A red tainted Silence (50 page)

“Thanks. That totally makes up for not getting to go to the prom.” I laughed and released her, then looped my arm around Nicholas. He cuddled next to me. The fans that could see us through the window got an eyeful when he reached up with one hand and turned my face to kiss him. And I did. Full of relief and joy that we were leaving the hospital at last, I gave him a good one.

Katie muttered, “Cameras, guys, cameras.”

Nicholas giggled. “We’re not gonna have to call you Marisa Junior now, are we, Katie?” She huffed beneath her breath, but grinned, pulling her briefcase onto her lap.

“Depends on how well you behave. I’m in charge of you now, you know.” Nicholas groaned. “Oh, my GOD! She is! She is Marisa incarnate!”

“Don’t worry, baby, she’s not nearly as bad,” I said. “She loves both of us.” Katie blushed at that, and Nicholas fell silent. I maybe shouldn’t have said that.

Mutt and Jeff got in the car, and we took off, fans screaming, cameras rolling, and away from the hospital.

Far, far away.

Thank God.

The drive to the house Marisa had rented for us was quiet. Katie pulled some papers out of her briefcase and began to puzzle over them. I relaxed into the soft leather interior and smiled as Nicholas hooked one leg over mine, snaked his hand up my chest, and nuzzled my neck.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he murmured into my ear.

“What’s that?” A shiver ran down my spine. “That tickles, Nicholas.”

“I know.” Then he kissed my ear. “I’ve always wanted to neck with you in the back seat of a car as we drove away from a concert.”

“Marisa always made us go in separate cars.”

“Silly, huh. Never again. Kiss me.”

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“Nicholas,” I said, glancing at Katie and the backs of Jeff’s and Mutt’s heads. “We’re not exactly alone, you know.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Katie said. Then, “Dang it, this is crazy.” Glad of the distraction -- though Nicholas still nuzzled my neck, and now his hand rested on my thigh dangerously close to exactly where it didn’t need to be, not when I was smashed up next to Katie -- I said, “What’s crazy?” Katie thumped the notebook in her hand. “This schedule Marisa’s set up for you guys.” She shook her head and pulled out a cell phone, punching one of the numbers. “This is crazy.

I’m not going to put up with this.”

I glanced at Nicholas. He shrugged and whispered in my ear, “You’ve created a monster, think?”

I wasn’t sure what to think.

“Hello, Marisa? It’s Katie. Hi, yes, we’ve just left.” Nicholas snickered. I watched my new PA with admiration, and it just grew as the conversation continued.

“This schedule you have for Brandon and Nicholas?” Oh, I liked that, Brandon before Nicholas. He pouted at me, having noticed as well. “It’s impossible. No ... I know the new CD

comes out next Tuesday but ... Marisa, listen, will you? I know you’re in charge of Nicholas, but I’m in charge of Brandon, and whatever affects Nicholas affects Brandon, and this is not good. The boy’s exhausted ... Yes, Nicholas. He’s high as a kite now, but it’s all adrenaline, believe me.”

She looped her hair back over her ear. I grinned, watching her. Yes, I’d picked myself a tiger, all right.

“He needs at least forty-eight hours without any press, except for Kemma. She won’t intrude ... Well, I’m the one here, and I see it. Nicholas needs to go straight to bed. And Brandon, too.” Katie grinned and looked at us, covering the phone. “That freaked her out,” she whispered to us, then turned back to the phone. “Yup, Monday morning. I’ll handle it.

Bye.”

She flipped the phone shut and grinned. “I bought you guys until Monday. She had, get this, twenty phone interviews set up between now and then! As if you’d be forgotten between today and Tuesday, Nicholas. Geesh.”

“Katie?” he said, grinning.

“Yes?”

“I love you. Thanks for that. Not many can get Marisa to listen to reason other than her own.”

Katie folded her arms across her chest. “She’s met her match, then.”

“How old are you?”

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“Nineteen.”

“Oh, my goodness, you’re not even full grown yet.” Nicholas moaned. “What will you be like in ten years?”

“Still keeping you in line, I hope.”

“Me, too,” I murmured against Nick’s hair. He turned his face to me, met my lips with his, and sighed into my mouth. “Love you,” I whispered.

“Likewise,” he said breathlessly. His hand moved higher on my thigh. Damn, I was getting horny. And he knew it. “Wanna hold my pillow?” he whispered.

