry, even happy tears.

“I love you too, Jake,” I whisper back and he squeezes me harder, holding me for a long while before letting me go.

Jake pads over to Nick, who’s been silent since Dane leveled his blow, just watching us from his perch against the counter. Jake stops a breath from Nick and they simply stare at each other for a moment before Nick sweeps a hand behind Jake’s head and crushes it to his shoulder. Inaudible words are exchanged along with some manly back pats before Jake pulls away and joins his boys at the breakfast bar.

The four of them settle into their normal banter and I get back to breakfast. I never look at Nick during this time. I know he gets that was a huge moment for all of us. Not just with Jake, but the boys too. I don’t need eye contact to share that with him. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to share it with him because this op is becoming more reality and less of an op as each day passes. That’s dangerous where emotions are concerned. I’m not losing my focus on the op; just falling in love with four teenage boys I’ll have to leave. Fuck if that doesn’t hurt like a bitch right now and it’s only been six weeks. If we’re at this a year or more it’ll be the death of me. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes that I can’t hold back any longer.

I keep my head down and my back to the room facing the stove as I prepare omelets. The tears stream down my cheeks, but I keep the sobs buried in my chest. This is bad. I’m not one of those women that can shed tears, look gorgeous doing it and refreshed afterward. No, I’m the woman who has blotchy skin, a runny nose, red-rimmed eyes and look sickly when I’m done.

I load five plates for the men in my life, lining them up on the counter next to the stove. Then I turn tail and run up the stairs to our room to get my face presentable before they can tell what a blubbering mess I’ve become. A shower is necessary to begin accomplishing this task.

I turn on every jet, including the rain shower and let the hot water soothe my aching muscles in tandem with my aching heart. I don’t regret taking the boys in or creating a bond with Jake. I feel something good for the first time in years that doesn’t involve killing a mark. No, there are no regrets in loving four teenagers. I’ll spend the time I have with them offering those boys everything my parents gave me. Love, support, concern and above all I’ll give them all the happiness in the world that I can wring out of the op.

Once I have my shit together and my emotions back in check I climb out of the shower and inspect my face in the mirror. A little blotchy and red-rimmed, but overall it’s not too bad. I’ll take my time getting ready and doing my hair. By then I should look as
Stepford
as Trish.

“You need to come out here and talk to me or I’m comin’ in,” Nick demands roughly at the bathroom door.

“I’m fine, just needed a shower,” I lie in a sweet tone.

There’s no response. That was easier than I anticipated. I move into the dressing room and peruse my outfits hoping to find something comfortable to go with my horridly expensive leggings, which have become my go-to when in the house. Digging through the drawers, I find a plush plum three-quarter sleeved turtleneck sweater. This will do the trick. I slip into a tiny black thong and lacy matching bra before heading back into the bathroom while securing my navy silk robe.

Nick is leaning against his vanity with his massive arms across his chest and a scowl on his face. I walk past him and begin lotioning my face, avoiding his icy glare in my mirror.

“It’s not gonna work,” Nick informs me in a low tone.

“What’s that?” I ask innocently.

“You can’t hide from me or the boys. They’re easier to hide from than I am, but you sure as shit can’t hide from me so knock it off,” he demands.

“I’m in our home, in our bathroom. Not a great hiding spot, Nicky,” I huff.

“No shit. Next time you should leave the house if you wanna run away from us.”

“I came to take a shower.”

“You ran outta the kitchen like your fuckin’ hair was on fire.”

“I needed a shower.”

“Kat.”

“Nick.”

We stare at each other in the mirror for a long moment before I break eye contact and take my wet hair out of my towel. I set about combing and running product through it, all the while feeling Nick’s deep brown eyes boring into the back of my skull.

“I’m not dressed. Maybe you could give me some privacy,” I suggest without meeting his irritated gaze.

“No,” he growls.

“That’s not very considerate,” I say with warning in my tone.

“You runnin’ outta the kitchen wasn’t either,” he retorts pointedly.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I grind out harshly, turning to face him.

