A red tainted Silence (57 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Gray

BOOK: A red tainted Silence
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“Almost time for SpongeBob,” I said.

“And he’s about to be on. Go away,” Nicholas said. “This show’s for manly men, not for girls.”

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Carolyn Gray

Jenn snorted at that, as did I.

Sylvie reappeared -- and she had her video camera. “Smile, boys,” she said.

“No!” Tommy shrieked, hiding his face in my shoulder. “Not that! Why did I buy her that damn thing?” He groaned.

“Too late to take it back, Tommy. Proof! See? I told you that you had a crush on Brandon!”

I laughed, though I felt Nicholas tense against me -- that other videotape was still on both our minds, though there hadn’t been any further repercussions from it. But he smiled at me. Now was not the time to let certain things get us down. He pulled himself up higher on the bed and kissed me. I met his lips hungrily with my own, knowing full well Sylvie had it on tape. I really didn’t care.

Nicholas smirked at Tommy. “See? Told you he was mine.” Tommy just chuckled, then ruffled Nick’s hair. “You’re nuts, know that? I know he’s yours. He’s not my type anyway.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Nicholas looked at me. “You, either.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t. You’re number one with me, too.”

“I know,” he said, then leaned down to kiss me on the stomach. “Be better,” he whispered to it.

I pulled my hand out of his and stroked his hair, feeling an unaccountable urge to cry. I was so happy right at that moment, felt so incredibly loved. He looked at me again, saw my expression, and reached up to touch my face. I kissed his fingers and sighed as he draped them possessively, adoringly, around my neck and wrapped himself tighter over me. Sylvie set her camera down and walked around the bed, taking Jonathan’s vacated place (though she drew the line at spooning Nicholas, content to simply lean against the headboard) just as the show started.

Then, another figure appeared in the doorway, and a snort of disgust ruined my mood.

“What the fuck’s going on here?”

Adam. And my dad stood right behind him, his eyes glued to Nicholas draped over me.

Our gazes locked, and my stomach clenched. For the first time in days, I felt like getting sick.

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335

Chapter Twenty-Two

SpongeBob as background music. Interesting notion, but not one I thought exactly worked for a confrontation. I flipped off the plasma.

“Hey, guys, I’d like to talk to my dad alone. Okay?” I glanced at Jonathan. His jaw was clenched, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I’ll be okay,” I told him. He popped his wife on the butt. She frowned at him, but got up and left the room, glaring at Adam as she did so. Adam glanced impassively at Jonathan, whirled about, and walked out the door. The others left me then, Sylvie helping Tommy, each nodding to my dad as they passed through the doorway.

Except for Tommy. He glared.

My Tommy. Gotta love him.

“Do you want me to stay?” Nicholas asked. He hadn’t moved from his position draped over me -- I wouldn’t have let him if he’d tried, not until I was good and ready for him to move. I was long over trying to please my dad.

I kissed him, shaking my head. “I love you, and no, I’ll be fine. Know what I’d like?”

“What’s that?”

“Some blackberry Jell-O.”

He rolled his gaze to the ceiling. “Blackberry.” He grinned at me. “Think I bought some, actually. Bananas?”

“Absolutely. Please.”

He peeled himself off me, his gaze capturing mine and not letting go. I saw the question hovering in his eyes, the Are you sure? I nodded. With a wicked grin, Nicholas leaned over the bed and kissed me. And not just any kiss, but a this-boy-is-mine kiss.

Deep. Hard. Long.

Arousing.

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Carolyn Gray

The varmint.

I chuckled, reaching up to grab his face between my hands. He pulled back, just inches from me. I saw out of the corner of my eye that my dad had turned his back to us.

“I love you,” I said to Nicholas.

“And I, you.”

I let him go and watched him as he approached my dad without hesitation, then nodded to my dad as he pushed his way past him.

My dad watched after him, then, shaking his head, turned to me.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, cutting off any remark he could have made about my lover.

“She’s in the kitchen. Helping your assistant.”

“Her name is Katie. I’d like to talk to Mom.”

“And I told her I wanted to talk to you first.”

I held my tongue at that, just watched him. I moved my hand to my stomach -- willed it to stay calm. Willed myself to stay calm. But it was impossible. My dad always had this effect on me, made me feel small. Insignificant.

