A red tainted Silence (20 page)

“Brandon!”

I heard his voice and felt his arms around me -- Nicholas, I’d hit Nicholas -- trying in vain to soothe me. His efforts were of no use. The pain wouldn’t stop. It pounded through my head, relentless, pounding pounding pounding ...

“Oh, God, you’re bleeding. Hold on.”

A Red-Tainted Silence

113

Dizziness clouded my vision as I tried to pull myself up, still clutching the back of my head. He turned on the light.

“No!” I cried, gasping as the light penetrated and amplified the pain thrumming behind my eyes. He turned it off.

“I’m sorry. Hold on.”

I collapsed over the bed, a sob rising from deep inside me. I felt hot stickiness under my fingers and then gentle hands tugging on me, pulling me onto the bed.

“Shh, Brandon, it’s okay,” Nicholas whispered. I screwed my eyes tight as I felt a towel pressed to my head. The pain reached its frenzy point, pummeling at me. Another sob escaped me and I curled up, completely freaked by the pain. I’d never ever felt such agony, and it’d been so stupid, what I’d done. Falling out of bed.

Nicholas pulled me close and rubbed my arm and back, rocking me like I was a child, whispering soothingly into my ear. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, pressing against him as hot tears coursed down my face. My nakedness added to my shame.

“It’s okay, Brandon. The worst is over. It’s going away. The pain is going away. You’ll be okay now. I promise. I promise.”

I clutched at him, curled up as tight as I could in his arms, my breath catching as, finally, the pain started to ebb. But the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down my face. It hurt.

“There you go. Shhh, Brandon, it’s okay. I have you now.” My breath hitched as I sank down and buried my face in his comforting warmth. I was hurting too much at first to realize it was his thigh that I clutched, his lap where I now buried my face. He continued to stroke my back as I slowly felt the tightness in my chest ease, my bunched-up muscles relax, and the pounding lessen.

After a little while he said, “Can you hold on, Brandon? You need some ice on this.” I didn’t want him to go, but I nodded. A mistake, as the pain flared again. “Okay,” I whispered.

“Good boy.”

I shifted on the bed as he got up. He placed my hand on the towel to hold it to my head and left, bolting from my room. Embarrassment of another sort now took hold -- I couldn’t believe I’d freaked out. I’d hit him. I’d hit him. I covered my face with my free hand as I lay curled up on my side. How my parents hadn’t heard me cry out, I didn’t know.

I pulled the towel from my head and looked at it in a shaft of moonlight. It wasn’t soaked with blood, thank God, but I knew I had to have a hell of a cut on my head.

Nicholas returned, a glass of water in one hand, a bag of ice in the other, and a bottle of pain killers under his arm. He set the glass and the bag down and opened up the bottle, shaking several out.

114

Carolyn Gray

“Here, take this,” he said. I lifted up from the bed, and the dizziness whomped me from behind. I groaned, collapsing again.

“I can’t,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll just set them here for you, okay? You can take them when you’re ready.” He moved away from the bed.

“Don’t leave me, Nicholas,” I said.

He chuckled softly. “I’m not, babe. Can you scoot over?” I did as he asked, though it sent new cartwheels of pain through my head. He arranged the pillows so he could lean against them, pausing when he fluffed the one without a case, then fixed the covers before climbing in. “Okay, come here.”

“But what about your bruises --”

“I’m fine. Barely feel them anymore. Don’t worry about me.” I didn’t believe him, but I let him pull me to him. My earlier shame seemed ridiculous to me now in the face of his tenderness. I laid my head on his stomach as he indicated I should, and he pulled the covers over us both. I closed my eyes, drinking in his warmth, the gentle rise and fall as he breathed, the smell of freshly soaped skin, the feel of his arm across my bare back. He had on boxers and a t-shirt -- one of mine.

“That’s my shirt,” I whispered, smiling at the feel of him laughing beneath my cheek.

“You said I could use whatever of yours I wanted. Except your toothbrush. Here comes the ice.”

I hissed as he laid it on my head, and he jerked it away.

“Too cold? Hold on. Sit up a little.” I did as he asked, guarding myself against sudden movement. He pulled the t-shirt off, then gently soothed me back into place. Now my hot face rested against his cool bare skin. I laid my hand on his stomach, tickling the hairs around his bellybutton. “Hey, that’s not fair. I can’t retaliate while you’re injured.”

