A red tainted Silence (38 page)

“Now I’ve branded you, Brandon.”

I stared wild-eyed at him, and he laughed.

“That’s right, Brandon. Brandon Ashwood. That’s why I came tonight, to find out who the fuck you were. You little bastard.” He bent close to me again; his eyes were filled with anger, but it was calculating, cruel. Fear lanced through me, and he grinned, seeing it reflected in my eyes.

“You put Percy in the hospital, you know that? The police are very interested in knowing what happened to him. And I, of course, told them. Some little dick-tease Percy had fucked attacked him with a board, leaving him for dead. He -- you -- left something else, too.”

He leered at me. Using his knees, he pinned my arms down and cradled my face with his hands. His breath was hot and fetid as it brushed against my face. I still fought for breath, but coughed, not wanting to breathe in with him in my face. Tears filled my eyes as I choked. I drew my legs up against the pain he caused as he pushed down on my chest.

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“You left your t-shirt, remember?” I stared at him in horror, remembering. He grinned.

“Yes, you do remember, don’t you? Now that t-shirt is evidence. All it would take is little ol’

me handing over your name, having those forensic guys tie that shirt to you. And they would, you know. All it would take is a stray hair, a stray thread -- and wham!” He kissed me again, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I choked against the invasion, tears of humiliation and fear cascading down the side of my face.

The t-shirt. Oh, my God --

“Brandon, where are you?”

Nicholas!

I bucked against my captor, and he pulled back with a soft laugh. “Of course, I could say it’s Nick’s.”

I stilled then, panic making my heart trip-hammer in my chest.

“No. No, please ...”

He sat up and grinned, patting me on the cheek. I winced -- it hurt. “Good boy. You said the magic words.” He stood, then hauled me to my feet and pulled me against him, his arm in a chokehold, taking care to keep in the shadows so no one could see us.

“Look out there, Brandon.”

My legs were like jelly, my head whirling, but I looked. And saw Nicholas.

He stood in Karen’s grandfather’s front yard, talking with two other people. He was gesturing; it was clear he was upset. What was he thinking, that I’d skipped out on him? I struggled again, but it was useless; my captor had a firm grip. He damn well knew what he was doing.

“He’s your lover, isn’t he?” When I didn’t respond, he reached down and grabbed my crotch. “You’ve fucked him, haven’t you?”

I nodded -- it was all I could do.

“Good boy.”

He released the pressure on my groin, but didn’t let go of me. “He’s quite beautiful, isn’t he? Percy always thought so. Beautiful, but not my type.” He kissed my neck. He towered over me, outweighed me by a good thirty pounds, I figured. I’d had the advantage of surprise over him before -- now he had it over me. I was helpless, pressed as I was against his chest.

“You’re more to my liking, Brandon. Know that? Tell me, what would you be willing to do, I wonder, to keep me from telling the cops that t-shirt is yours? Or, better yet, is Nick’s?” He laughed in my ear. The stench of him made me nauseous; the heat of his body against mine made me gag. “I’m a fair man, Brandon Ashwood. I’m gonna give you time to think about it. Think about what you’d be willing to do to keep your lover boy safe.” 220

Carolyn Gray

He released me then. I dropped onto the ground, hitting my cheek against the asphalt.

He knelt beside me and brushed my hair back from my face. “Think about it. I’ll find you, and then we can discuss our little arrangement. I’m sure we can come up with something satisfactory ...” He stroked my groin, making me flinch. “... to us both. Nicholas will never have to know. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To keep your boyfriend safe? Nod your head, Brandon.” I did so, hating myself, terrified to do anything else.

“Good boy. Tell you what, you’re gonna give me about five minutes to disappear. If you don’t, I may change my mind and forget our deal. It might be fun to finish with Nicholas what you stopped the other night.”

And then he was gone.

I lay still as he told me to. Couldn’t do anything but. I could see them, the people at the party -- Nick’s friends -- beyond the underbelly of the car. Finally I pulled myself up, tried to stand -- and fell against the car as everything around me started to whirl. I heard rather than saw someone running toward me, and I collapsed, crying out as someone caught me.

I fought against them as terror tightened its grip.

