A red tainted Silence (5 page)

I groaned, not believing what she was saying. “That’s it? That’s all? I wasn’t even sure myself, you know, that day.” I huffed beneath my breath. “I still can’t believe you figured it out, even before I did.”

“I wasn’t completely positive until I saw your reaction to Nicholas. When you were watching him ...” She touched my hand. “You should’ve seen your face. That’s when I was really positive I was right.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I feel like such an idiot,” I said.

“Why? He’s beautiful. If I were a guy, I’d probably like him, too.” I burst out laughing at that and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to find out, I promise.” We pulled back. I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. “It’s good to see you smiling. You don’t do it enough,” she said.

“Maybe I’ll have more of a reason to soon, thanks to you. I want him so bad, Jenn.”

“I know. We’ll find him this time. I promise.”

“Hey guys, what’s up?”

Jenny yelped, and I coughed and pulled back, shocked as I looked up to find Adam in the doorway. Grabbing my water, I took a deep swallow, praying Adam hadn’t heard anything. Once I’d regained my composure I looked up -- and stilled when he wouldn’t meet my eye.

“What’s wrong, Adam?” I asked.

“Um, Brandon, I don’t know how to tell you this, but --” He looked down at the ground. “Shit.”

“What’s going on,” I asked again, pushing my covers back. I only had boxers on, but I didn’t care. I stood, feeling slightly dizzy, and had to grab hold of the bed to steady myself.

“Our new singer? Well, he left.”

I groaned. “Harvey quit? I didn’t even get to play with the guy. Why’d he quit?” A Red-Tainted Silence

23

Adam grimaced. “It’s worse than that, Brandon. He stole everything.” I gripped the bed harder. “What do you mean, he stole everything?”

“Keyboards, drums, he cleaned us out. There’s nothing in the studio. Nothing.”

“No,” I said, thumping the bed as my anger soared. My guitar was safe at home, but my keyboards? I had hundreds invested in them. Hundreds. And I was still paying on one of them, too. “Did you call the police?”

“Yeah, I did. Just got done with them.”

“Shit!”

“That’s what I said. Sorry, Brandon.”

I collapsed onto the side of the bed, burying my face in my hands. I felt Jenny’s hand on my shoulder. Then horror soared through me, twisting my gut so hard I gasped. I looked up at Adam, my mouth working soundlessly. He hadn’t moved. His face was as white as my bedroom walls.

“My music,” I finally choked out. I stood. He took a step back. “My music, Adam.

Where’s my music?” My voice shook. “Adam, please, don’t tell me he took my music.”

“I’m sorry, Brandon.”

I reeled back as if punched. “Fuck!” I grabbed my bedside lamp and smashed it against the wall, feeling my life shatter into a million multicolored shards.

* * * * *

“Brandon, what’s wrong now?”

I looked up from my laptop and took a deep breath. “Nothing, Nicholas.” He cocked an eyebrow at me from his hospital bed. “That’s what you say every time I ask you what’s with the sad face. Except this time, you look pissed.” I hit Save and closed my laptop. “I am pissed. Or was.”

“Why?”

Nick’s like a Jack Russell -- he refuses to let things go. “I was just remembering about that guy Harvey who stole all our equipment,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t take anything but a straight answer. Before I found you again, I mentally finished, as we never talk about that short but tragic time in our lives. We would have to now though. I was going to make us. But not tonight. Not now. I was almost to that point in the story, and it made me sick to even think about it ... but I had to.

24 Carolyn Gray

It was the basis for all our misery, after all, in the coming years, the blackness that discolored the edges of all that was good about Dream, and me and Nicholas. A darkness that could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t been such a self-centered idiot, so stupid --

“And stole your music,” he added, snapping me out of my sudden plunge into despair.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. That, too.”

“It still hurts, doesn’t it? Even after all these years.”

“Yeah, it does.” The bastard had managed to record some of my songs and still probably makes royalties off them, though he’s now a has-been. I pushed Harvey out of my mind. I definitely didn’t need to get worked up over something I couldn’t change. Besides, he never found the popularity with my music that he no doubt expected, especially after Dream took off -- he didn’t have Nick’s voice.

