Read Online The Silent Sounds of Chaos by Kristina Circelli - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kristina Circelli
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open access.”
“You’re just the one demanding that access.”
For the first time since Finn entered the room, the man at the desk seemed to notice him. He chuckled, a deep and almost friendly sound, even as Joe smirked. “Your momma wants the goods,” he replied nonchalantly, “so I take her goods in return. That’s business.”
“You ain’t a businessman. You’re just a lackey,” Finn shot back.
“Now look here, you little—”
“Enough, Joe,” the man in charge silenced with a wave of a manicured and gold-ringed hand. “Are you really arguing with a child over sleeping with his mother?” He grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the desk and lit it, taking a long drag while observing the teenage boy. In the harsh light of the office Finn felt small and exposed, and hated it.
“So,” Charlie drawled, those piercing blue eyes seeing right through the boy, “Joe gives you his jacket and you think that makes you just like him, huh?”
“No.”
“No? Then what does it make you?”
Caught, Finn had to think about the question. What did the jacket make him? The wrong answer would have him kicked out on his ass in a heartbeat. The right answer would give him exactly what he wanted. Charlie waited patiently, fingers tapping lightly against one another.
Finally Finn straightened his shoulders and said, “It makes me just what you need. I don’t wanna be like Joe. I want to be better.”
“Better,” Charlie mused, sparing a quick glance at Joe and seeing his second hand torn between amusement and rage. “Better sounds interesting. But I don’t need better. I need best.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s what I am.” He was glad his comeback sounded far stronger than he felt on the inside.
“The best, huh. Little teenage boy with no experience and no real knowledge of the world is the best to ever walk into my office. Should I bow in your presence?” Lifting a brow, he held out the pack of cigarettes, both an offering and a test.
Cautiously, Finn reached out and took one, holding it with confidence when Charlie reached over with the lighter. He’d seen his mother smoke hundreds of times and tried his own hand at it over the years for specifically this moment. Here, he had something to prove.
Despite all his practice, Finn’s throat and chest burned with the first drag, and he fought a cough as he released a breath in a cloud of smoke. A bitter, disgusting taste filled his mouth but he refused to show any signs of discomfort.
Satisfied, Charlie nodded and sat back. “So, what’s up, kid?”
“My name’s not kid.”
“No? Then what is it?”
“Finn.”
Charlie shot him a look of amusement, one the boy recognized as being dismissed. He’d seen that look too many times from adults over the years. “Finn, huh?” the man at the desk repeated as Joe shook his head. “If you say so. All right, kid , if you want to be here and be like ‘ole Joe, or be better than Joe, as you say, let’s try again. What do you want?”
His answer was direct, honest. “Money.”
“Money? You’re barely out of diapers. What do you need money for?”
Finn took a step closer to the desk, staring the other man down. “‘Cause I need it. And I know you got it. Why I need it ain’t any business of yours. So you gonna give me a job or what?”
The man who could just as easily kill him as give him a job sat forward, the lamp highlighting his face in ominous shadows angled along sharp cheekbones. “Some scrawny and scraggly kid? What good is a tired and hungry kid to me?”
“So give me something to eat. See what I can do after I bulk up.”
After a pause, Charlie chuckled and gestured to Joe, who gave a curt nod before disappearing into the hallway. Both boy and man were silent, Finn clenching his teeth together in an effort to keep from shuffling his feet and wringing his hands together, until Joe returned a few minutes later, tossing a burger wrapped in aluminum foil on the desk in front of
“You’re just the one demanding that access.”
For the first time since Finn entered the room, the man at the desk seemed to notice him. He chuckled, a deep and almost friendly sound, even as Joe smirked. “Your momma wants the goods,” he replied nonchalantly, “so I take her goods in return. That’s business.”
“You ain’t a businessman. You’re just a lackey,” Finn shot back.
“Now look here, you little—”
“Enough, Joe,” the man in charge silenced with a wave of a manicured and gold-ringed hand. “Are you really arguing with a child over sleeping with his mother?” He grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the desk and lit it, taking a long drag while observing the teenage boy. In the harsh light of the office Finn felt small and exposed, and hated it.
“So,” Charlie drawled, those piercing blue eyes seeing right through the boy, “Joe gives you his jacket and you think that makes you just like him, huh?”
“No.”
“No? Then what does it make you?”
Caught, Finn had to think about the question. What did the jacket make him? The wrong answer would have him kicked out on his ass in a heartbeat. The right answer would give him exactly what he wanted. Charlie waited patiently, fingers tapping lightly against one another.
Finally Finn straightened his shoulders and said, “It makes me just what you need. I don’t wanna be like Joe. I want to be better.”
“Better,” Charlie mused, sparing a quick glance at Joe and seeing his second hand torn between amusement and rage. “Better sounds interesting. But I don’t need better. I need best.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s what I am.” He was glad his comeback sounded far stronger than he felt on the inside.
“The best, huh. Little teenage boy with no experience and no real knowledge of the world is the best to ever walk into my office. Should I bow in your presence?” Lifting a brow, he held out the pack of cigarettes, both an offering and a test.
Cautiously, Finn reached out and took one, holding it with confidence when Charlie reached over with the lighter. He’d seen his mother smoke hundreds of times and tried his own hand at it over the years for specifically this moment. Here, he had something to prove.
Despite all his practice, Finn’s throat and chest burned with the first drag, and he fought a cough as he released a breath in a cloud of smoke. A bitter, disgusting taste filled his mouth but he refused to show any signs of discomfort.
Satisfied, Charlie nodded and sat back. “So, what’s up, kid?”
“My name’s not kid.”
“No? Then what is it?”
“Finn.”
Charlie shot him a look of amusement, one the boy recognized as being dismissed. He’d seen that look too many times from adults over the years. “Finn, huh?” the man at the desk repeated as Joe shook his head. “If you say so. All right, kid , if you want to be here and be like ‘ole Joe, or be better than Joe, as you say, let’s try again. What do you want?”
His answer was direct, honest. “Money.”
“Money? You’re barely out of diapers. What do you need money for?”
Finn took a step closer to the desk, staring the other man down. “‘Cause I need it. And I know you got it. Why I need it ain’t any business of yours. So you gonna give me a job or what?”
The man who could just as easily kill him as give him a job sat forward, the lamp highlighting his face in ominous shadows angled along sharp cheekbones. “Some scrawny and scraggly kid? What good is a tired and hungry kid to me?”
“So give me something to eat. See what I can do after I bulk up.”
After a pause, Charlie chuckled and gestured to Joe, who gave a curt nod before disappearing into the hallway. Both boy and man were silent, Finn clenching his teeth together in an effort to keep from shuffling his feet and wringing his hands together, until Joe returned a few minutes later, tossing a burger wrapped in aluminum foil on the desk in front of
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