“Sorry,” I said, wincing as he placed the ice, now wrapped in my t-shirt, back on my head. “I’m sorry I hit you, too.”

“I’m fine. I’m the one who should be sorry. Are you always so violent when you wake up?”

“No. I guess I was having a bad dream.”

He stroked the hair from my face and brushed away the last of my tears. I couldn’t believe I’d cried so hard. I don’t ever remember crying that hard, not even when I was little and fell off my skateboard and broke my arm.

“You weren’t dreaming about last night, were you?” he asked softly.

I shuddered. “I don’t know. Maybe I was. I don’t remember.” He ran his hand up and down my arm, and I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes. I wiped them away. “I’m sorry,” I said.

A Red-Tainted Silence

115

“For what?”

“Sobbing like a baby.”

His fingers tickled my cheek, played with my ear. “Hey, it’s not like I haven’t cried in your arms already. Now we’re even.”

I took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Brandon,” he admonished. “You about busted your head open. For the second time in just over a week. It’s no shame to cry. No one will know about it except you and me. By the way, have I thanked you for that?” he asked.

I moved my head so I could see his face in the gentle light from the window. “For what?”

“For being there for me. For coming after me. If you hadn’t, I don’t know what --” His voice hitched then, and I felt a tremble run through him. “He had someone I didn’t know with him this time. He never did before, Brandon. I think -- I think he was going to rape me, too.”

“Nicholas,” I whispered. “It didn’t happen. Don’t think about it.”

“I try not to, but I can’t stop it. It won’t get out of my head. I can’t wash it away.” Then I understood why all the showers. I kissed his stomach, dislodging my ice pack. I reached up and pulled the ice away, dropping it on the floor. I brushed my lips across his soft skin and smiled as he hissed and then held his breath.

My head’s pounding had dulled, though it wasn’t gone. Propping myself up on my elbow, I reached for the painkillers, popped them into my mouth, and then took a drink.

After setting the glass down, I looked at Nicholas. I wished I could see his face more clearly than the moonlight allowed, but it was enough. I trailed my fingers down his smooth cheek, smiling -- he’d shaved again, too. I could feel rather than see his mouth curve into a smile.

“You’re with me now, Nick. They can’t hurt you here.”

“I know. I was so glad you let me come back here tonight.”

“Let you? I wanted you to.”

“I -- I know. Thank you.”

I realized then just how scared he still was about what had happened. I was scared, too.

“They didn’t come by the store or anything, did they?”

“No. Percy did once, a long time ago, and Charlie told him if he ever set foot in the store again, he’d call the police.”

“I should’ve come with you. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I was okay. I’m fine now. Lie down, Brandon.”

I did as he told me to, tucking my head -- carefully -- into the crook of his shoulder. He was shorter than me, but broader in the chest, and soft. It was quite comfortable. I inched closer to him, close but not quite touching him along the full length of his body.

116

Carolyn Gray

I wished he didn’t have boxers on.

I splayed my hand across his bare chest, and he covered it with his own. “Maybe I should go back to the guest room now,” he said.

“Why?”

“If your dad catches me in here, there’ll be hell to pay,” he said.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

His chest vibrated. “Yes, sir.”

“That was easy.”

“Who am I to argue with a naked man?”

I closed my eyes and smiled. “Smart boy.”

“You always sleep in the nude?”

“Yes,” I said, then yawned. I winced. “Ouch, that hurt.”

“Better now, though?”

“Yeah.” Exhaustion pulled at me, and I felt myself relaxing at last to the feel of him stroking my arm. His fingers trailed down my side, then slipped underneath the covers to my backside. This time I jerked under his light touch. “Hey, that’s not fair.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just startled me. Uh, Nicholas?”

His hand stilled. “Yes?

“What you said earlier ...”

His hand rested on my hipbone, sending ripples of warmth to my groin and making my chest constrict. “About what?”

“About --” Oh, God. I buried my face in his chest as his fingers started to play with the crease between my groin and thigh. “Not playing fair, Nicholas,” I mumbled.

