by Ron C. Nieto
Contents
License Notes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Author's Note
Other titles
SHATTERED SILENCE
by Ron C. Nieto
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2013 Ron C. Nieto
Edited by The Eyes for Editing
Cover art by Create Imaginations
License Notes.
This book is a work of fiction. Though some actual cities, towns or locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarities of characters or names used in this book to any person past, present or future is coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This one is for everyone who supported me.
Thanks, folks. I would not be here without you.
Chapter 1
The alarm in my cell went off and I killed the note I had been playing, silencing its agony with the flat of my right palm. The insistent beeping of the device had abruptly destroyed the ambiance and I was left to stare at its screen, almost as if I could intimidate it into forgetting what day it was, what time it was.
It was made of stern stuff—it kept droning on and on in spite of my glare.
I threw a longing look at the papers spread around the bed, currently hidden under the sprawling figure of Sparrow. After thirty-three pages worth of lines, dots, scribbles and countless scratching over, the transcription was almost complete. They were notes and rhythms I wasn't supposed to play ever again, a melody I hated with all my soul, and but still I felt compelled to write it down. The reality of stark lines against familiar music sheets helped to make sense of what had happened, to tame the music.
Meow.
My head jerked and I narrowed my eyes at the cat lying beside me. He was giving me a patronizing, indolent look that said whatever my excuses he didn't buy them.
“Shut it,” I told him, tugging the papers free from under his twelve-pound, furry ass. “It does help. And I'm not stalling.”
Perhaps I was, though. Go figure, I preferred to face the ghosts from my recent past (pun absolutely intended) instead of facing the living. Figuring out the song that nearly killed me not two months ago gave me a measure of control and everything I had scheduled in the evening would wrench it away from me.
“You might have a point,” I conceded after a few more moments of unabashed stalling.
Sparrow didn't say anything, but purred like a jet engine while I maneuvered the guitar to rest in its stand and tried to straighten my clothes. He approved of my sincerity bout.
The day was well on its way to darkness, and the window, turned impromptu mirror, caught my reflection while I fussed with my appearance. I snorted a laugh although I wasn't particularly happy about the stark reality it showed me.
No amount of preening would render the image in that glass acceptable for the right people.
With a sigh, I gave up. Picking up my cell, wallet and jacket, I threw one last glance at my safe haven before heading out to the lion's den.
Ten minutes later, I rang the bell to a home I didn't belong at. The brisk walk had dulled the sense of doom and left me with nothing but a detached feeling of inadequacy, which was more manageable.
Behind the door, I heard careening footsteps and then Alice was wrenching it open with a grin that forced me to drag out a smile of my own.
“Thanks for coming, Keith,” she said, leaning in for a quick hug. Her breath tickling the shell of my ear, she took the chance to whisper, “You'll do fine.”
I nodded, more to assuage her than out of any real conviction, and she stepped aside to let me in, reaching out to take my jacket. She tried very hard not to stare, but I caught the tilt of her head that meant she was evaluating, judging and, just like me, hoping for the best. She just smiled wider when she caught my knowing glance and gestured for me to go on inside.
Her house had a proper foyer, more noise than I'd ever heard coming from the kitchen, and a large dining room. Her father waited in front of a glass-and-marble table set for four and he looked like the place owned him instead of the other way around.
It's an uncomfortable evening all around.
“Sir,” I said, offering my hand with what I hoped was a polite smile. “Thank you for inviting me over tonight.”
“Please, call me Andrew.”
We shook and he darted a glance down. His eyes fairly bulged when he saw the black nail polish, but his expression held a frozen welcome. He was trying, that much was true, but things could've gotten uncomfortable quite fast if Alice's mother hadn't stepped in.
“Keith! You're right on time. Andrew, dear, why don't you fetch the drinks?”
Her husband snapped out of his horrified trance and moved to a cabinet, a mahogany piece polished to shining brilliance that wanted to speak of class and old money and mostly got the riches message across.
“Mrs. Thorne,” I said by way of greeting, “I was just thanking your husband for dinner. Is there anything I can help you with?”
She waved a hand impatiently. “Just Lara. You're going to make me feel old otherwise. And thanks, but what kind of host would I be if I made you work on your first visit?” She smiled and it seemed to be genuine. There was much of Alice in her features, too, which made me like her instantly. “Besides, you need to rest for the party tonight. Just sit down over there. We'll be right along.”
I hid a wince as best I could while I sat on the chair she had pointed out. I didn't want to go to that party and the reminder wasn't appreciated. Everyone kept chalking up my unease to this dinner, as formal an introduction to her family as I'd ever get, but I was far more worried about mingling with my supposed peers afterward. Still, it all was equally important for Alice so...