I snarled at him, but took it. Katie peered harder at her notes, making Nicholas giggle.

“Hey, bosses, there it is,” Mutt said. We’d pulled up to a gate with a guard. He took our names, staring at us with avid interest before waving us on.

“Gated community, helps keep the weirdos out,” Jeff said.

“And crazed fans,” Nicholas added. He’d paled a little. I grabbed his hand and held it.

He squeezed my fingers and brought my hand up to his lips.

I smiled at him. “It’ll be good.”

“I hope so.”

We’d pulled onto a fir-lined street, past quite nice house after quite nice house --

definitely upscale, this area, and close to the city. Nice. Nicholas was silent beside me. “What do you think?”

He looked out the window and shrugged. “It’s kind of crowded, all the houses close together like this, don’t you think?”

“Real estate’s expensive here. The detective thought this neighborhood was a plus. And all the neighbors know we’re here, to keep a lookout. There’s regular patrols, and ...” I fell silent. Jonathan stood in the driveway, his expression not one of greeting and happiness to see us.

Mutt stopped the car as Jonathan walked up to it. Mutt got out, and Nicholas opened the car door on his side. Kemma and her crew pulled up behind us. Jonathan looked at them, his distress clear. Nicholas got out and I followed.

“Jonathan, what’s wrong?” Nicholas asked.

Jonathan held up his hands. “Cops are on the way. You can’t go in there, guys.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The place has been trashed.”

“How? When?” I demanded, pushing past him. I hobbled up to the house, Jeff on my heels.

“Brandon, wait!” Jonathan ran after me and grabbed me. “Stop. Wait.”

“Where’s Barkley?” Nicholas said. I turned to him. He had his arm around Katie.

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“Barkley’s fine. He’s still with Adam.”

“Dammit, Jonathan, what happened?” I said.

He took a deep breath. “Sometime this morning, the house was broken in to --”

“What about the alarm?”

“Hadn’t been activated yet. In fact, I realized what had happened when I met the alarm people here. They just left. I sent them away.”

I looked from him to Nicholas. “Show me.”

Jeff shook his head. “Not a good idea, Brandon --” But I pushed past him. I couldn’t believe it. Anger surged through me. Some bastard had broken into our house. I hobbled into the foyer and felt bile rise in my throat. I stared in disbelief at the walls, the floor.

Someone had spray-painted the walls of the foyer. Words like “fags” and “cocksuckers” and “queers” and other generally harmless words that nonetheless menaced me were painted in red, black, and gray. Red paint had been spilled over the walls and furniture and floor. I looked at it, went around it into the living room. Anger danced with fear as I stared at the continuation of the bastard’s attack on our home. Furniture had been slashed, knocked over, torn apart. Glass from pictures that had once been on the walls lay shattered on the floor.

How had this happened? Why?

“Brandon, stop --”

I ignored Jon and moved through the living room and kitchen -- all destroyed, everything destroyed -- past a small bedroom and bathroom and then headed for the master bedroom -- our bedroom -- drawn to it, though fear and horror had replaced the anger. I couldn’t stop myself. Then I realized the stench ... oh, my God.

“Brandon, don’t go in there --”

I stood in the doorway and stared in disbelief. Blackness edged my vision as a swath of red filmed my eyes.

“Brandon!”

Nick’s voice, pleading with me. I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at the mess, the blood -- it was blood I smelled. I knew blood. I knew that metallic taste, could feel it in my mouth, clogging my throat. And that wasn’t the worst of it. There was more -- a dead something, a deer maybe, on our bed. My bed. The bed I’d bought just for me and Nicholas.

The deer’s sightless eyes stared at me on its bed of congealing blood.

Blood on the walls, on the floor. The deer sliced open, guts spilling out ... I wavered where I stood, dizziness filling my mind as the deer blended into Nicholas, and it was Nicholas I saw there, Nicholas split open, Nick’s guts spilling out ...

“Brandon!”

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I backed away, my throat burning. With a moan, I stumbled into Jeff -- I think it was Jeff. I didn’t know anymore. I couldn’t see.

I stumbled down the hallway and found the small bathroom, my stomach heaving. I hurled into the bathtub, retching, retching until I couldn’t see and blackness swirled around in my eyes. I couldn’t stop; it kept coming, wave after wave of nausea. I shuddered, cold seeping into my skin, into my bones. I collapsed to my knees. Arms wrapped around me. A cloth wiped across my face.

