The Silent Sounds of Chaos

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The Silent Sounds of Chaos Page 14

by Kristina Circelli


  Perplexed, Finn sat on the edge of the bed, half tempted to grab the bottle and down it in three long swallows. He resisted only because he refused to be like his mother and solve all of life’s problems with a drink.

  “I didn’t take anything,” he managed to say around his bewilderment. “I … Maybe I’m getting sick.”

  “You were mumbling something in your sleep. Iron Creek Estates.” Joe waited a beat, then added, “Something you want to tell me?”

  Instead of answering, Finn pulled out his phone. “Iron Creek Estates,” he repeated to himself beneath his breath. The few words Snow was able to utter spoke volumes. While he didn’t know who all was involved or what house she was in, it didn’t matter, because he knew where she was.

  Typing in the neighborhood name, Finn frantically searched for the setting, checking all of Georgia, foot tapping impatiently. When the map finally zeroed in on the location, he frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Well that makes two of us.”

  Finn shot an irritated glance over at Joe before returning his attention to his phone, convinced he was doing something wrong. But, no, every search engine he checked told him there was no Iron Creek Estates in Georgia.

  He knew he’d heard her correctly. Snow’s voice was distinctive, always clear and present in his mind. And, thanks to his strengthening connection with her, he also knew her abductor, whoever he was, had some kind of issue with her father. Probably money, he figured, but another quick online search would hopefully reveal more about her family, and maybe what they had to do with the location where Snow was being held. Surely by this point the cops—and therefore the news stations—knew something, if Snow’s father had been brought into negotiations.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jumping to his feet, Finn scanned an article, then another, scrolling through black words on a white screen until they all blurred together.

  Nothing. There was nothing on a ransom, on any demands being made to Snow’s family. Only an update on her kidnapping informing the public the search was still on, a call for help in finding the men responsible, and a picture to remind anyone watching who to look for.

  “That mother fucker didn’t tell the cops.”

  “Who didn’t tell the cops what?” At Joe’s wary question, Finn spun around and all but launched the phone at him. Joe caught the phone and spent a minute scrolling. “What is this? There’s nothin’ there.”

  “Exactly.” Feeling vindicated, Finn began to pace. “There’s nothing there about Snow’s parents, which means whoever this asshole is who took her, he’s talking to them on the side and cops haven’t been brought in. And all this time she thought her family was good.”

  “Snow?” Joe repeated after a moment’s hesitation. “Your girl’s name is Snow?”

  Finn paused mid-step, only now realizing her name had slipped out. Too late to take it back, he figured, and pushed on. “It’s a nickname because she likes princesses. And that’s not the point. The point is that her father clearly is trying to handle this on his own. Maybe it’s a deal gone bad or he pissed off the wrong person, I don’t know. I don’t know what he does that would have him involved with these people. But I do know that if I don’t get to her soon, this guy might take it a step further. I have to get to her, now.”

  Joe watched as the younger man grabbed a pen and pad of paper on the nightstand next to the bed and started drawing a rough sketch of what looked like the inside of a house. Finn was so wrapped up in his drawing he didn’t notice Joe pull out his cell phone, subtly press a button, then another, keeping his arm down at his side as he said, “So, you have to get to her … at Iron Creek Estates.”

  “Right.”

  “Because even though the cops and the news have no idea where she is, you do.”

  Finn looked up from his drawing, hearing the suspicion in Joe’s voice. “Right,” he said again, slowly this time.

  “How do you know she’s there? How do you know this guy wants something from her father? You didn’t know anything yesterday, and all of a sudden you now have an exact location. You ain’t left my side since we left and you been out cold for hours. But now you know where this girl is.”

  Joe stood and crossed his arms. “I don’t buy it. There’s somethin’ you’re not telling me. Especially since you said she was in Atlanta, and now you’re sayin’ she’s in Iron Creek Estates. There ain’t a neighborhood like that anywhere in near Atlanta. I checked. You’re up to somethin’.”