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

“About what, then?” he said, his fingers dipping precariously lower. “What do you want to know?”

I moved my leg back, which served to allow the tantalizing strokes to go where I wanted them so badly to go. I swallowed, a shudder running through me. I couldn’t believe I’d done that. I cleared my throat, tried to focus. Which was hard, given the heat of his hand so close ... “Uh, what you said, when you saw me. At the audition. Why? I mean --”

“Why do I want you?”

My breath caught in my throat at the ease with which he picked up on my muddled train of thought. I nearly forgot to breathe as one finger -- accidentally? -- brushed against my growing erection.

A Red-Tainted Silence

117

He tucked his hand between my thighs. I lifted my leg a little to allow him better access. His touch was slowly but surely chasing away the pain in my head, replacing it with desire. Teasingly, tantalizingly, he stroked and explored; he was surely going to drive me wild. I moaned into his chest.

“Sweet Brandon,” he whispered so softly I barely heard him.

I realized then where this was headed. Exactly where my dad had warned us not to go while under his roof, and I found that I just didn’t give a damn. It terrified me, taking this step already, but I didn’t want to stop.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I ground out. “What was it that you saw?”

“I’ll tell you.”

He released me then, making me mourn the loss of contact. But he wasn’t pulling away. Instead he pushed me gently onto my back, pulling his arm from under me until he’d folded himself over my body. His arousal, still cloaked by his boxers, pushed into me. I gasped, bucking my hips involuntarily as he continued his tactile exploration of my body.

Now I could see his face clearly in the moonlight, see the barefaced need illuminated in his eyes. He smiled, his eyes half-closed as he watched me react to his touch. “I love how you do that, Brandon,” he said, his voice low with wonder.

“Do what?”

I arched back as his fingers brushed along the length of my shaft. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. He’d touched me, there. The reality of Nicholas touching me was much, much better than anything my naïve imagination had ever dreamed up. I sank my fingers into the bedcovers, pulling my legs up in response. I couldn’t help myself.

His hand stilled, covering me. “The way you react, so open to me. You don’t try to hide what you’re feeling.”

I opened my eyes and turned my head to him. “Not when I’m alone with you,” I said, breathless.

His mouth descended on mine, kissing me tenderly as he wrapped his hand around me.

Then he pulled away, making me moan. He scrunched his eyebrows together as if in deep thought. I was dying, but I wanted to know what he was thinking.

“What did I see?” he said, getting back to the earlier question. I couldn’t believe the control he had. “I don’t know if I can explain it. All I know is when I walked into that audition, I felt like I was pulled toward you. The moment I saw you, even before you saw me, I knew --” He closed his eyes, catching his lip between his teeth. Then he smiled down at me. “I knew you were going to change my life. And then, when you turned and saw me, and fainted ...” He dropped his face to my chest and kissed it, licking my nipple. I gasped, again.

“Do that to me sometime, okay? I promise you’ll be amazed.” 118

Carolyn Gray

“Okay,” I said, willing to agree to anything at that point even though I didn’t understand then what he meant, exactly.

I did later, though.

He continued on with his line of thought. “I couldn’t believe you fainted. Then when you came to and looked up at me, I don’t know. The way you looked at me -- it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

“I’m not beautiful. I’m scrawny.”

He tapped my ribs. “Now who’s freaking out about his body? I like you just the way you are. You overwhelmed me then, you know, and then I went and messed up my audition --”

“You were fantastic.”

“Says you. Says nobody else.”

“Stephen thought you were good.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well, it was agony to walk away from there. Away from you. I knew I’d screwed up, but I hoped ...” He shrugged. “But I didn’t hear anything. I convinced myself what I’d seen in your eyes was an illusion.”

“It wasn’t. When I saw you, I --” I stopped, frustrated by my inability to get out what I meant. “I don’t know what happened, exactly. I’d given up hope of seeing you again. It just came as a shock to see you there.”

“I made that much of an impression on you? How old were you, sixteen? When you saw me the first time?”

“No, seventeen. But I knew I wanted you even then,” I said softly. I reached up and touched his face, grazing my thumb over his lips. I startled in surprise as I felt a tear trickle down his face. “Nicholas,” I whispered. I hated myself then, so bad at words. Not like him. I didn’t know what to say.