Andrew sat by my side with a small cough.
“I hope coke is okay with you. Underage and everything, we don't have that much choosing range.”
“Of course, sir—Andrew, I mean. It's fine.”
He poured without peeling his gaze from me, not bothering to look at the glasses. It started to make me feel like a rare specimen in a zoo and I almost regretted not listening when my dad told me to get out of my worn jeans and put on some finery for tonight.
I'd have fit better in the house. But I wouldn't have been me. Which part is more important?
Lara entered the room with Alice in tow and the smell of roast beef—the infamous Thorne secret recipe, I was told—put an end to my musings.
Conversation went on fairly well for the first part of the event, mostly talking about the theater performance that threw me right into their daughter's life, Christmas holidays, amusing but irrelevant tales about big, happy reunions... After
all, when there's food and drink, people always relax. But then it was dessert time and the shoe dropped on me.
“So,” Andrew said, “this is your last year in school. What plans do you have from now on?”
“Dad!” Alice looked startled and slightly mortified.
Her reaction told me this topic had been marked off-limits before I arrived, but like any good father would, Andrew chose to overlook the boundaries.
I shrugged, trying to let them know the interrogation was fine by me. I had expected it.
“College. Then work. The usual,” I said.
That surprised everyone in the table—my girlfriend included.
“Really? You've applied for college?”
“Yeah. Local one, though. Nothing fancy.”
“I didn't know.” Alice pouted and stabbed a piece of pineapple from her plate. “You hadn't told me that.”
“The applications went out during summer.” This was way before she had started to acknowledge my existence.
“And what will you study?” Her dad brought the conversation back on track.
“Accounting.”
Some cutlery dropped on a plate with a clang. I think it was Alice's, but I didn't look away from Andrew's eyes to check. His brows had escalated his forehead and were trying to escape through his hairline.
“Accounting? Really?” His tone made it clear he wouldn't trust me with the finances necessary to fetch a milk carton from the corner store, which piqued me.
“Sure,” I said, putting on a small smile even if I cringed inwardly at my own choice of words. “Music and math use the same part of the brain, and I'm sure there's more than one person who needs a lot of... creativity to explain the money away.”
I didn't plan to work on laundering money, not really. However, I can't help getting sarcastic as a default defense mechanism—quips and darts are thrown and parried on reflex, and I haven't figured out yet how to apply any sort of filter to them. It seems this reaction isn't a socially acceptable outlet.
Andrew sputtered and choked on his own breath, turning an interesting shade of crimson. I don't know what he might have said next because Alice spoke over him.
“That's just a joke, right?”
“The laundering part is.”
“I thought you'd become a musician,” Lara broke in.
I allowed myself to dream for a moment. The stage, the music, touching people in ways nothing but music could. Spending the rest of my life doing the one thing I loved and sharing with the world. Success was a factor only in that it would let me reach more people, fame just a byproduct without weight.
But it was just that: a dream.
“You can't make a living with that,” I told her.
She frowned. “What do you mean? With your talent, I'm sure you would go far.”
“Thanks, but... That's not how it works, right? If I want to sell, I don't have to be good. I have to be what the most people want to hear. Somehow, I doubt that's a power metal reinterpretation of Debussy.”
I could've sworn her face fell a little, but I didn't want to dwell on a conversation of chances lost. Instead, I focused on eating the last of my dessert, subtly discouraging further conversation until Alice could pull me out of the chair and toward the real challenge.
“It's been a wonderful dinner. Thanks again for the invitation. Lara, you're a great cook,” I said while Alice tugged my arm, already on her way.
“It's been a pleasure to have you! I hope you'll come some other day,” she called to our retreating backs.
Lara was trying. I had to give her that. Still, before we reached the front door, I heard Andrew muttering about “hair dyed like a girl's” and “plucked eyebrows” and I had to suppress a smirk. Thankfully, the night air blasted the words away before they could get much worse.
“That was... intense,” said Alice, wrapping her fingers around mine. “But it went well, don't you think?”
No.
“I guess.”
We walked the driveway and then the few paces to the lone lamp post standing in the curb. A car signaled with its headlights from the darkness and Alice waved wildly, all previous intensity and awkwardness forgotten.
“I can't believe you're turning her into a punctual girl, Dave!” she said after climbing in the backseat.
Anna twisted from the front seat and stuck her tongue out at her while Dave laughed.
“I'm not,” he said. “I just told her to meet half an hour beforehand... so we made it in time.”
“Idiots,” Anna huffed and I had to smile.