“Brandon, Brandon, stop it. It’s me, Richie. Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! What happened to you?” He pulled me to him. “Over here! I found him!” More footsteps running toward us. I clutched Richie’s shirt, and he wrapped me in his arms, rocking me.

“Oh, shit, what happened to him?”

“Was he mugged?”

“Brandon!” Nicholas. “Oh, God, Brandon, what happened? Babe, it’s me.” I tried to say something, tell him I was okay, but fear stilled me. What if he was still around? Watching?

“We need to get him inside, Nicholas.”

I lay limp as strong arms slid under my legs and shoulders. I felt myself hefted up.

“Easy, Chad.”

“I’ve got him.”

“Brandon --”

“Let me get him inside, Nicholas.”

Chad. That bastard carrying me like I was a child. What the fuck was he doing here?

Humiliation cascaded over me as we moved up the steps and inside.

“This way, put him in here.” Karen.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Hart’s voice. “Oh, my, what happened to the boy?”

“He was mugged, I think,” Richie said.

“I found his wallet. It’s empty.”

Nicholas ...

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Chad laid me down on the bed, and I winced. The blackness was starting to clear, my breath easing as I lay flat on the soft bed. Gentle hands examined my face. It burned, scraped from the ring and from falling onto the ground and from being slapped over and over again.

“Get everyone out, Karen. Richie, get some ice for his face.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m staying,” Nicholas said.

“Of course you are, son. Help me get his shirt off.” I opened my eyes, gasping as my shirt was taken off. “Nicholas --” He grabbed my hand -- he’d climbed onto the bed next to me. “I’m right here. Did you see who attacked you?”

I didn’t hesitate. “No. No. He took my money.”

Tears shimmered in Nick’s eyes. He kissed my hand and brought it to his cheek. “It doesn’t matter. Just be okay.”

Dr. Hart gently examined my ribs. I breathed in sharply. He glanced at me. “Hurt?” I nodded, clenching Nick’s hand, hard. “Yes.” I laid my other hand across my eyes, trying to block out the image of my attacker, and his words.

Think about what you’d be willing to do to keep your lover boy safe.

“Nicholas,” I said. “Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t go outside.”

“I’m not. Don’t worry.”

“Nothing’s broken,” Dr. Hart said. “But you’re well and goodly bruised. Feeling dizzy?” I nodded. “Yes, a little.” I took a deep breath. “But it’s better already.”

“Good. Got a nice scrape on your face, a bit bruised and sore, but you’ll be okay. You boys plan on staying here tonight, all right?” I closed my eyes and nodded. There was no way I could move -- it hurt too bad to do so.

At least the room had stopped spinning, though my heart still raced.

“Thanks, Dr. Hart.”

“You’re welcome, Nicholas. I’ll check on him a little later.” Then he was gone, closing the door after him. Karen walked out of the bathroom, a bowl and washcloth in her hands. She sat on the bed and rung out the washcloth. With such gentleness that I stared at her in amazement, she wiped off my face, smiling at me as she did so. She noticed the mark on my neck then; I felt my face heat, but she ignored it.

I just prayed Nicholas would do the same, think that it was the mark he had made.

“There you go,” she said gently as she ran the washcloth down my arm, ending at my fingers. She washed my hand and laid it on my stomach, then took my other from Nicholas, wiping off the dirt that had accumulated during my struggle with my attacker.

“You want anything else?”

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I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

“Thanks, Karen,” Nicholas said, leaning over me to kiss her. “You’re the best.”

“Anything for you. You know that.”

Richie came back in. “I found an ice pack,” he said, handing Karen a towel-wrapped bag.

“Thanks,” I said.

He grimaced. “No problem, but man, I am so sorry about that. Had a hell of a night, haven’t you?”

“Thanks, Richie,” Nicholas said, the note of dismissal in his voice clear.

Richie rubbed his hands together and grinned at me. “Guess you’re in the best hands.

I’ll see you boys later. Bye, Karen.”

“Bye, Richie, and thanks.” She waited until Richie had left, and then she looked at me and touched my cheek with the back of her hand. “You guys get some sleep, okay? You sure you didn’t see anything, Brandon?”

I held her gaze with my own. “No. It happened too fast.”

“You were missing a long time.”

“I must’ve blacked out or something. Maybe.”

