The Silent Sounds of Chaos (15 page)

“What?” He regretted the bitterly spoken word as soon as he saw who was demanding a presence with him. “Oh. Hey, Joe.”

The hulking brute of a man crossed his thick arms. “Where’ve you been? Charlie’s demandin’ you come in. Get your shit together and let’s go. And wash up. You look like shit.”

Finn knew better than to argue with Charlie’s number two. He may hate the man, but he was still second in charge. “Yeah, okay. Just let me grab my jacket.” Turning, he retreated to his room, unable to shake the nagging feeling he was supposed to be doing something much more important as he shrugged on the leather jacket. Sighing against a growing migraine, he nearly left the room when his open laptop caught his eye. The screen was dimmed but clearly showing a live feed of a news station.

Memories of last night slammed into him. Charlie’s phone call. Driving home as fast as he possibly could. Snow scolding him, him yelling at her.

Snow screaming, then nothing but silence.

Finn slid into the desk chair, focused entirely on the screen. He turned the volume up, eyes scanning the monitor to see he was on a Georgia news station. The morning news was being played, two anchors sharing details he only caught the tail end of.

“…abducted from campus around approximately one AM last night. Her parents contacted local police when she couldn’t be reached this morning, and her roommate confirmed she never arrived home last night. Campus officials reviewed security tapes and discovered this chilling footage.”

The nausea in his gut returned as Finn stared at the screen. The footage was dark and grainy, but clearly showed what he feared—a young woman being tracked by two men in black, surrounded, her mouth open in an unheard shout for help, then struck multiple times into unconsciousness. As he watched, Finn heard those silent screams in his head, echoing and echoing until they, too, faded away into mere memory.

The anchors were still talking, but he couldn’t hear them over the pounding in his head, the deafening roaring in his ears as his eyes trained on one spot on the screen. Security footage had disappeared, replaced by an image in the upper right-hand corner. A young woman, just a girl, really, with curled blonde hair, lively blue eyes, porcelain skin, and a smile that spoke of kindness and purity.

“Snow. There you are, Snow,” he whispered, voice catching on the single word, lips parting in shock as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. She looked exactly like he’d always imagined, such light and happiness and innocence, an angel to his devil, but it was so much more than that. He was drawn to her, wanted to protect her. Kill for her.

He had to find her.

“The hell you doing?” Joe shouted from the other room. Heavy steps stomped into the bedroom, a strong hand grabbing him by the back of the jacket. “Ain’t time for computer browsing, boy. Charlie’s looking for you.”

Before he could argue, Finn was yanked off his feet and dragged down the hall, all but thrown into Joe’s car outside. All the while he struggled to come up with one of many plans, though none of them made sense.

He had to go to Georgia.
You take Charlie’s car without permission, he’ll kill you.

He was going to find her.
You don’t know where she is.

He would kill those mother fuckers who hurt his friend.
You barely know what they look like.

He would save Snow.
You don’t even know if she’s still alive.

Searching internally, Finn listened for her voice, tried to feel her presence. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was crazy after all, that Snow had been a voice in his head all along. But just as soon as he thought it, he pushed the notion away. No, he knew Snow was real. She was part of him. Or, she used to be. Now he was drifting amidst a sea of his own doubt and fear. Where she once consumed him, there was nothing.

Just an empty silence he didn’t know what to do with.

“WHERE THE HELL have you been?”

Charlie stared up at him from behind his desk, his eyes a terrifying mix of furious and something Finn couldn’t quite identify. Worry? Murderous? Whatever it was, years of receiving any kind of glare from the man had taught Finn not to fidget, but to put on as brave a front as possible, even if he didn’t really feel it inside.

“I called you last night. You said you were on your way. I want to know what happened.”

He nearly told the truth before fear held him back, an uncertainty that he wouldn’t be believed. So he chose a lie instead. “I was on my way. Guess I had too much to drink and forgot and went home instead.”

Finn tried to take a step back when Charlie rose, but Joe was standing behind him, blocking his escape. “You chose to get drunk instead? You
forgot
?” the older man growled, unusually grouchy compared to his normally calm and collected exterior. “This is unacceptable. I’ve put up with your shit long enough. If you—”

“I need some time off,” Finn cut in before he could talk himself out of the interruption. He set his jaw when Charlie stiffened and crossed his arms.

For a moment, the two engaged in a long stare-off, until the younger boy relented, knowing his place. Charlie nodded when Finn’s eyes lowered. “Time off,” the man repeated slowly, his voice strangely quiet. “You better have a good reason for saying those two words to me right now.”

“I know, I just…” He couldn’t tell Charlie the truth. He’d think he was crazy. But, he could at least let his boss know he wasn’t just slacking off. “Look, a friend of mine is in trouble, asked me to help her out.”

The anger in Charlie’s eyes faded slightly, replaced by that same emotion Finn couldn’t place earlier. “Her? What kind of trouble we talking about here?”

“I’m not sure,” Finn was quick to say, seeing the conversation possibly going his way. “But she asked me for help and I promised to be there. Look, that’s all I can say. I need a week to get to Georgia and help her. I’ve got some money saved to cover the cost. I can—”

“Stop,” Charlie commanded, holding out a hand. “I don’t have time for this. I have things to take care of at home, which you were made aware of when we spoke last night. You need to be here, and that is final.”

Finn hesitated, wanting to fight for himself and for Snow, unsure what would happen should he cross his boss. He steeled his nerves and replied, “I need to be there. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

The air stilled, deadly in its silence. Finn felt his heart beat harder and his fingers threaten to tremble. But he stood tall, even when Charlie stalked around the desk slowly, a predator after prey, stopping only when he towered over his apprentice.