“You to quit fuckin’ hidin’ from me,” he barks loudly.

This argument began between Kat and Nick Johnson. Kat Russell is pissed and coming out to fight now.

“Why do you give a shit? I’m here doin’ what I’m supposed to. Lettin’ you run shit and takin’ care of the boys. I’ve worked my way in with Trish enough that she showed up first thing this morning. I fail to see where I’m doin’ anything wrong.”

“You’re my wife,” he says like that’s an answer.

“No, I’m not. I’m your team member and you should remember that in moments like this. You run the op, you run your wife and nephew, you run yourself and the boys most of the time. You don’t run me.”

That breaks the standoff because Nick stalks to inches from me, glowering as he leans into my face.

“You. Are. My. Wife,” he growls low and menacing. “Every minute of every fuckin’ day you’re my wife. That doesn’t stop because you have a moment. That doesn’t stop because you get scared. That doesn’t stop because you say it does. That doesn’t stop because you wanna break from it to pull that goddamned mask back over your face and run into the blackness that’s been your home for the last decade. You’re my wife.”

“Get outta my face with your shit, Nick. I’m not you’re fuckin’ wife and I never will be. Go growl at some other girl, I’ve had enough of your alpha male routine,” I seethe.

He pins me with a fierce stare before smashing his lips to mine. I move to push him off me, but he traps my hands beneath his, pressing them into his naked rock hard chest. He works his mouth across mine and I feel my resolve fading, passion building. His tongue slides out, tracing my lips, requesting entry. Goddamn him! I was really doing a good job of being pissed and not letting him get his way.

I part my lips and a small moan crackles from my chest as Nick buries his hands in my damp hair, slanting his head to get better access at my mouth. We tangle our tongues together, drinking from each other. His mouth is warm and minty with a male muskiness that’s just him topping it off. I run my hands up his bare chest, over his sculpted shoulders and around his neck.

I start to work my nails over his scalp and arch my back, pressing my hard peeked nipples against him. A deep satisfied groan bubbles up his throat and I breathe it in before sucking his plump bottom lip into my mouth then tugging it between my teeth.

Nick takes over after that, nipping and licking at my mouth. Holding my head where he wants it to get the access he requires as his tongue plunders my mouth with fervor.

Then he’s gone. My eyes pop open to see Nick shaking his head and running his hand roughly over his hair. The look on his face is defeated, frustrated and worst of all…disgusted.

“Fuck!” he roars tipping his head up to the ceiling.

I close my eyes and take a calming breath. Game face on Kat.

Nick

I’ve lost my goddamned mind! I just attacked Kat like a horny teenager. I’m spending too much time with the boys.

I’m still staring at the ceiling after roaring like an animal. When I lower my chin and make eye contact with usually fiery hazel eyes, I find them blank. This moves me from frustrated at myself to pissed off at her, again.

“Feel better?” she asks calmly.

“No,” I growl.

She shrugs and turns away from me, switching on her blow dryer. Kat goes about drying her hair and ignoring my presence like she was when I first came in here. This woman drives me insane. She’s so soft and sweet with the boys and with me most of the time. I know it’s genuine when she does it too, her mask is nowhere in sight.

Then there are moments like this where she runs. She’s hiding from all of us and I don’t get it. We’re here for her like she’s here for us, but she won’t take it. It infuriates me.

Then she runs that mouth and it’s so fucking sexy when she does, I lose my shit. I lose my shit and ram my tongue down her throat to shut her up. Not just to shut her up, but that was my initial goal until she purred and pressed her soft tits against me. Then shit got real and it felt perfect. She felt perfect. The weight of her in my arms, the taste of her in my mouth and the sounds echoing from her that I caused snapped me back into reality.

I’m not certain what that reality is anymore. Kat’s gotten under my skin. The glow that beams from her has penetrated my hard shell and filed down those rough edges I’ve spent a lifetime sharpening. That’s what I should tell her. I should tell Kat that I’m feeling for the first time in my adult life and it freaks me the fuck out. I know it freaks her out too. That’s why she bailed on the boys and me.

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