Deadly Silence (Silence Jones Action Thrillers Series) by Erik Carter (the best books to read TXT) 📕

arms rigid at her side, fists clenched.

“What the hell do you want?”

“To pay my bill.”

“A little late now! You got me my last point. Kevin fired my ass.”

Silence looked past her at all the empty tables and booths. “Why still here?”

She turned away, mortified. “He said I could finish my shift, and … I’m gonna need the money.”

Silence sensed motion at his periphery. He glanced to the left.

Kevin appeared in the kitchen doorway, as he had earlier. And, as before, he quickly scurried away.

Silence stormed off.

Val called out from behind him. “What are you doing?”

He pushed through the swinging door into a grimy kitchen with a grimy cook behind a bank of grimy stainless-steel grills. The air was hot, moist, smelled like grease and industrial cleaners. The floor stuck to his shoes.

“Hey, man!” the cook shouted, approaching. “You can’t be back here.”

Silence ignored him, came to a stop, scanned the kitchen.

And spotted it.

At the back of the space. An office door, half closed.

He bounded across the kitchen, smacked the door open, and stomped inside.

A tiny room almost as grimy as the kitchen. Papers thumbtacked to the walls. Shelves with stacks of binders above a battered filing cabinet. A noisy, scuffed-up computer humming warm air from its dusty vents.

And Kevin, sitting on the matted red cloth seat of a swivel chair.

The little worm jumped. He literally jumped. His ass lifted three inches off the seat cushion. And he screamed.

Silence grabbed him, yanked him to his feet. There was hardly enough space in the room for the two of them, and Silence kept him close, hands on his shirt, glowering face inches away from the smaller man’s.

“Here to pay.”

“What?”

“My bill.”

“You pay out there! Pay your waitress.”

“She’s not fired.”

“Val? Oh, yes, she is! When you left without payment, that was her fifth point, and—”

Silence slammed him against the shelving. A binder fell. It slapped against the concrete floor.

Kevin screamed again. “Okay! Okay, I … I’ll bring her back. I’ll take off that last point.” A wobbly smile. “I mean, you did come back to pay. It’s only fair, right?” He laughed nervously.

“All her points,” Silence said. He swallowed. “Clear them.”

“But I—”

Silence didn’t slam him into the shelves again. He just leaned in closer, let Kevin see the dark sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay,” Kevin gasped.

Silence lessened the anger in his expression. He gave Kevin a slow nod and released him.

“Come with me.”

Silence marched him through the kitchen. The cook looked on in awe.

A moment later in the seating area, they approached Val, who wore an even more stunned expression than the cook had.

When they stopped before her, Kevin avoided eye contact, and Silence reached into his pocket, took a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, handed it to her.

“There. Paid,” he said to Kevin. “Tell her.”

Kevin finally brought his eyes to Val before quickly looking away again. “Valerie, given your, um … due to your exemplary performance, all of your points will be erased. Bobbie Sue’s Family Restaurant and Old-Fashioned Fun Incorporated would be honored if you would continue in our employ.”

Val nodded, but she looked at Silence, not Kevin, when she gave her reply. “Thank you.”

Silence acknowledged her then faced Kevin. “Apologize.”

Kevin looked at Val for a long moment, took in a breath. “If I’ve ever made you feel like I’ve critiqued your performance more critically than others, or if I’ve ever made your work environment feel in any way less comfortable than the established standards set forth by—”

“Get to point,” Silence said.

Kevin looked at Silence then to Val again. “I’m sorry, Val.”

Val uncrossed her arms, gave Kevin the tiniest of smiles.

“Leave,” Silence said.

Kevin scuttled off.

Val watched Kevin vanish into the kitchen once more, then took a step closer to Silence.

“I don’t know what to say.” A moment of looking at him, and then she put her hand on his shoulder. She smiled, looked away, took the hand back and plunged it into her apron. “Here, I need to get you your change.”

“Keep it,” Silence said. And as he looked down upon her, he thought of something. “In fact…”

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved the stack of one-hundred-dollar bills, handed it to her.

He swallowed. “Didn’t tip enough.”

Val flipped through the bills, eyes going wider and wider, filling with tears.

Silence turned and headed for the exit.

Footsteps behind him, coming at a run.

“Rob, wait!”

As he pushed the door’s touch bar and was halfway out into the balmy night, she grabbed his arm, turned him around.

Her hand remained, fingers clenching, as she looked into him, pupils skittering, searching, trying to ascertain.

“I know you barely talk, but…”

She trailed off, looked at the bills in her hand. Her grip on his arm lessened. A couple of shallow breaths followed by several slow, disbelieving shakes of her head.

She looked up at him again.

“But say something. Please! Something. Anything.”

Silence gave her a smile.

“Goodbye,” he said.

And he left.

Continue Your Silence Jones Journey

Thank you for reading Deadly Silence. I hope you loved this novella-length introduction to the world of Silence Jones.

Would you like to know what happened after the events in New Orleans? Would you like to know Silence’s full origin story?

The first full-length novel in the Silence Jones series, The Suppressor, reveals how Jake Rowe became Silence Jones. It takes place directly after the New Orleans component of Deadly Silence.

For a two-chapter sample of The Suppressor, keep flipping.

Or, to jump right into the action, click the link below.

The Suppressor is available at an amazing introductory price, making it the perfect stepping stone into the rest of the series.

THE SUPPRESSOR

The Suppressor: Chapter 1

Pensacola, Florida

The 1990s

The man was out there, somewhere, hidden in the shadows and completely silent.

And the man was on the hunt.

Clayton Glover, the prey, squeezed himself tighter against the uneven surface, trying to match the silence of the predator. He inched his face toward the corner, stole a glance.

Nothing.

Just deep darkness pierced by crisscrossed streams of faint light that came in through the warehouse’s banks of windows, dust particles dancing within. Row after row