A red tainted Silence (68 page)

He told me once that when he was a young boy, when his daddy asked him what he was going to be when he grew up, the expected answer of fireman or doctor or whatever didn’t come.

“I’m going to be a superstar,” he told his dad. And his dad, of course, being the practical man he was, told him to be a teacher. And he was, and nearly would’ve been still, but for that advertisement I placed.

Amazing thing, fate. I believe to this day he would’ve made it, with or without me. He would’ve been a great teacher. But I almost panic sometimes, thinking how close he came to not realizing his dream.

Back then though, in that mean, ugly little apartment that was a castle to Nick’s eyes, he completely believed in himself. In his talent, the lyrics in his head, his amazing voice. In me. And oh, if I’d known, if I’d realized how disappointed I would make him in the coming years ...

Would I have had the strength to walk away from him, leave him to his remarkable fate, to face it alone? Without me?

No. I never had that kind of strength. I couldn’t tear myself from him then, and only did later because I had no choice.

A Red-Tainted Silence

401

* * * * *

The hospital room door opened. “Mr. Kilmain?”

I nearly snarled in frustration as the voice’s owner poked in. I tried to keep reading, see what Brandon wrote next, but it was useless. “Excuse me?”

“What?” I said tersely, pouting heavily at the stranger.

The stranger did not get the hint. Came in anyway. I glared at the redheaded man who, I estimated, was barely my age. Probably younger. Some nurse or blood techie. The vampires.

“I’d appreciate you not disturbing Brandon. He’s sleeping comfortably now,” I said.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, then picked up Brandon’s chart from the end of the bed, and I realized, a mere bit late, that this was the doctor. I winced as he looked at me, then back at the chart, then walked up to Brandon, gently moved his hand from where it still protectively cupped his dick.

I stood, embarrassed for Brandon though the doc seemed unfazed. Then again, at least this was a guy doc. I’d had a girl doc. But she was a cool girl doc, and very understanding of me and Brandon, what we meant to each other. About our being lovers.

I put the laptop down, my breath hitching a little as I twisted about and stood. Damn scar. The doctor looked at me and raised an eyebrow (he had a remarkable talent for that).

I stood on the side of the bed, my hands on the cool rail. “Will he get the catheter out soon? I hope?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll get him up walking then.”

“So soon? I wasn’t allowed to walk for days after I arrived.” He looked at me then. “You also nearly died from your injury.”

“But I thought this nearly killed him.”

“Not the surgery itself. The blood loss and shock.” I felt very small. “Oh.”

The doctor had pity on me. Said, “He’ll be okay now. He’s out of that danger, at least.” I nodded. “At least there is that,” I said, brushing Brandon’s hair from his face. The doctor pulled the covers back, to check Brandon’s incision, I suppose. It felt weird, standing there next to my lover, his body naked except for the flimsy hospital gown which was open anyway, another man with us. Not my idea of a threesome. Not that I was into that sort of thing. No way.

402

Carolyn Gray

The doctor eyed me, and I frantically wondered if I’d giggled or something. I cocked my head at the doc and waited. He lifted that eyebrow again and then peeled the bandage off of Brandon’s incision with practiced fingers. “We’ll leave it uncovered now,” he said.

I stared in fascination at the staples. Yes, of course I’d had staples, plenty of staples, and so had Brandon on his back, but I hadn’t actually been in any shape to look at them.

I cringed as I looked at the angry scar. “Is it okay?”

“Yes. Looks very nice, actually,” he said. “I’m pleased.” I sucked in my breath, then let it out. “It makes me very happy to hear that.”

“He’s not out of the woods yet, though. Don’t forget that.”

“But I thought you said he wouldn’t die now --”

The doctor gently covered Brandon again. He hadn’t moved throughout the entire examination.

“I’m talking about mentally, Mr. Kilmain. I’ve discussed Mr. Ashwood with Dr. Yancy.

He’s still in danger.”

I stroked Brandon’s arm, watched his face. My chest tightened, fear settled its ugliness on my shoulders again. “I know. I know.” Fuck, I knew.

The doctor made a few more notations, then left me. I still didn’t move, didn’t stop stroking Brandon’s arm. He shifted in bed, his eyes fluttering, then opened. He turned his head to look at me.

