The Silent Sounds of Chaos (8 page)

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Authors: Kristina Circelli

BOOK: The Silent Sounds of Chaos
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“I wanna play!” the child insisted, holding out a doll and abandoning the cape.

“Bedtime,” Snow insisted. The girl’s face scrunched into what Snow recognized as a look of evil determination.

“You have to play or I’ll tell Mommy you were mean to me,” was the garbled reply, spoken in childish gibberish with just the right amount of manipulation to have Snow quickly jumping to her feet.

“Okay, okay. Ten minutes of playtime, then bed.”

“I win!” the little girl cheered, grabbing another doll and plunking down on the carpet. “Wanna play dolls?” When Snow didn’t immediately answer, she screeched, “Wanna play dolls?!”

Unable to resist, Snow replied with a nod then silently shouted,
FINN WANNA PLAY DOLLS?

The reply came quickly.
You scared the shit out of me
.

Snow laughed both aloud and so he could hear. Over the past few years they’d gotten better at talking to one another at random times, often without having to even concentrate on sending their thoughts. It didn’t always work, but at least they didn’t need to be sad or scared to find each other anymore.

Watch your language, young man.

Yeah, yeah.

Finn had gotten used to Snow lecturing him on his worsening mouth. She knew his language was a product of his environment and how he was raised. Not that she knew all the details, just that he lived in a bad area and his mom was a pretty terrible person. She knew he got in trouble a lot, and had been suspended from school last year for fighting. But despite all that, how she felt about him never changed. He was her best friend, even if no one knew about him.

She’d never broken her promise to herself, and kept Finn a secret after Miss Jenn’s visit … and second and third and fourth visits after that. It made her parents happy that she no longer talked to Finn, and it made her happy to keep talking to him, so keeping her secret was the best choice for everyone.

Why are you playing dolls anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be too old for that now?

The question broke her out of her thoughts.
You’re never too old to play with dolls.

Pretty sure that’s not true.

It is
, she insisted playfully, then added with a grin,
It’s totally finntertaining.

Even in his head he groaned at the bad joke.
Dork.

You’re just jealous you can’t come up with anything for Snow.

Yeah, yeah. So you’re not seriously playing with dolls are you? Like by yourself?

Snow filled him in on her babysitting job, then moved on to updates about her life since it had been a couple weeks since they last talked. Funny school stories, nice things her parents did for her. She no longer feared they would stop loving her or want to give her back, but Snow still tried hard to be the best daughter possible.

Babies are lame. I never want any.

Snow huffed.
Babies are fun. I want a bunch when I grow up and get married.

‘Cause you’re a girl, and girls are mushy.

Yeah well, you’re a boy. And boys are so FINNicky
. Snow giggled to herself and imagined him rolling his eyes. She’d learned the word last week and couldn’t wait to use it with him. Even better was getting to use a second pun so quickly in conversation.

You really are such a nerd
, Finn replied with a laugh, then fell silent.

Having grown used to long lapses in conversation, Snow turned back to the little girl at her feet, acting out an entire wedding scene with her before Finn finally popped back into her thoughts like a flicker of light behind her eyes. When he did, his voice was hesitant, questioning.

Snow, you think that sometimes it’s okay to do bad things? Like, maybe it’s not a bad thing if it’s for a good reason?

The question worried her.
Depends on what you’re doing, I guess. And why you’re doing it. Why? What are you doing?

 

 

The sun had long since lowered by the time Finn finally reached his destination. Hands in his pockets to ward off the chill in the evening air, he stared from the corner at the nondescript building lit up by a single light in the parking lot and flashing neon bulbs coming from inside. He’d only seen the outside of the club during the day, never at night, never quite able to tell exactly what lay in wait for him inside.

He’d snuck out of the house before dinner, hitching a ride until he could make the rest of his way across town on foot. Finn knew he would be in trouble later, but didn’t care. This was the moment he’d been planning for years, ever since he’d decided to grow up and get what he wanted out of life. The day he’d no longer be the boy hiding in the closet, but the bad-ass he was meant to be.

The following years had been filled with preparation. He’d exercised, got in fights so people knew not to mess with him, listened to talk on the streets for names he needed to know, even stole alcohol and cigarettes when he could so he didn’t look like a rookie if it was offered when he walked into the club.

For a fleeting moment, Finn wondered what Snow would think of him, standing on the street corner surrounded by run-down homes and trash lining the gutters, with only neon lights guiding him to an uncertain future. He could easily see her doing something
good
, something boring, while he was about to walk into the darkest part of his town. But then he decided he didn’t care.

He was thirteen now, old enough to make up his own mind. He was doing this, and he was doing this now.

FINN WANNA PLAY DOLLS?

Snow’s outburst startled him back onto the curb just as he’d started crossing the street. Heart thumping—part caught off-guard by his friend, part nervous about what he was about to do—Finn allowed himself a moment to reply only because it had been a while since they last spoke.

The conversation nearly unnerved him. It was so innocent, her thoughts filled with so much joy and her replies so playful, Snow actually listening when he gave her a brief recap of his life. If only she could have been there with him, next to him, guiding him to a path where they could always be friends.

What are you doing?