  “Atlanta was before I knew exactly where she was,” Finn shot back, seeing the debate quickly sliding from his control. “I needed a place to start. Plan’s changed.”

  “Oh, no,” Joe drawled, fingers tapping against his biceps, “I think this was your plan all along. Just took me a little long to catch on is all.”

  They engaged in a standoff, one knowing there was more to the truth than being told, the other refusing to reveal anything further. Finn’s mind raced with ways to overtake the older, stronger, much more brutal man, each idea coming up short.

  He couldn’t tell Joe how he knew where Snow was, just as he couldn’t quite figure out what “plan” Joe thought he had secretly cooked up. There was just one purpose to this trip—avenge Snow. And if he wanted to do just that, he’d have to ditch Charlie’s chosen henchman.

  The only problem was, Joe was standing between him and the door. There was no way out of this room.

  But he refused to show fear or any sort of trepidation. Straightening his shoulders, Finn took a step forward and kept his glare even. “Get out of my way, Joe.”

  “Not until you tell me what exactly your game is here.” Joe’s stance shifted threateningly—feet braced, shoulders set, chin held high. “All that mutterin’ in your sleep, sayin’ things you shouldn’t be sayin’ if you wanted to keep things secret. You blew it at Iron Creek Estates. You and me both know that only means one thing. You better start talking right fucking now.”

  “And if I don’t?” Finn crossed his arms as well, then lifted a brow when there was a sharp knock at the door. “Saved by the bell,” he said sarcastically, but Joe didn’t seem fazed.

  “You sure about that, kid?”

  Finn watched Joe walk backward to the door, keeping a wary eye on him as he let their guest in. As soon as he saw who was on the other side of the door, Finn’s heart thumped painfully in his chest, his stomach clutching and bile burning in his throat. He didn’t, couldn’t, speak as the man entered, his lanky frame filling the doorway, a black shadow against the brilliant afternoon sun.

  The visitor stepped inside, letting the light reveal the sharp angles of his thin face, the dark hue of greasy, slicked-back brown hair, the jaunt of bony shoulders padded by an oversized beige windbreaker. Through round glasses peered predatory eyes, zeroing in on the young man next to the bed who instantly remembered his name.

  But Finn wouldn’t let his expression, his stance, show how much his body was trembling on the inside.

  “You remember ‘ole DU, don’t ya, kid?”

  Childhood memories flooded through Finn, too many years remembering what had been done to him, what others had let happen. His breath caught in his chest at the visions swimming behind his eyes. Yes, he remembered ‘ole DU, the man who rarely went by his given name of Duane and preferred the nickname. Finn shuddered internally, knowing what those letters stood for.

  Still, he made damn sure his voice was smooth when he replied, “Sure. One of Ma’s dickhead meal tickets.”

  He’d expected his opponent to snap back, launch into a fight. That would have been welcome. Something he could easily handle. Finn wasn’t prepared for the slow smirk that crossed DU’s face, nor could he look away from those long, callused hands as they slid down to grip his belt buckle, fingers tapping on the jeans just below. A suggestion, a warning—a promise that threatened to suck the courage out of Finn even as he fought to maintain his façade.

  How humiliating it was to know that after all these years, he was just the
scared little boy trapped in his room, another one of his mother’s dealers pissed off she didn’t have the cash and taking payment however he saw fit.

  Payment. It hit him then, something Snow had whispered to him before she faded away followed by her abductor’s claim.

  Debts have to be paid.

  His eyes moved from DU’s hands to Joe’s knowing glower. “I didn’t pass out,” he whispered, trying to piece things together but only getting as far as that one fact. “You did something to me … How … Why?”

  DU took a step forward, enough to close the door, as Joe replied, “You really do have balls of steel, kid. You had me going for a while there, actin’ like you were playing hero to some long-lost friend. I knew somethin’ was up, knew it for sure when you let it slip who your little suspects were.”

  Finn’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall what was said. When Joe shifted, his eyes were drawn to the pictures inked on his arms. And then he remembered telling Joe who took Snow—a man with tattoos and another with dark, slicked-back hair.