“What are you doing over there, anyway? You’ve been writing on that thing for the last two days. You don’t have a new email play pal, do you?” A hint of a whine crept into his voice, making me grin. That sounded more like the Nicholas I knew and loved, and so I welcomed it.

Still, I debated answering him, then shrugged. Why not? Putting the foot to my chair down, I grabbed my crutches and swung my way over to Nicholas. The last two days of solid rest had made him look a lot better. He didn’t seem to be in so much pain. I reached out and pushed a strand of hair from his face. “You’re my only play pal, Nicholas,” I said.

He blushed. My heart soared. “So what are you doing, then?” he asked.

“I’m writing you a story.”

A small grin crept onto his face. “Is it wicked?” I laughed. “Well, it will be eventually. Right now, though, it’s just kind of sad.” I took Nick’s hand. He didn’t pull back, and that made me glad. His hand, so ice cold a couple days before, now felt warm and alive. Maybe, I thought, looking at his eyes that were a little less red-rimmed, his complexion that was a little less pale, he really was getting better.

What he needed was some fresh air and sun, but that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. I glanced out the window. It was still snowing. I wished it would blizzard. That wouldn’t happen, of course. And the press conference would take place the next afternoon, snowstorm or not.

Nick’s thumb stroked the top of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. We’d not had time to talk about anything between us yet, but like me -- at least it looked like it --

Nicholas was willing to keep the door open until we could have that talk. But not yet. Not until I finished my story and he had a chance to read it.

“Why is it sad? You’re writing about your music getting stolen?” I grinned. “No, I’m writing about you.” His eyes widened. “And me.”

“Brandon,” he said, a glint in his eye. “Fiction? I could make a few suggestions, if you like.”

A Red-Tainted Silence

25

But I shook my head. “Not fiction. It’s ... it’s the truth.” A lump suddenly dwelled in my throat. After a moment of ineffectively struggling to say something, I thumped the bed with a fist. A bitter laugh escaped me. “See? This is -- I can’t even tell you what it’s about without freaking out.”

He laid cool fingers on my arm. “Then don’t tell me. I’ll wait to read it. I just hope it doesn’t stay sad. Why are you writing it, though, if it makes you feel bad?” I forced myself to look at him. “I’m -- I’m trying ...” I shook my head, rubbed my hand across my eyes. Damn, I was so tired. “I’m trying to make it good between us, Nicholas. I don’t want to lose you again. I’ve let that happen too many times in the past. So I’m trying --

” I closed my eyes, swallowed against the lump in my throat. Nicholas tugged on my hand, pulling me toward him. I pulled back. “No, I don’t want to hurt you --”

“You won’t,” he said. “Come here, Brandon.” I still hesitated -- he was so broken, so bruised -- but he tugged again, moving gingerly over in his bed as he held his covers back.

“Spoon with me,” he whispered, making me laugh through my tears.

I nodded, curling up on my right side, facing away from him, scared I’d hurt him anyway. He still had IVs in his arm, and the blasted catheter, which he loathed quite vocally, but somehow we were able to meld together, his bare feet wrapped over my cast. I pulled the cover back over us and relaxed against his pillows. I buried my face in them and breathed in.

Essence of Nicholas -- there was nothing like it.

“Nurse Barracuda is going to freak when she sees this,” Nicholas said.

“You mean Nurse Ratched?”

“Freddy Krueger’s wife.”

“Godzilla,” I said.

“I thought Godzilla was a boy?” I looked over my shoulder at him, eyebrow raised, and he nodded. “Point taken.”

I turned my face back into his pillows. “Don’t worry, though. Nurse Goodall is on duty tonight. She won’t care. She adores you”

“Glad I haven’t lost all my charm.”

“As if you could, Nicholas. As if you could,” I said softly.

A shudder of longing raced through me as he oh-so-carefully curled up against my back. He wrapped his arm around my waist, taking care not to rub against my stitches, and snuggled his face into the back of my neck. His breath stroked warmly against me, and then I felt the brush of his lips against my shoulder. I grinned and laced my fingers through his, taking care not to squeeze.

“Goodnight, Brandon,” he said, his breath whispery with fatigue.

“Goodnight, Nicholas. Sleep well.”

“I will with you here. And, Brandon?”