The question rang loud and clear in his head. Remembering where he was, who was and wasn’t by his side, Finn took a moment to decide how he wanted to answer it. He didn’t want to say anything at all, because he’d made a promise to himself a long time ago never to lie to his only real friend, so instead he quickly said,
Don’t worry about it, I was just asking
, and ended the conversation.

Alone in his thoughts now, he pushed Snow’s subconscious to the back of his own and forced himself to hold his head high. Across the street awaited his destination, beckoning to him, inviting him in from the cold. Normally Finn loved the winter air and all the brilliant white snow that came with it—winter made everyone even, didn’t care who it fell upon, who it froze; in the dead of winter, no one was tougher than nature—but tonight he wanted nothing more than to give in to the lure of warmth.

He continue the trek to the club, until he was facing the back door. Club Infinity was one of the more popular hangouts in town even though it was never promoted around town like other companies, but everyone knew the place for what it was. There was a reason the club was one of the few businesses in the area that managed to stay open for any length of time. Drugs, gambling, women. Taking care of the competition so no other name except Infinity was spoken. Paying off cops and city officials to look the other way. As far as Finn knew, there was no limit.

And now he was ready to make a profit, too.

Finn squared his shoulders and knocked hard on reinforced steel, a demand to be answered. When the door opened he had to force himself not to take a step back. In front of him stood a tall, bald man with bulging muscles so large he barely fit in the doorway, glaring down at him behind a pair of dark sunglasses that hid his eyes, but not his scowl.

“What do you want?”

Finn made sure his face matched the man’s expression as he replied, “I wanna see Joe.”

The man scoffed. “Ain’t nobody sees Joe ‘less Joe wants to be seen. You know you can’t come in here, kid.” He made to close the door, but Finn slammed a hand on the hard metal. Though he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop the man, he did succeed in catching his attention.

“I know who you are, Chix. And I know Joe is here. So, Chix, I wanna see Joe and you ain’t gonna stop me.”

The man paused and finally took a good, long look at the teenager in front of him. “You wearin’ Joe’s old jacket?”

Finn adjusted the leather jacket, which was still too big, and nodded. He got that question a lot because of the red infinity symbol stitched at the right shoulder. He always assumed it was the club’s logo, especially since other people knew it as Joe’s, though the symbol was nowhere to be found on the club’s sign or building. “He gave it to me. Said to come see him when I was ready.”

Chix grinned at that, revealing two rows of crooked white teeth. “Did he now? Come on in then, kid. Let’s see what good old Joe has to say about that.”

Breathing deep, Finn stepped out of the cold and into the black hole of Infinity. Instantly he was swallowed in a world of red—red lights, red walls, red chair just inside the back door. As he followed the large man down the hall, he felt Snow pricking at the corners of his mind, trying to find out what he was doing, but he pushed her back.

She didn’t need to know about this.

 

 

 

HE STOOD ON the other side of a massive wooden desk. The sides and surface were scarred with age and abuse despite the sleek and smooth coating, the wood faded, the top bare save for a lamp, pack of cigarettes, and laptop. And behind the desk were two men, one sitting in a large leather chair, the other standing at his side with his arms crossed.

The one who stood was a man Finn hadn’t spoken to in almost three years, but saw here and there around town. Once he’d watched from a distance as the man stomped out of his trailer only a few weeks after catching him on the couch with his mother. Finn never forgot his name—Joe—though he had forgotten how intimidating the man was. Tall, narrowed brown eyes, with huge shoulders and a broad, scowling face accented by a scar along his jaw, Joe was every bit the kind of angry bad guy people expected to be in Club Infinity.

But Joe was nothing compared to the calm and collected man in a tailored black suit who sat before him. He was older, old enough to be his grandfather, with gray hair perfectly styled in slicked-back strands and eyes so blue Finn felt like he was looking at ice. Indeed, his entire expression was cold, down to the purse of his lips and the rigid set of wide shoulders. He wasn’t a large man, rather slim actually, but his presence exuded confidence, authority … the assurance of certain death should anyone cross his path the wrong way.

Yes, Finn knew this man too. Everyone knew Charlie.

“Kid said he’s here to see you, Joe. Said you were expecting him.”

Finn had forgotten about the bouncer who let him in and was now retreating toward the door. He jumped when the voice sounded behind him, inwardly cursing himself for the slight. If they noticed, they didn’t comment, instead merely staring at the boy in the oversized leather jacket wearing an expression that tried a little too hard to be tough.

Joe broke the silence after the bouncer left the office, closing the door behind him. “So that’s where my jacket ran off to.”

The greeting confused and disappointed Finn. He dropped his backpack to the floor and crossed his arms, torn between being offended or pissed off that Joe was looking at him like he was just another kid on the street. “You saying you don’t remember me?”

Joe laughed. It was a hoarse sound, grating, every bit as rough as the man it belonged to. “Yeah, yeah. I remember you. Kid with balls of steel,” he replied with a dismissive shrug. “How’s your momma?”

Finn’s jaw clenched at the question and humiliation burned his cheeks. It was no secret to anyone in the room that his mom had more than one encounter with Joe. Just as it was no secret she had more than one encounter with most of the men in town. Even though he’d learned to turn the other cheek to people’s snarky comments, it still burned when they threw her choices in his face. It wasn’t his fault she spread her legs as soon as someone came to the door with coke in their hands.

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