For a small reprieve, it felt like any other night.
Chapter 2
We arrived at the party in under fifteen minutes. The music, heavy techno, could be felt from the previous block and the residential street was lined with cars haphazardly parked. People were parked all over the front lawn, too. It must have started early, or the whole “get to know my family” thing had lasted longer than expected, because things were in full swing. Someone had even broken out the beer, which was nothing but bad news on top of more bad news.
Crowds are never easy to handle. Drunken crowds are a pain.
Still, I tried to wear a comfortable mask, for Alice's sake if nothing else. She loved this: the dancing, the swirling of color and bodies and the easy laughing. It rang fake to my ears, but it might be because I'm not the most social person in town.
“Ready to let out the stress?” she asked when we mounted the steps to the front door, navigating our way through some kids I didn't even recall from school.
“Ready to cross that door,” I said. It wasn't an answer, but she didn't mind.
“Let's dance then.”
She must've known the house from some previous party I hadn't been privy to. Plunging into the masses, Alice cut our path to the sitting room, which was acting as dance floor. The music blared, well into festival-volume levels, and the expensive sound system had a subwoofer that reverberated all the way to my gut. After the few seconds it took us to reach the center of the improvised stage, we'd lost all sight of both Dave and Anna and my heart had started to beat in time with the thunderous bass rhythm. It was numbing, primal, and easy to sway to.
As Alice turned to face me, her body moving with grace and practiced ease, I realized that we had never danced together. I smiled, trying to ignore the elbows that would randomly poke me and the bodies that would shove me from time to time. I would've picked a different tune for our first time, but it would have to do.
“You're so full of surprises tonight!” she screamed in my ear after a long while. “First, your career choice and now this! I didn't know you could dance so well.”
I grinned and took advantage of her leaning in to rest my hand against her hip. “Neither did I,” I mouthed back, my voice swallowed by the noise way before it could reach her.
She rolled her eyes, but her arms wrapped around my neck and we kept dancing.
It wasn't the kind of music to dance to tightly embraced, but somehow we made it work and she made it look easy.
That was one of the things I loved about her. We worked. She made me work, and it was effortless.
“Hey!” I heard her muffled warning, saw her reach out behind me, but I didn't react in time.
The yank on my ponytail made me wince and completely miss the next steps, which in turn sent a lot of people bumping into the space I should, by all rights, have vacated.
“What the...?”
“Come get a drink!” Anna said without a hint of remorse when I turned around. “You've been jumping around so much you're going to dehydrate!”
The distraction came just when I didn't need it. I'd been doing a fine job of forgetting people and focusing just on the girl in my arms, but now the magic was broken and we had to fight our way through the crowd, trying not to lose sight of the bouncing, blonde head that signaled Anna's progress.
She guided us to the kitchen and shoved a beer under each
of our noses. “Drink up. The way you two were moving, you must be dehydrated,” she said.
“How sweet of you to come to the rescue,” Alice said with a snort, opening her can.
“You could try to act like it wasn't so unwanted.”
“Well... I promised I wouldn't lie again, you know.”
They giggled and clinked their drinks together in a toast before turning to me.
“Don't tell me you don't drink,” said Anna.
I shrugged. “Not in hostile territory.”
“Aw, come on, Keith, it's just us here.”
“And about a hundred others over there.” I nodded toward the main room.
“Whatever. We'll protect you, right, Alice?” Alice didn't say anything, but the way she leaned against my side, the way the grip of her arm tightened around my waist, it spoke volumes. “Plus, you know few can stand in the way of Her Royal Bitchy Highness when it comes to you, and I don't want you sober while we talk right now.”
“Is there something wrong?” I looked between the girls when her words registered. “Ah, should I.... scram or something?”
“No, no, silly. I want you here. I yanked your hair, remember?” My scalp did. “It's just... Wait, drink a bit more.”
I looked at Alice, who lifted an eyebrow. I shrugged and I dutifully took a false swig while she lifted the can to her lips.
“Anna, I hope there's a point to this,” she said, putting down her empty with a grimace.
“Of course there is.”
“Enlighten us.” The beer slushed around in my mostly-full can, and I discreetly set it down as well.
“If I change my mind about this tomorrow, I can tell you it's been an alcoholic hallucination.” She looked convinced while she said it.
“Just how many have you had, anyway?” Alice said, a mix between amusement and worry playing around her features.
“A couple or so.”
“Or so, I bet,” I muttered.
Anna swatted my head, annoyed. “Shut up and listen. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not drunk.” Both Alice and I gave her a look. “I wasn't drunk before.”