“Still here?”

“Of course.”

“Go home. Get some rest.”

“No,” I said.

“Stubborn,” he whispered.

“Uh-huh,” I said, then returned to the laptop. Shut it down. I was anxious to get back to it, but couldn’t while he was awake.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. I smiled at him.

“You sound like a bullfrog.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I leaned over him, then kissed him. His hand cupped the back of my head, deepened our kiss before he fell back, exhausted.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“You promised me something, you know.” Then he pulled back his covers and patted the bed next to him. It looked awfully narrow, but I dutifully kicked off my shoes, pulled off A Red-Tainted Silence

403

my jeans while he watched, pleasing me by the warm glow in his eyes, and pulled off my sweater. “Nick, what if a nurse comes in?”

I climbed into his bed. “Then she’ll think I’m naked in your bed, doing wild things to your dick underneath the sheet.”

“Nick,” he groaned. “If only it was the truth.”

“It will be, soon as you get rid of that thing.” His coloring deepened, making me grin wickedly. “That’s a promise.”

“You made me another promise. My bedtime story, remember?”

“What, the two bad boys in the bathroom story?”

“The same.”

I slid down further into the bed, pulling the covers over us. I sighed in contentment as I curled as carefully as I could against his side, getting my face as close to his as I could. “All right, Brandon,” I whispered, kissing his cheek, lacing my fingers with his, relishing their warmth, their gentle strength. “I’ll tell you a story. A remarkably horny story about two remarkably horny men who loved each other remarkably hornily well, and remarkably creatively.”

“Nicholas.” Exasperation. I grinned.

“Okay, okay. I’ll behave.” I cleared my throat, nuzzled his face, kissed his cheek, and whispered in his ear. “Once upon a time there were two beautiful men, one dark-haired when he was in the mood, the other a beautiful blond god. They loved each other very, very much, these two, and had an amazing life, and an amazing way of showing how much they loved each other ...”

404

Carolyn Gray

“What are you doing?” Lee asked as he walked into the living room back at the house the next morning.

I pushed the plug into the wall socket, then glared at the floor. “Barkley’s shedding.

What does it look like I’m doing?”

I turned the vacuum on and, ignoring the twinges from my scar, began to suck up the little dust bunnies, stabbing at them with the vacuum’s nozzle, chasing them underneath the couch. Little buggers couldn’t escape me, nope.

“Don’t you guys have a cleaning service?” he said over the vacuum’s roar. “That thing is awfully noisy.”

Yeah, it was. Not that I minded. The noise drowned out the panicked beating of my heart. “Yes,” I said loudly. I didn’t look him in the eye.

He sat down on the couch, then lifted his feet up when I glared at them. I attacked the carpet beneath his feet, then said, “Get up and help me. Move the couch. Dust bunnies under there.”

Lee started to protest, wisely thought better of it, then stood and pushed the couch over.

“Aha! See?” I said, sucking up my quarry and grinning in triumph. “Nasty little bastards, full of germs.”

Then I started to vacuum the couch. What if germs got there, too? I could see Barkley’s little hairs all over the place. When Brandon came home, he didn’t need to rest on a bunch of dog hairs. Really, Barkley needed to stay on the floor, but given that I’d spoiled him rotten and Adam had, too, that wasn’t likely to happen.

My side started to hurt, but I didn’t care. I directed Lee to move the couch back, then push the chair aside so I could get under there. I could feel his eyes on me -- huge, brown, A Red-Tainted Silence

405

knowing. He has lovely eyes, I’ve always thought, but they show him too damn much, and right now they were focused on me. Watched me as I moved like a maniac, attacking dust bunnies both real and imagined in my futile quest not to let what I’d seen the day before play over and over again in my mind.

“Nicholas,” he finally said again. This time, he put that “Lee means business” tone in his voice. I ignored him, moved to the piano. I was getting tired, my heart thumping madly.

“What?” I said, grimacing as I moved too fast. I turned aside so he couldn’t see, but it was too late; I had to grab my side. I felt his hand on my shoulder. I bowed my head, closed my eyes against the roiling pain. He cussed beneath his breath, took the vacuum from me, and turned it off.

“Come sit down.”

