A red tainted Silence

A RED-TAINTED SILENCE

Carolyn Gray

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A Red-Tainted Silence

Carolyn Gray

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by

Loose Id LLC

1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

Carson City NV 89701-1215

www.loose-id.com

Copyright © October 2006 by Carolyn Gray

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-340-7

Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Raven McKnight

Cover Artist: Croco Designs

This book is dedicated with much love and affection to Linda G emillion, without r

whom it would never have existed. Thank you for your friendship and encouragement in bringing my boys to life. You rock!

Durango, Colorado -- Present Day

“Brandon? Hey, what’s wrong?”

The soft voice startled me from the torture I’d been inflicting on myself all morning. I clicked off the video I now had completely memorized and closed my laptop. I glanced at the still, white-cloaked figure lying in the hospital bed across the room from my chair, putting on my game face, but it was too late. Though a thick layer of blankets all but hid Nicholas from my eyes, I realized he had been watching me for some time.

It was cold in the room. Outside, the La Plata mountains loomed, and snow had fallen heavily the night before, coating everything I could see through the window. I swear I’d never been around so much snow in my life, nor had I ever been so damned cold. It’d crept deep inside me and taken up what I feared would be permanent residence.

“Nothing’s wrong, Nick. Why do you ask?”

“You look upset.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and the sudden stab of pain that movement caused in my back. Never thought stitches could hurt so much more than a broken leg, but then, I’d never had thirty stitches before, had my back sliced open before. Not that it mattered.

What I had suffered was nothing compared to what Nicholas had endured.

“You should go back to sleep,” I told him.

“I feel like I’ve been asleep for a week.”

“You have been, almost.”

“Then why do I still feel so tired? Come talk to me, Brandon.” 2 Carolyn Gray

Forcing a smile, I set my laptop on the flower-laden tray next to me. I’d also never seen so many flowers in my life. Diehard fans of our band, Dream, along with our friends, family, fellow musicians -- so many plants, gifts, and flowers had been delivered since Nick’s rescue became public, he’d insisted on sharing them with the other hospital inmates.

The teddy bears and other stuffed animals had gone to the children’s wing -- except for the koala bear tucked beneath Nick’s covers. That bear, he’d insisted on keeping. He’d fallen in love with Australia when we’d visited there, and I guess it reminded him of happier times.

My own room was noticeably empty, but no one except for Nick’s manager, Marisa; my brother Adam; and my cousin knew I was here, too -- at least not yet. The press conference scheduled for Friday would take care of that.

I grabbed my crutches and hobbled pretty roughly over to the bed. I still hadn’t mastered the blasted things. “It’s to be expected, the doc said. Feeling so tired. Remember?” A soft smile ghosted over Nick’s face before fading, making my heart seize. Even that much effort taxed him. “Sort of. There’s a lot I don’t remember.” And I was grateful for that. “Don’t push it, Nick. It’ll take a while.” I adjusted the blankets beneath his chin, waiting in vain for that dazzling smile to brighten his face at my fussing. I missed that smile so badly.

“I thought I heard music,” he finally said when I pulled away.

I flinched. He’d heard music, all right -- his music. Not ours. “Did I wake you?”

“No. You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice small, lost beneath the pain. He sounded like a child, not the thirty-one-year-old man he was. His gaze searched mine, seeking reassurance. I knew he needed me to be the strong one now, for both of us. I’d never been good at being the strong one, despite his belief to the contrary, but I could fake it. I was a master at that.

I glanced at the IV drip running into his arm. He’d been awake for a while, long enough to feel every scratch, tear, and stitch. Of those, he had quite a few more than me. I thought about calling the nurse, but if I did, she’d make me go to my own room. She liked doing that.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” I said.

“I’ll always worry about you.”

Just like Nicholas. Worried over me when he was the one half dead.

“I’m okay, Nick. I wouldn’t kid you.”

Disbelief clouded Nick’s face, and his wide blue eyes -- eyes I had thought I’d never look into again -- showed he knew I was lying, but he’d go along with it anyway. For now. I cleared my throat against the sudden tightness, the clenching in my chest.

God, how I wanted him to laugh again.

“What were you looking at?” he asked.

A Red-Tainted Silence

3

I glanced at the laptop. Forced the false smile back on my face. “Just a video some fan made. It’s nothing.”