Wrong.

I steeled myself. Not this time. No, I would not give him the satisfaction -- the kind of satisfaction like he’d had after grinding me into the ground, telling me what a failure I was and would be, in front of Nicholas that day in the kitchen.

My dad shoved his hands in his pockets, then walked further into our room. “So, you’re back together for good this time, I understand.”

“Yes, we are.”

“You kissed ... kissed him ... on national television?”

“Yes. You watched it, then?”

“Adam told me about it. I heard about it.”

I snorted. “I bet that was an interesting version.”

“It was enough. Brandon, how could you? Why couldn’t you --” He threw his hands up in the air, the look of disgust back on his face.

I clenched my fists. “Why couldn’t I what?”

“Why couldn’t you -- Why the fuck couldn’t you have just been --”

“Normal, like my brothers?” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, yes.”

If he thought Adam was normal, he could take normal. And Jonathan -- well, he didn’t know his oldest very well at all, did he? “Maybe then you could’ve been proud of me?” He stared at me. “I am proud of you.”

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337

“Like hell you are. I’m your fag son. Isn’t that how you look at me? The queer. The fairy. The cocksucker. Isn’t that what you see when you look at me? Not your son who made something of himself, who became fucking world famous and a millionaire, who tore your predictions for him to bits, who gave you -- despite your hate for him --”

“I never said --”

I cut the air with my hand, then wrapped my other arm around my waist, pushing against the pain. “Let me finish. I’ve been waiting a long time to say this.”

“I don’t think this is the time, Brandon. It’s not good for you.” I took a breath, tasted the metallic taste in my mouth again, and swallowed. I reached over and grabbed a tissue, wiped my lips with it -- no blood, thank heavens. I swallowed again.

“Why not? Who knows, I might not survive the surgery. I could bleed to death before then.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

But I barreled on. “You always thought I’d become a failure, but I’m not. I’m not.”

“I never thought you’d become a failure.”

“No, of course not. Because I was born one.”

“Brandon, I --”

I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he still stood there, staring down at me, his eyes reflecting his barely controlled incredulity. Why was he surprised, I wondered? Had he thought I hadn’t figured it out? How he really felt?

“What will it take to make you proud of me? If I wasn’t gay, would you be proud of me then?”

He stared at me for a long time, so long I thought he was about to turn on his heel and leave.

Finally, he spoke. “You have no idea what it’s like, having to deal with ... with being your father. The father of a ... a queer. The constant questions, from friends, coworkers, clients --”

“I can’t believe strangers care that much.”

“You have no idea.” He laughed, the sound coming out like a bark. He straightened, pulling his jacket into place. “Enough of this. It’s all in the past now. Your mother and I want you to come home after the surgery. Where you belong.” Now it was my turn to stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“You found Nicholas. He’s fine. He’s got a life without you. I hear his new single is doing well. He doesn’t need you anymore.”

I shook my head. “You simply don’t get it. You just have no idea, do you? What we mean to each other? What he’s been through?”

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“That has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me! He wouldn’t have gone through what he did if not for me!”

“Adam told me he got hurt, but --”

“Yes, he got hurt, all right,” I said sarcastically. Nearly cut in two -- but my dad didn’t know that, because he’d never asked. Not once.

“He seems fine now. Adam said --”

“Adam doesn’t know shit about what Nicholas went through. No one does. No one but me, and the cops, and the doctors who put him back together.” My stomach clenched, but I ignored it. I pushed off the bed; I couldn’t sit there anymore. I stood, a little shocked to realize how dizzy I was. But I fought it off, wouldn’t show my dad how weak I really was.

“No one told me.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” I said softly. “Why, out of all the times I talked to Mom all those days we were in the hospital, didn’t you ask?” I shook my head. “You know something, Dad? You’ve always hated him, and I just don’t get it. You’ve always thought him weak, and ... and ... I don’t know. I just don’t understand it. Despite everything we’ve achieved. The fame. The money. The success we had --”

“-- that nearly cost you your sanity! You would never have broken down if not for him! You wouldn’t be sick now if not for him!”

“Yeah, and I’d be working at some five-and-dime, the loser you always wanted me to be.”

“At least you’d be --”

“Normal? Saddled with a wife and kids, struggling, miserable, hating my life, but hey, at least I’d be straight? Would you have liked that better? Then you wouldn’t be ashamed of me around your buddies, huh?”

