A red tainted Silence (85 page)

I felt my face heat at that. Jenn caught my gaze and smiled in understanding. She took Brandy from me, then left me and Nicholas alone.

He continued to frown at his schedule. He started to make notes, shaking his head, then nodded, singing beneath his breath. I turned on my side on the couch and watched him, enjoying the simple pleasure of seeing my lover fuss over something I knew he was excited about, ecstatic about, really, so his fusses were just a bunch of noise. He could hardly wait to go, though he hadn’t told me in so many words.

But I know Nicholas. And I understood. It was time to get on with our lives and begin living for the future, doing that which made us happy. For Nicholas, it was performing. His sales for the new album were amazing, the drama that had been our lives these past months doing much to assist it in its rocketing climb up the charts. That and the fact it was brilliant.

Absolutely brilliant.

The concert tour was sold out. It was a smaller, shorter run than he’d done in the past, but that was necessary. His fans, fortunately, understood. He and I had both become regulars on the bulletin boards, freaking out his fans by our new openness. We’d kept them apprised of our progress, and our plans. Without doubt, Nicholas has the most loyal fans I’d ever seen.

“Our fans,” he’d insisted when I mentioned my amazement to him one day.

But he knew, and I knew, that he would go on as he had been, his career as a solo artist firmly established at last. I would not be returning to the stage. To writing with him, yes, absolutely, but not to the stage. I couldn’t.

He understood.

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He was still recovering himself, though he’d regained much of the strength he’d lost and had feared he’d never get back. I, on the other hand, was having a slower time of it.

Physically, I was still weak, and would likely be for a few weeks yet. We both understood that, but the limitations my body imposed on me made me frustrated, especially since his schedule would keep him from me for the next four weeks.

I watched Nicholas now, my eyes half-hooded, willing my body to respond as it used to, before I nearly died. Nicholas had been incredibly patient, more than understanding that I’d been unable to make love to him.

When I got home from the hospital, we’d taken to going to bed early each night, lying naked in each other’s arms and talking for hours before we finally got so tired we’d fall asleep. We talked about all sorts of things -- everything from what I’d written for him and never finished, to what happened to me, to us.

We talked about other things, too, turning bad memories to rest, replacing them with the resurrected good. I’d pleasured him often, holding him as I brought him to climax, unable to will my body to want to do the same.

“It’ll take time, Brandon,” he’d tell me. “We have all the time in the world.” Time to put my demons to rest, so I, too, could get on with living. But I was beginning to wonder if Adam would have the last laugh on me -- robbing me of what I wanted most.

To make love to Nicholas, as we were meant to love.

I closed my eyes as the memories smacked me in the brain again. In a way, I was getting used to it, the sudden rush of horror, the sensation that I was back there again. That Adam was standing there watching me get raped, again. Yes, I remember it all now.

Fortunately Nicholas had been with me when my memories returned. If he hadn’t been, I’m not sure I would be here to talk about it. It still seems surreal, like it happened to someone else, though I knew that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was, my brother hated me so much, for what I achieved before his eyes --

that which he’d wanted for himself -- that he’d hurt me where he could do the most damage.

And he’d done a brilliant job of it. Nearly succeeded in his quest to drive me into the ground.

But he hadn’t succeeded. Because of Nicholas.

Nicholas.

My beloved, Nicholas.

“Hey, you,” I heard him say.

I opened my eyes. I smiled at him, not wanting him to know where my thoughts had turned. But Nicholas being Nicholas, he knew. “Hey.”

“You thinking about him again?” He smiled tenderly at me, then came over, sat next to me on the floor. He took my hand and kissed it. I held tight and nodded.

“Yeah,” I said.

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He stroked my face with his free hand. “Anything new?”

“No.” I blinked, then reached out and cradled his face with my hand. He closed his eyes, leaning into my caress. He kissed my fingers, then took one in his mouth, sucked gently on it. Seeing him do that, feeling the hot wetness of his mouth, made me want him never to stop.

Then I felt it. For the first time in weeks, I felt a wave of heat come over me. Flood my groin. His eyes shot open when he heard my breath quicken as he suckled my finger. With a soft smile, his eyes lighting up with hope, he released my finger, leaned over me, and gently kissed me. And this time, a moan escaped me as I opened myself to him. He got to his knees, moving slowly, so afraid to scare me -- I love you so much, Nick -- and kissed me again, his lips warm, soft, hopeful. My tongue met his. He captured it, sucking on it as he had my finger.

