Chapter Ten #2
Silence pressed in from every corner. Danny’s pulse kicked up a notch.
Inside, the house felt too still, like a held breath.
Afternoon light filtered through sheer curtains, casting pale rectangles across the hardwood floor.
Floral wallpaper climbed the entryway walls, faded and peeling at the corners.
Family photos lined the narrow hallway in mismatched frames.
Everything looked exactly as it always did.
It even smelled familiar. The faint scent of coffee clung to the air, along with something floral, probably from the diffuser his mom kept on the hall table.
Except something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.
“Do you smell food cooking?” Danny asked quietly.
Isaac sniffed the air. “No. Nothing.”
Lunch was supposed to be at noon. It was five past. His mom always had something going by now, filling the house with the smell of roasted meat or baking bread. Even bad cooking had a smell.
This was nothing. Just stale air and dust and wrongness.
Isaac wandered toward the kitchen, footsteps soft on the floor. “I’m starving. Think she made anything good?”
Danny followed, but slower. Listening. Waiting for the usual sounds of his mom bustling around, Laura’s laugh, something to explain the strange quiet pressing against his eardrums.
In the kitchen, everything sat untouched. No pots on the stove, no plates set out, no smell of food cooking or even reheating. Just the hum of the refrigerator and Isaac opening cabinets like he owned the place.
“Nothing?” Isaac frowned at the empty counters. “She invited you to lunch but didn’t make lunch?”
“Maybe she’s running late.” But even as Danny said it, he didn’t believe it. His mom was never late. Never unprepared. Laura’s car was here. Where were they?
A sound drifted from upstairs. Faint. Almost like someone grunting, or maybe struggling with something heavy.
“Did you hear that?” Danny’s blood turned cold.
Isaac tilted his head, listening. “Yeah.”
There it was again. Muffled, coming from the second floor. Danny’s skin prickled, every instinct screaming that something was very, very wrong.
Danny’s fingers went numb. He fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it twice before getting it unlocked. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“What are you doing?” Isaac whispered.
“Texting Ash.” Danny’s thumbs kept hitting the wrong keys. He had to delete and retype three times before he managed to get the message out.
At moms house. Something feels hinkt
Danny deleted and tried again.
At moms house. Somethin feels hinky
Good enough. Send.
Isaac grabbed his wrist. “Get behind me.”
“What? No, I—”
“Now, Danny.” Something in Isaac’s voice left no room for argument. Gone was the dramatic best friend who complained about basic-bitch nail polish colors. In his place stood someone Danny barely recognized, features grim.
Danny moved behind him without another word.
Together they crept toward the stairs, every footfall deliberate and slow. Carpet muffled their steps but Danny’s heart hammered so loud he was certain anyone in the house could hear it. His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it. Probably Ash responding.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Isaac froze on the third step. Danny nearly crashed into his back.
Another muffled sound. Louder now. Coming from his mom’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
Every instinct screamed at Danny to run. To grab Isaac and get the hell out of this house. Call the cops from the car, let them handle whatever nightmare waited upstairs.
But Laura might’ve been up there. His mom might’ve also been up there.
He couldn’t leave them.
That desperate, muffled sound kept coming from the second floor. Danny’s legs moved on autopilot as he followed Isaac up the stairs, each step creaking under their weight.
At the top, the hallway stretched dark and silent. Doors stood closed, hiding whatever waited behind them. That grunting sound came again, louder now, making Danny’s heart thump even harder.
Air thickened, pressing against Danny’s lungs. Time stretched, each second an eternity. His mind spiraled through possibilities, each worse than the last. His mom had fallen. Laura was hurt. Something terrible had happened and he was too late to stop it.
What if this was all some horrible misunderstanding and his mom would laugh at them for being so paranoid? Danny prayed that was the case and not something disastrous.
Isaac’s hand closed around the doorknob. He glanced back at Danny, eyes asking a silent question.
Danny nodded.
Slowly, Isaac turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Everything inside Danny turned to static.
His mom sat on the bed, hands bound behind her back with what looked like zip ties. Duct tape covered her mouth. Next to her, Laura was tied the same way, tears streaming down her face.
And standing beside them, gun pointed directly at Danny’s face, was Brad.
Time fractured.
Sound disappeared, replaced by the roar of blood in his ears. Danny’s mind went completely, utterly blank. Not a thought. Not a word. Just white noise and the sight of Brad’s handsome face smiling at him like they were old friends.