I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to make it look as if my knees had buckled --

which they had. Rubbing my hand tiredly over my face, I shook my head. I was so tired, exhausted. I didn’t need this, but I couldn’t let it go.

“You say what happened to Nicholas has nothing to do with me, but you’re wrong.” I looked up at him. “I am the reason Nicholas was kidnapped. Nearly died.” The expression on his face was priceless. I snorted. “You didn’t know that, did you? You have no fucking idea what he’s been through. Did you know he was beaten? Tormented? Did you know he was starved, kept locked up, blindfolded, naked and freezing in a fucking dog crate?”

“You can’t be serious --”

“I am serious,” I said quietly as the horror began to replay in my mind. “What, did you think his kidnapper kept him at the Hilton? Complete with room service?” I shook my head A Red-Tainted Silence

339

and looked at him, realizing at that moment just how small and ... and old he looked. When had that happened? Not that I cared. He’d made sure I wouldn’t.

At least he had Adam. Two peas in a pod.

“Oh, I am serious, Dad. That barely touches what he endured. Nick’s the strongest, most amazing person I know. You don’t know, Adam doesn’t, even Jonathan doesn’t.” I laughed bitterly. “Only I, and the cops and doctors, of course, knew what happened to him.

He didn’t want anyone else to know, and I’d appreciate you not telling Mom or Adam.

Almost every day, new photographs of Nicholas would come to me. Photographs of my Nicholas, starting with the first ones, coming to me.” I closed my eyes, felt the heat of tears.

“Lying there, beaten senseless next to his car. He’d just been to see me, did you know that?” I looked at my dad. The horror in his eyes had no effect on me. I was too numb with the remembered pain.

“You can’t imagine what it was like, knowing I was responsible for what happened to him. That if he hadn’t come after me, he’d never have gone through such unbelievable hell.

He’d tracked me down in Murrieta, insisted I see him. Just one more time, one more time he tried to talk to me, but I was too wrapped up in my own world of misery to listen to him. At least at first.”

I stared down at my hands. Clenched them until my knuckles turned white. “But finally I did listen. I finally said yes, I still loved him. And he was so damn happy. Despite all I’d done to him, how much I’d hurt him, killed Dream, he still wanted me. So, we made love.

He fucked me, and it was glorious.” My dad inhaled sharply at that. “One last, long, beautiful night of screwing our brains out. But I still rejected him. I broke his heart, tore him to pieces.

Sent him away, said I never, ever wanted to see him again. You see, I had to. I had to. If I didn’t, they’d kill him, and I knew it. I knew it because they’d promised me they would.” Or I would have, had he given me the chance.

“Who? What are you talking about? This was ... did this have to do with that damn tape? With what happened to Tommy?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I was just so fucked up right then that I thought I was protecting him, by rejecting him. Like I’d always done, even though it was killing me. Funny thing is, he saw through it all. He told me he was going to figure out what was really going on, somehow. He figured it out, all right.” I smiled at my dad, a sneering, feral smile that made him wince. But I didn’t care. “He figured it out when he drove home from the airport in California and saw an old man who needed help. When he pulled over, no one else was around. The guy he stopped to help attacked him. Beat him. Nick’s not weak. He’s a fighter. He’s not a big man, but he’s scrappy as hell. I know he fought his attacker hard, but his attacker was stronger, meaner. You should’ve seen the pictures, Dad. I’m sure your first thought would’ve been that Nicholas deserved it.”

“I would never --”

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I pushed off the bed. “Wouldn’t you? Weren’t you just a little bit disappointed when we actually found Nicholas? When you learned your gay son’s former lover had been found alive?”

I waited, my whole body tense with anger. Waited to see the split-second of indecision, the split-second of truth.

But if it came, I didn’t see it. A stab of pain hit me in the gut. I winced, wrapping my arm around my middle. I sat on the bed, hard, coiling against the pain. He reached for me, but I hit him away. “Leave me alone.” I tasted blood. “Just go. Leave me alone.” He stepped away. “You’re wrong. I would never wish that on anyone, Brandon. I’ve said a lot of things I’ve regretted, maybe even done some things, but I would never, ever wish that kind of hell on anyone.”

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