  “Where is she?” An animalistic rage drew Finn closer. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Joe leveled a steely glare at him. “I should be askin’ you that same question.”

  It quickly became obvious he would get no answers out of Joe, so Finn answered them on his own. “Looks like Charlie’s reach goes farther than I thought it did. How many people are in debt to him? To you? Why did you bring her into this?”

  Joe’s eyes narrowed as he considered the question. He glanced over at DU, whose unwavering stare never left the boy in front of them, before replying on a shrug, “You said it yourself. Debts had to be paid.”

  Pure, unadulterated fury consumed Finn. He lunged at Joe, who blocked the attempt with the mere wave of his muscle arm, sending Finn tumbling into the chair. Spinning around, he readied to attack again. “Where is she!”

  “Oh, boy, you already know the answer to that.”

  DU’s voice slicked over Finn’s flesh, a sticky coating of shame that weighed him down. He’d heard that voice too many times, tried hard to forget it after so many nights praying deep down the man would stay gone after skipping town more than a decade ago.

  But he wasn’t that little boy anymore, Finn told himself, He was twenty goddamn years old, with a reputation to match his place in Charlie’s organization. Cops knew better than to fuck with him. Junkies knew better than to cheat him. It was time DU suffered the consequences of crossing him.

  The plan formulating in his head went no further than thought. Joe took advantage of his silence and landed a punch to his jaw, knocking Finn back on the bed and stunning him into complacency. “You’re more clever than I thought, kid,” he spat out, reaching down and grabbing a bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “At first I thought it was about the chick. Some piece of ass you wanted to get a hold of, puttin’ on some scheme to be her knight in shining armor. Didn’t make sense that you’d even tell Charlie about it. But now I know why you told him and why you threw out that little babysitter idea. You knew Charlie would send me with you. He’d never let his precious prodigy go off on his own.”

  Despite’s Joe’s conviction at his own words, Finn shook his head, one hand rubbing his aching jaw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to find—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Your little girlfriend. It was a good scheme. But I know what’s going on up here.” Joe lifted a finger and tapped his temple. “The best laid plans go to shit when you tell everyone what you’re doing, smartass. I knew I had to knock you out when you confessed who you were really lookin’ for, get the truth out of you when you woke up on my terms. Then you made it even easier on me. You should learn to keep your mouth shut when you’re sleeping. Then people won’t know when you’re plottin’ behind their backs.”

  When Finn made to move off the bed, Joe lashed out, his foot connecting with ribs. Finn grunted and fell back. “You shoulda let the past be the past. Would have made my day so much easier.”

  Refusing to back down, Finn pushed up from the mattress, only to have a gun pressed to the center of his forehead. “Be a good boy and stay there,” Joe ordered, his hand steady as it gripped the weapon. “Now, I’ve got places to be. Loose ends to tie up now that it turns out you ain’t as slick as you think you are. ‘Ole DU here is gonna take good care of you.”

  With a knowing grin, Joe stomped out of the room, the door slamming behind him. The sound echoed between the remaining men. Finn’s heart pounded sorely as he searched his sides, desperate for a way out, but he couldn’t think straight. It was too quiet in his head, the silence scattering his thoughts, save for one.

  This would be his end. In this filthy hotel room, looking up at the man he never wanted to see again.

  “Just you and me now,” DU sneered, cracking his knuckles. “Just like old times.”

  THE MOTEL ROOM was too small, walls seeming to close in and force the two men together. Finn thought DU would waste no time either killing him or attempting to reenact his favorite filthy pastime. He was surprised when the man simply pulled up a chair and set it in front of the door, then lowered himself into it.

  “Sit.” The single word was an order, not a suggestion. Finn found his body doing as he was told and hating himself for it. “Good boy.”

  “Fuck off,” Finn growled in response. He wasn’t a kid anymore. Nights of silent protests were over.

  DU smiled and stretched, palms sliding down the chair arms. “It’s been many, many years, hasn’t it? I’m sad you never tried to find me.”