“Get him out of here,” Jonathan said.

I was lifted into strong arms, familiar arms, Mutt’s. I stared numbly up at the ceiling --

I couldn’t look down, didn’t dare. I heard Nick’s soft, worried murmurs as I was taken outside. The blast of cold air hit my face, shocking me. A shudder wracked me, and the shivers took hold of me then. I moaned, thrashing against my captor’s arms, but he held me tight, and I gave up the fight.

I was eased into the car, not sure, no longer sure of what was happening.

That deer, a deer ... Why had they done that? Why did I see Nicholas -- Nicholas!

“Nicholas!” I choked out.

“I’m here, Brandon. Oh, baby, I’m here. You’re okay. It’s okay.” I clutched at him, gasping as the damp cloth wiped over my face again. The car was moving. I was stretched out on the back seat, cradled in Nick’s arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, terror rocketing through me. What had happened?

“I -- I -- I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Hush now, nothing to be sorry about.”

I looked up, then reached up to touch his face. He was okay. I burst into tears, shame gripping me as I buried my face in his neck. He sucked in his breath, and I eased up -- I was hurting him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hush, Brandon, I’m okay.” His hand soothed me, running up and down my arm, over my back. Slowly the shuddering eased.

“Where do you want me to take you?” Jeff.

“Just drive. Anywhere,” Nicholas said.

I heard Katie’s voice, urgent. “Hotel ... reservation ... private suite ...”

“Katie’s taking care of us,” Nick whispered. “She’s good, she’s good.” He stroked the hair back from my face. I took a deep breath, clutching the blanket he’d pulled up over us.

“Close your eyes and just breathe deep, Brandon. It’s okay now.”

“They got into our house. I can’t ... I can’t go back there.”

“You won’t, don’t worry. We’ll find another house. A better house.” I was vaguely aware of him talking to me like I was a child, but I didn’t care. Nicholas was taking care of it. He was taking care of me. I didn’t have to worry.

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The car moved on, time moved on, and I guess I dozed for a bit. Nick’s thumb stroking my cheek brought me back to awareness. I looked up at him. His eyes were darkened with worry, his face pale.

“You feeling better, baby?” he asked me.

I forced myself to smile, though I didn’t feel like it. He’s here. He’s okay. “You’re the baby, not me,” I said, my throat raw.

He hugged me. “Hm, right. Think you could sit up? Want to show you something.” Only then did I realize the car had stopped. I sat up, wincing a little at my stomach; the burn in my throat made me grimace. Nasty. Katie turned around and handed me a roll of mints.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling sheepish. I popped a mint into my mouth, welcoming the fresh taste. “Sorry about all that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mom gets sick a lot. I can handle it.”

“Look, Brandon,” Nicholas said, pointing through the window.

My eyes widened as I looked out at what had captured Nick’s attention. It was a house.

And not just any house.

Mutt had stopped the car at the base of a small hill. On top of said hill stood the most unique redwood house I’d ever seen. Towering cathedral windows glistened in the early afternoon sun. The back of the house was made up of several different levels, stretched out to encompass the magnificent view. There wasn’t another house for miles around, just mountains, a stream, snow-crusted meadows. A small grove of giant firs did nothing to obscure the view. A barn sat away from the house; whitewashed fencing stretched around it and disappeared down the back of the hill.

And there was a For Sale sign in front of it.

“Welcome home,” Nicholas said, beaming. “I just bought that house.”

“You what?” I said, dumbfounded.

He grinned. “Well, sort of. One very excited realtor is on her way. There she is.” A blue Mercedes drove past us and stopped at the house. “This is it, Brandon. I’ve always wanted a house in the mountains, and this is perfect.”

“You haven’t even been inside,” I said, but my own excitement was mounting.

“I don’t care. I want it. Mutt, go ahead and drive on up.” We drove up to the house. By the time we got there, the realtor, a woman in her fifties who reminded me vaguely of Nurse Goodall, stood beaming in the driveway. We got out of the car, and she walked up to us, her gaze darting from one of us to the other.

Nicholas took mercy on her. “Ms. Allen? I’m Nicholas Kilmain.” Her eyes lit up, and she took his offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kilmain.

Magnificent, isn’t it?”

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Nicholas looked up and nodded. “It is beautiful. Can we see inside? Did you bring the papers?”