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” Charlie asked in a calm, controlled voice everyone recognized as the tone that preceded a bloodbath. “Do you think I’m a foolish old man who can be bossed around by a child?”

“…No,” Finn answered after a beat, trying to think of the right thing to say to keep the man from burying him. “I just … She’s special to me and … if I don’t help her, it might be too late. She needs me. I’m all she’s got.”

“And who is this precious friend?”

“A girl I’ve known since I was little. She doesn’t live in town.” That much was true. “You don’t know her.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “How convenient.”

The accusatory tone stiffened Finn’s back. “I’m not lying, Charlie. I know better than that. She needs me, and I’m wasting time standing here trying to convince you to let me go.”

“You think I’m going to let you run off to God knows where? You’ve been working for me for many years, but that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, no matter what personal issues you have. Not in this business.”

“Then send someone with me,” Finn argued back, determined to win this battle. “I’m not looking to do anything shady, Charlie. I just need some time to take care of my friend. If that means having a babysitter, then fine.”

Eyes narrowed, Charlie stared down the young man before him, begrudgingly impressed when Finn didn’t flinch or look away. “A babysitter,” he muttered, jaw working as he thought it over. “Fine. If this is what you have to do, then so be it. But Joe will be going with you.”

Joe, who had said nothing from his place by the door since delivering Finn, straightened, his face a portrait of indignation. “Charlie, I ain’t some babysitter for the punk. You can’t think he’s being serious. Kid’s clearly planning somethin’ and with everythin’ else going on—”

“This is neither a negotiation nor a request,” Charlie cut in smoothly, his icy blue eyes never leaving Finn. “You will go, and you will both return in one week. You have until noon to make your preparations, then the clock starts.”

“And make no mistake,” Charlie continued as Finn turned to leave, ready to race out the door. “When your week is up, you
will
return to this spot, and you
will
tell me exactly what happened.”

Offering a single nod, Finn rushed past Joe, heading for his car. He only had a few hours to prepare to save Snow.

NOTHING SHORT OF shock accompanied him on the drive to the trailer park. Finn hadn’t expected Charlie to relent, especially that fast and suddenly, agreeing to give him some time away from the club to deal with his “personal issues,” as his boss put it. Just as he hadn’t expected help along the way, some money for the road. Still, Finn understood the rules.

He was given a week. Seven days to figure his shit out and save Snow. He’d worry about what to tell Charlie when he got back.

“What the hell am I going to do?” he muttered as he pulled into the driveway he hated most. These days he came by once a week, and it was only to check on his younger brother. Tommy was seven now, old enough to know his life was shit and his mother even worse, but not old or strong enough to do anything about it. The sickness that plagued him as a baby and toddler was still ever present in his lungs, making him prone to asthma attacks and harsh coughs that, more than once, led to bronchitis or pneumonia. His ailments only made it that much harder for Finn to leave him behind.

Biting back a sigh, Finn steeled his nerves and ordered himself to keep his cool before exiting the car and all but stomping up the rickety steps. The front door swung open—locks were never one of his mother’s few concerns—and the odor of sweat, smoke, and stale alcohol nearly choked him.

Nothing ever fucking changes
, he thought bitterly, then followed his thought with an automatic,
Sorry, Snow
.

The silently spoken words froze his feet as sorrow swept through him. Over the years he’d grown so used to apologizing for cursing that it was habitual. Snow hadn’t always replied to his random, everyday thoughts, but always was there to remind him to watch his language.

Now she was gone, the person he depended on most merely a name he whispered in his head.

“I’ll get you back,” he spoke the promise and pushed through the mess of the house, to his old room. At his back, his mother’s bedroom door was closed, and he guessed she likely was either passed out with a bottle in her hand or had her head in some guy’s lap.

The room was quiet when he entered, light spotted on the wall through a frayed curtain. On the bed, the same bed Finn had used growing up, was Tommy, still sound asleep. Finn sat on the edge of the bed and bounced a couple times, unable to keep from grinning when his brother muttered a complaint.

“Rise and shine, Tom-Tom. We got places to be.”

“Don’t wanna,” the boy whined, trying to cover himself up with a tattered blanket. “Tired.”

Finn chuckled but pulled the blanket off, then grabbed an old backpack from the floor, stuffing whatever clothes he could find that seemed somewhat clean inside. A couple toys were added before he zipped the bag up and clapped his hands once, startling his brother.

“Come on. We gotta go.”

“Go where?”

Pulling Tommy up by his shoulders, Finn tossed a set of clothes at him, waiting until the boy begrudgingly began to dress. “I have to go on a trip, and need to make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone. Come on. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Not giving his brother time to argue, Finn helped him dress the rest of the way then slung the bag over his shoulder, leading Tommy out of the room, through the sludge of empty bottles and dirty clothes that lined the hallway.

“The hell you think you’re going with my stuff?”

The slurred voice slowed him down, but didn’t stop his forward trek to the front door. Only when his mother blocked his path did Finn finally look up at her. “Your stuff?” he repeated incredulously. “Your ability to love continues to amaze me.”

“Don’t act like you’re so perfect and innocent,” she spat back. One hand braced herself against the couch; the other gripped the neck of a clear glass bottle. Her eyes dropped to the bag at his shoulder. “The hell you doing?”

“Going on a trip. An actual trip, not one you find with a needle.”

She scoffed. “Like you ever gave a shit. So you got money now. Doesn’t give you the right to barge in here and take what’s mine.”

He could have reminded her he came every week with food—food she likely ate herself or gave to one of her many boyfriends—or that every piece of clothing Tommy owned was purchased with his own money. He could have thrown the boy’s illness in her face, or told her exactly what he thought of her mothering skills. But he knew it would have been on wasted breaths, so instead he merely said, “If you can tell me how old Tommy is, he’ll stay.”