Brad looked the same. Dark hair perfectly styled, strong jaw, green eyes that had once made Danny’s stomach flutter. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt, casual and put-together, like he’d just stopped by for coffee instead of holding Danny’s family hostage.
“Hey, babe.” Brad’s voice was warm, affectionate. The same tone he’d used when things were good between them. “Missed you.”
Danny couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. His body had become stone, every muscle frozen in place.
“You look good,” Brad continued, his voice warm and conversational. The gun never wavered. “Hate the hair. Very punk rock.”
Laura made a desperate sound behind the tape. His mom’s eyes were wide with terror.
“What the fuck’re you doing here?” The words flew from him in a rage. This was Danny’s family. He and his mom might not get along all the time, but she was still his mother. And Laura was the sweetest person who didn’t deserve to know monsters existed, let alone be touched by one.
“We had something good, Danny.” Brad’s smile widened. “You and me. We were perfect together.”
“Perfect?” Danny’s laugh was jagged and uneven, like something had finally been set free. “You tried to kill me, you son of a bitch!”
“Look at you. Still so pathetic. You never did know how to listen.” Brad gestured with the gun like it was an extension of his hand. “I’ll admit. Things got out of control that night. Got a bit of a temper problem. But we can fix this. We can go back to how things were.”
Disbelief crashed over Danny. Brad actually believed this. He actually thought they could just pick up where they’d left off, like the scars on Danny’s back were some minor disagreement.
“Get up,” Brad ordered, motioning to his mom and Laura. “All of you. Living room. Now.”
Isaac stepped forward slightly, putting himself between Danny and the gun. “How about you put that down and we talk about this like adults?”
“How about you shut your mouth before I put a bullet in it?” Brad’s expression never changed. Still smiling. Still pleasant. Like he was discussing the weather.
Laura and his mom struggled to their feet, movements awkward with their hands bound. Brad gestured toward the door with the gun.
“Move. You two. Living room. Now.”
Isaac moved first, hands raised, backing toward the door. Danny’s legs finally unlocked, carrying him backward on autopilot. His mom and Laura stayed, following Brad’s directions because what choice did they have?
“You’re a fucking coward,” Isaac spat as they descended the stairs. “You know that, right? Completely spineless.”
“Isaac,” Danny hissed. “Don’t.”
But Isaac’s features had darkened into something Danny had never seen before. Rage, pure and focused. “You ever kill someone, Brad?” The words rolled out, low and smooth, his tone mocking. “Come on, Brad. Just you and me.”
“Isaac, please.” Danny’s voice cracked. “Don’t do this.”
Brad’s jaw tightened. For the first time, his pleasant mask slipped, revealing the monster underneath. “You want to be a hero? Fine. Let’s see how that works out for you.”
Everything sped up and slowed down at once.
Brad grabbed Danny’s arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He started pulling him toward the side door. Isaac lunged forward, fist already swinging.
The punch connected with Brad’s jaw in a satisfying crack. Brad stumbled backward, surprise flashing across his face.
“I’ve wanted to do that since finding Danny on the floor bleeding!” Isaac snarled.
For one perfect moment, Danny thought maybe they’d actually get out of this.
Who knew someone so small could pack such a punch?
Danny was honestly impressed. And terrified.
He thought he knew everything there was to know about Isaac, but something told Danny there was a ton of things, scary things, his best friend kept hidden.
“Danny isn’t going anywhere with you,” Isaac said to Brad, planting his feet. Danny could see over the guy’s head. Saw when Brad raised the gun, something cold flickering in his eyes.
“No!” Danny screamed.
The gunshot was deafening in the small living room. Louder than anything Danny had ever heard. Louder than thought or breath or heartbeat.
Isaac stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. Red bloomed across his shirt, spreading outward in a widening stain.
“No!” Danny’s scream tore out of him, raw and broken. “No, no, no!” He rushed forward as Isaac crumpled. Caught him before he hit the floor then lowered him down as gently as he could with shaking hands.
Blood. So much blood. It soaked through Isaac’s shirt, spreading fast, and Danny couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but stare. Isaac’s eyes were unfocused, his breathing shallow and rapid.
“Look what you made me do.” Brad sounded annoyed, like Danny had inconvenienced him. “This is your fault, Danny. You made me do this.”