She grimaced at that -- I could tell she didn’t believe me. “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. I’ll leave you guys alone.” She kissed me on the cheek that wasn’t hurt. “Sleep.

I’m going to go send everyone home.”

Then she was gone, and we were alone.

Nicholas got off the bed and slowly, his back to me, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks and pants, then his shirt. He had on a white t-shirt and boxers. He turned to me, his expression thoughtful. He started to say something, then hesitated.

“What is it?” I asked.

He sat on the bed and pulled off my shoes and socks. He reached for my jeans -- I unbuttoned them myself, but winced as I tried to push them down. He knelt on the bed and pulled them off for me, folding them and putting them with his own clothes.

“Was it Percy, Brandon?”

“No. It wasn’t him, I promise.”

“You don’t know who it was?”

At that time I still didn’t know his name. “No.” He closed his eyes. I could see him trembling. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head.

“Nicholas, I’m okay. It was just forty dollars. It was nothing.”

“And you got beat up, Brandon. I don’t call that nothing.” A Red-Tainted Silence

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“No. No, of course not.” I closed my eyes. I couldn’t think, didn’t want to move. And I was getting chilly.

I heard Nicholas move away from the bed, then return. A soft blanket unfurled over my body. Nicholas crawled into the bed, snuggling against me. I lifted my arm, grateful when he curled against me -- and asked no more questions. We lay still for a long time until gradually I felt him relax, fall asleep. Sleep didn’t come so easily to me, but finally it came, pushing against the fear my encounter with Percy’s buddy had instilled in my heart.

Think about what you’d be willing to do to keep your lover boy safe.

I knew what I would do. I would do anything, anything I had to, to keep Nicholas safe.

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I yawned and tried to stretch. Damn, I was cramped. And cold. Hardly surprising -- my dear companion had once again nearly pushed me off the way-too-small bed. Saved only by the guard-rail, again. And he’d stolen almost all the covers, leaving my backside bare to the freezing room.

Damn, it was cold. And dark. I had to wonder if the heat was even on. Didn’t feel like it.

The wind blew hard against the windows, making a sad, moaning sound. Maybe another blizzard had hit and that was why Jonathan wasn’t there yet. I’d hardly looked outside all day. Snow could be up to the windows, for all I knew. Or cared. Right then all I wanted was to be warm. I inched closer to the sole source of heat in the room and tugged at the blankets, trying to no avail to cover myself.

His hand reached over me and pulled and tucked the blanket tighter around my back, but not before he took a wicked liberty and rubbed my bare backside with one warm hand.

Still half-asleep, I chuckled, nuzzling his shoulder and sinking deeper into the covers with a happy sigh.

The bed was hard, somewhat lumpy, and terribly narrow -- clearly not meant for two grown men -- but it really didn’t matter right then. Its other occupant was warm, and safe, and alive.

How beautiful, the simple things.

I could hardly wait for tomorrow, though, and our own big bed with plenty of warm covers and plenty of room for Nicholas to stretch out without knocking me onto the floor.

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He was going to love it. I planned to enjoy it as much as possible, too. Preferably romping in it with him.

Marisa had thought me a bit nuts, I supposed, when I’d demanded we have a brand-new four poster and mattress delivered to the fully furnished house we’d leased -- along with all new bed linens (which she’d promised to have laundered first) -- but I hadn’t cared what she’d thought. I was past all that nonsense with Marisa. Guess she saw that in my eyes.

When I’d seen the bed in a catalog she’d brought from Fraley’s, a local department store, I’d known it was ours, a near (but more opulent) cousin to the first bed Nicholas and I had shared so long ago. It seemed right, that bed. Our bed. I didn’t explain that to her -- it was none of her business -- just told her to get it and not tell Nicholas. She’d looked at me with a grimace, no doubt trying hard not to imagine what I planned to do with “her” Nicholas in it. But she’d done as I’d asked.

And that was that.

I sighed against Nicholas. I guessed he’d been awake for a while. He’d turned the light on to its lowest setting, and he held a magazine, though it lay unread against his chest. The light barely illuminated the room, but it was enough for me to see the wicked grin on his face.

“Hey,” I said, looking up at him.

“Hey, hey, yourself. About time you woke up.”

I stretched again, wincing a little at a small catch in my back along my scar.