I groaned again, grabbed his hand, and pushed it down to my arousal. He pulled back, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “Brandon?”

I nodded. “Help me,” I said.

He got up, helped me to my feet. Led me by the hand to our bedroom, leaving the door open because he knew I could no longer bear a door closed behind me -- he might be there, even though I knew it was impossible, I wasn’t trapped, he was dead, they both were, my brother and Seth, I wasn’t being forced ...

“Brandon,” he said.

I blinked, looked down at him. Forced the terror from my mind. We were by the bed. I smiled shyly at him, and he grinned, reached up, and kissed me. Then, with such gentleness as to make me smile, Nicholas undid my robe, pushed it from my shoulders, helped me get my shirt and my boxers off.

“What if Jenn comes --”

He smiled. “She won’t. She’ll know what we’re up to when I start moaning.”

“Who said I was going to make you moan?”

“Oh, you will, Brandon. You will.”

I grinned at that and said, “Take off your clothes and let’s get to it, then.” His eyes widened, and he obeyed. Quickly. Then we got into bed, hiding under the covers, just in case. Though I expected he was right -- Jenn wouldn’t interrupt us.

It wasn’t easy. I didn’t have the strength to take Nicholas like I wanted, but he helped me. Lying behind him, inside him, my arms wrapped around him as I slowly, gently, lovingly fucked him while he encouraged me, brought us both to climax, my body shuddering against his as I finally released myself into him -- those moments were sheer heaven. Afterwards, I couldn’t move, didn’t want to move, and we lay together like that for the longest time, basking in the simple afterglow of reuniting our bodies, our hearts.

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When we came out of the bedroom much later, both in our bathrobes, Jenn did have dinner, with champagne, ready for us. “To celebrate!” she exclaimed, embarrassing me, making Nicholas laugh with delight.

I love Jenn. So much, so very, very much.

Jenn, Rex, and Brandy were the only ones still left in Colorado with us. Everyone else had gone home. Mutt and Jeff had (reluctantly) returned to their lives, though we’d asked Mutt if he and his lover, Greg, would travel with Nicholas. They’d both agreed, Mutt as Nick’s bodyguard, and Greg as Nick’s private chef. Jeff had no wish to relocate, but would forevermore watch out for me as long as and whenever I was in Durango. Which, for now, would be a bit -- I didn’t want to leave. Couldn’t. I was seeing my psychiatrist every day, sometimes twice a day. I had a lot to deal with and needed to be here. I just couldn’t leave, not yet. Not yet.

But I could let Nicholas go. I had the strength now to do that -- to know, even as I kissed him goodbye the next morning, that even though our bodies sometimes had to be apart, our hearts never would be again.

Never again.

* * * * *

It was some months later, when we were in Spain for the first of Nick’s shows there, that I picked up my computer and found the file I’d started nearly a year before and never finished. As I sat on the bed in our hotel room, Nicholas singing in the shower a few hours before that night’s performance, I began to read, shaking my head at the lost, lonely man I’d been then.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him -- the wild shock of black hair, the beautiful blue eyes, the full lips with that perfected pout. Such a diva, even from the beginning. I was entranced, smitten, mesmerized. He had the face of an angel, and the voice of one, too. And almost from the start, I began the pattern of losing Nicholas. I was good at that. I guess I never believed I really deserved him, what he would bring to us both. What we would experience because of him. What we could be because of him. What I could be because of the strength and belief he had in me.

I smiled as the memories flooded me. No longer did the past control my life, though I realized that it still had the tiniest hold on me. It was time to let completely go.

I scrolled to the end of the file and added a few lines. Once I was done, I closed my computer, set it aside, and joined my lover in the shower.

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But in the end, I didn’t lose Nicholas. In the end, I knew I deserved him. I believed in the love that he brought to my life, and believed in the love he held for me.

I love you, Nicholas.

~Brandon

Carolyn Gray

Carolyn Gray lives with her two teenagers in Fort Worth, Texas. If not working for her employer -- an engineering firm -- writing, or spending time with her family and friends, she can be found happily planning her next trip to anywhere she's never been before.