Nicholas closed his eyes and nodded, then winced against the pain, hurting too much to push me. Taking my crutches from beneath my arms, I eased onto the edge of the bed, watching his face as I did so, but his expression didn’t change for the worse. I exhaled in relief and reached for the Demerol button, then pressed it into his hand.

He curled his fingers around mine. “Don’t want to use it.”

“That’s why it’s there, Nicholas.”

“I don’t do drugs.”

I chuckled softly and pressed the button for him. “Exception time.” With my other hand, I brushed a damp lock from his forehead, feeling the upsweep of fear that’d become so familiar to me over the last few weeks since Nicholas, after flying halfway across the country to demand a place in my life again, had been kidnapped on his way home from the airport.

But I fought the fear down. Now, I could. Nicholas was going to be okay. Eventually.

I hoped we would be, too.

As the meds hit, his pain-creased forehead eased, and he drifted back to sleep. I brushed his hair back again, wanting so badly to kiss his pain away. But I didn’t dare kiss him; there was nowhere I could without fear of hurting him. If he’d even welcome it -- it’d been a long time since we’d been nice to each other.

I planned to change that. Though what had happened to him had brought us together again, for now, I knew it wasn’t enough to keep us from going our separate ways again once we left Colorado. I’d hurt him too much the one place where he was most vulnerable -- his heart. I had no idea if he’d forgiven me for that, or if he ever would.

I thought of the video again, made of clips from interviews, concerts, different events we’d attended together, and wanted to scream over what I’d lost because I hadn’t seen --

couldn’t see -- how beautiful Nicholas and I were together. Not just as musical partners, but as partners in life, as well. It’d taken a stranger, someone I’d never met, to capture all those moments on tape and open my eyes.

Such a dickhead.

I watched him sleep. Pale as a ghost, white as a sheet -- that was Nicholas. It worried me, the lack of color beneath the bruises, the dark smudges under his eyes. At least the bruises were fading a little. He’d lost a lot of blood, the doctors had said, and lack of food for several weeks had left him gaunt. But he was still beautiful to me. I knew he’d hate the scar on his cheek, but it was a small thing to deal with compared to the alternative.

He should’ve been dead.

I sighed, stroking his fingers with my thumb. I couldn’t sit here for long -- I couldn’t sit anywhere for long. Already my leg throbbed in protest; I was supposed to keep it elevated. I knew the nurse would come any minute and force me back to my room, but it wouldn’t do 4 Carolyn Gray

any good -- I’d just sneak back here. I’d rather be where I could keep an eye on Nicholas.

The detective assigned to his case said he was safe now, but something kept me from believing.

Even though I knew it was true because I’d killed the bastard who’d hurt Nicholas.

I couldn’t sleep anyway. Every time I closed my eyes, the panicky feeling would tumble back. Too late. I was too late to stop what’d been done to my Nicholas. I lifted his fingers to my lips -- his hand was so cold -- and kissed the very tips, practically the only place not hurt on his entire body. I tucked his arm back under the covers, rearranging the koala bear.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” I whispered, this time meaning it. I’d told him that how many times over the years? And broken that promise every time. But this time ...

this time ...

Surprising even myself, I then dared to brush my lips across his as gently as I could. He gave no sign he felt anything. Wild longing shocked through me. I wanted to lose myself in him, crawl inside him and hold him tight, but I couldn’t. Dammit, I couldn’t.

I hobbled back to the chair. After trying for about five minutes to get comfortable, I gave up and pulled the covers back over me. I picked up my laptop and paused. My fingers hovered over the keys, but I didn’t let myself watch the video again.

Instead, I found myself searching my documents folder for a file I’d started the night before. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing was a good idea, but desperation to breach the gap I’d created between us had me figuring what the hell.

Maybe for once words would work -- written ones, since I was so lousy at articulating my deepest thoughts, at least when it really mattered. I’d tried to tell him how I felt through my music. Tried to show him, without the words that fell so easily from his mind and from his heart, how I loved him. But it hadn’t been enough. I knew and accepted that now.

But maybe this way I could reach him. Let him know I loved him and always had.

Why had I found it so impossible to say those three words? I love you. So simple. So easy.

But I’d rarely told him, not with words, and words were what Nicholas understood the best.