  “Cut the shit. You didn’t want to be found.”

  “Oh? What makes you so sure?”

  Finn thought back to the days in his mother’s house, all the hushed conversations he overheard. “Talk around town was you skipped out to Georgia. No one knew where. Or if they did, they weren’t talking.”

  “Smart people,” DU mused, shifting in the chair so his legs were spread wider. “Yet here we are now. One might guess you wanted to find me.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed. “One might think too highly of himself.”

  Another leery grin. Another raised brow as shifty eyes roved over Finn. “I do enjoy our … oral foreplay.” He winked, the motion curdling in Finn’s gut. “I must say, time has been good to you.”

  “Can’t say the same about you.”

  The smile only widened. “Come now, don’t be like that. We had such good times together.”

  A claw clutched at Finn’s insides, gripping him in disgust and humiliation. Why, after all this time, did the man still have such power over him? He didn’t understand his own weaknesses. And he sure as hell wasn’t willing to talk about them.

  As much to defy DU as to piss him off, Finn leapt up from the bed. “I plan on having a real good time tonight, ripping your throat from your body.”

  The threat brought DU to his feet. He wasn’t a large man, but his every move exuded a self-assurance that would send most men to their knees. Finn wasn’t most men. He stood his ground, letting DU stalk closer, watching him carefully.

  DU stopped an arm’s length away. “Such big talk,” he said in his low, raspy tone, “for a little boy who cries himself to sleep.”

  “It’s not gonna work,” Finn snapped back, refusing to let his mind take him to that place. “You’re right. Time has been good to me. I ain’t that kid anymore. You left town, scared of Charlie I always figured, and you missed a whole hell of a lot.”

  “Did I?” DU’s head cocked to the side almost playfully, but the frown tightening his mouth spoke of his growing anger. “I certainly don’t recall missing your precious little girl.”

  That was all Finn needed before he launched into attack. Yes, time had favored him, wrapping his arms in solid muscle and giving him the strength he needed to finally be the one knocking someone to the ground. DU dropped when Finn’s fist connected with his jaw, but he was already countering, his shoulder ramming into Finn’s gut and sending them both to the floor.


  Grappling for control, Finn grunted as he was struck somewhere in the face, his head slamming against the floor. DU’s face hovered over him, a contorted mask of rage lined with the love of the fight, the expression tightening when the younger man got a hand around his throat.

  “What did you do to her?” Finn asked around a mouthful of blood. He was tempted to spit it in DU’s face, but the haunted child inside him feared the consequence of such an action.

  DU grinned despite the hand around his throat, thin lips pulling back to reveal yellow teeth. “Oh, boy, you already know the answer to that.”

  Finn’s hand slipped, sending his childhood nightmare down on top of him. The weight was too familiar. Sickeningly familiar.

  You should teach your momma how to pay her debts. The man’s voice from fifteen years past flooded Finn’s mind. Otherwise good boys with bad mommas have to pay for them.

  How many times had he heard those words? Had there ever been a time when he didn’t know what they meant, what it meant would soon happen to him? How loud had he screamed for his mother to make it stop, until he simply stopped crying at all?

  He’d been scared as a child. But as Finn glared up at DU now, recognizing the set of the man’s jaw, the glint in his watery eyes, the way his hand tapped on his belt buckle, he felt nothing but fury. Not for him. Not for the little boy he once was, the man he never got to become. But for Snow. However she was involved, whatever her father did to owe his debt, however fate intervened to make sure they heard one another’s thoughts … his fury had all been leading up to this moment.

  “You are done,” Finn snarled, finding a strength within himself he never knew he had. Two hands shoved against DU’s chest and he rose out from beneath him. “You are done taking payment. Now you owe me.”

  DU laughed, loud and wild and with complete abandon, a laugh accompanied by a storm of fists. Each one found their mark until Finn finally lost his balance and fell, landing hard on his knees, the jolt sending shards of pain through his back. But he didn’t have time to react. His body was thrust forward against the bed as DU hit him from behind, wrenching an arm behind his back.

 

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