I tried to protest, but he pushed me onto the couch and sat next to me. Looked me in the eye and frowned. I was short of breath. I laid my head back, found Lee’s arm, and rolled my head to look at him. I love Lee. Straight as a board, but always had been my faithful companion, always looked out for me, was there for me from the beginning. We’ll grow old together, me and Lee, my bassist, my friend, playing my music together. Would Brandon get to, too? Or would I lose him to some nameless, faceless enemy in his mind? How could I fight that? With what?

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Lee sighed, pulled me to him. “Nicholas, you can’t push yourself like this.”

“I love you, Lee.”

He chuckled, but when I tried to sit up, he wouldn’t let me. “I know you do. Now tell me what’s up. I’m not letting you go until you do.” I sighed. Pulled my feet up under me on the couch, but still leaned against him, drawing in his strength. I’m worse than a vacuum, stealing everyone’s strength like I do, but Lee’s always freely given it, always been the only one who really has. Well, except for Jon.

And Amanda.

“I can’t remember my lyrics,” I blurted out.

He stilled. “What, you mean you can’t remember every single lyric to all two, three hundred songs or so that you’ve written over the past eleven years? Shame on you.” I smiled shyly and laughed despite myself. “No, no, just the important ones. I tried to remember and I couldn’t and I freaked.” I dropped my gaze. “It scared me, Lee, not being able to remember.”

“You will. We’ll practice and it will all come back.” I sat up then and he let me, handed me a box of Kleenex. I took one and blew my nose, then leaned against him again. Lee’s a good leaning post, warm and non-threatening. “I know, I know, you’re right, but knowing I should know something and not being able to remember, really freaks me out. I keep wondering ...” I trailed off.

406

Carolyn Gray

“How Brandon must feel?”

I nodded, relieved he understood. “I know he knows there’s something he’s not remembering, and that he should remember it, and I know he knows that we know what it is.” I thumped my chest. “That I know, and I’m not telling him.” I looked at Lee. He gave me a quirky grin. “Okay, I think I understood that. Has he asked you what it is?”

“No.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it just yet. Why are you here, cleaning, anyway? Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

I studied my fingernails. Really needed buffing. “He’s meeting with the psychiatrist, and she wanted me not to be around.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“She said that I, uh, tend to dominate Brandon in conversation.” I glared at his grin.

“And he defers to me too much. Like I’m the boss. Like I’m the total top, basically. Except she didn’t put it that way.”

Lee chuckled at that. “That’s interesting. Is that how you see you guys now?” I shrugged. “No, no, I don’t know. Things are different, Lee. I’m -- I’m different. After what I went through --” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “I’m just not the same man,” I said. “I used to be like that, but not anymore. Brandon and I ...” I smiled at him.

“Well. Let’s just say a lot of stuff is different. But I guess she’s right; I do tend to go on a lot.

And, yeah, I guess I answer for him, but it’s because I know what he’s going to say. But that’s not how it was before. Before, I wouldn’t let him --” I stopped. “Wow. No, I don’t do that anymore. I’m not the same as I was, not the same.” He grinned, ruffled my hair. He’s always loved to do that. I always pretended to hate it.

Did so now. “No, you’re not the same you were before all this, but you’re still the same Nicholas. Believe me. I’ve watched you grow and change and evolve over the years, but you’ve always stayed the same person, in here.” He tapped my chest. “And that is a good person in there, Nicholas. A very brave person. Smart. Witty. Intelligent. And very clever.” I laid my head against the back of the couch again and stared at the ceiling. “Am I smart enough, Lee? Am I clever enough to figure out what Brandon saw before I lose him completely?”

“Is there really a danger of that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He seemed really good when I left this morning, feeling much better, but I don’t know. I’ll go back up after lunch. He gets to come home tomorrow. Can you believe it?”

“Can you? Are you ready?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve been trying to go through all his stuff, all he’s written before he comes home, but I have a lot to read yet.” A Red-Tainted Silence

407

Lee looked at me, puzzled. “What are you talking about?” I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to the table where my laptop was set up.

“Look.” I sat down, motioned for him to join me. He dragged over a chair and sat. I pulled up the file Brandon had started. “See, he’s written me a story, his life story. Jon and I are reading it, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his, why he ... he ...” I closed my eyes. “Why I’m losing him.”