26 Carolyn Gray

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to lose you again, either.”

I smiled through a teary haze into the darkness. “You won’t. I promise,” I said and reached for the switch to turn off the light.

A Red-Tainted Silence

27

“Mr. Ashwood. Wake up.”

I slowly opened my eyes. Blinking against the low light, I found myself looking into Nurse Goodall’s smiling face. “What time is it?” I asked, realizing then that Nicholas still slept.

“Five-thirty.”

Shit.

Sometime during the night, I’d turned over and curled against Nick’s side, while he sprawled as he always did on his back, arms and legs akimbo. I, on the other hand, was scooted almost off the bed -- if not for the rail, I’d have been on the floor. I closed my eyes, realizing that my body hurt. I was stiff, sore; my stitches felt like they were pulling. They couldn’t come out soon enough.

My broken leg was covered by one of Nick’s, and my left arm had turned into Nick’s pillow. He slept on, oblivious to having taken over the bed, but I didn’t mind. Not when looking at his face and how comfortably he slept.

“He looks so peaceful,” I said, brushing my fingers across his cheek. I gently lifted his chin and kissed him without waking him, then blushed, my gaze flicking to the nurse.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mind me. You have a right to be happy. He definitely made a turn for the better yesterday. I’m going to take out his catheter now.” I looked at the nurse in surprise. “Now?”

She nodded. “I leave at six. I think he’d rather I do it than --”

“Than Nurse Ratched.”

28 Carolyn Gray

She turned to a tray that I just then noticed and slipped on a pair of gloves. “Exactly.” She winked.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Not necessary. This will take just a minute.”

“Shouldn’t you wake him up?” I asked as she pulled back the cover. I concentrated on the clock on the wall -- I really didn’t want to see this.

“No. He won’t feel a thing, believe me. He’s a little sedated anyway.”

“Oh. Good.” I gulped, my gaze drawn back to what she was doing. First she pulled the cover up a little further and checked the wound that had nearly killed Nicholas. The puckered arc across his stomach and around his side made me wince, but her pleased hum reassured me like nothing else could’ve.

“Looks really good,” she said.

“It does?”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Absolutely. It will scar, and badly, but no one but you and he will notice. And somehow, I don’t think he’ll mind you seeing it.” She winked at me again and I felt my face heat. Then she walked around the bed and checked my stitches, too, her hands cool and light on my skin. “Good, very good. You’ll both be getting your stitches out today, I suspect.” She smiled at my frown. “Don’t worry, Mr. Ashwood. Your doctor prefers handling that herself.”

“You sure I shouldn’t leave?”

“You’re fine. Close your eyes if you’d like.”

She emptied the bag and pulled off the tape that held the catheter tubing in place to Nick’s thigh. Despite myself, I watched, fascinated, as she gently pulled the catheter out.

“Is that it?” I said as she put the used catheter in a plastic bag and sealed it.

“That’s it.” Nicholas hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even twitched. “He’s a free man now.” I chuckled. “He’ll be damn glad that thing’s out.” She cleaned him up a little, then pulled the cover back in place. “Tell him it may be a little while before he can go again, and there may be a little pinkish tinge when he first voids. Maybe a little discomfort. Any more than that, he should tell the nurse on duty.”

“Nurse Godzilla.”

She grinned. “You boys take care. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thanks. And thanks for caring so much.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Ashwood.” She smiled fondly at Nicholas. “He’s a pleasure to help. Patients like you boys are why I do what I do.” Then we were alone. Nicholas sighed in his sleep and smiled -- maybe he sensed the offending dick monster, as he’d called it more than once, was gone. I realized then that I needed to visit the boy’s room myself. Taking care not to wake him, I eased out of the bed, A Red-Tainted Silence

29

grabbed my crutches, and took care of business. Then, despite the ridiculously early hour, I found my gaze drawn to my laptop, and my fingers began to itch.

The hard times were approaching -- the first parts of our lives together that I dreaded writing about. But it had to be done.

With a sigh of longing directed at the bed and Nicholas -- it would be nice to climb back in beside him, cramped bed or no -- I returned to my chair, revved up the laptop, and got back to work. If I was lucky, I’d be able to get in a few pages before Nurse Barracuda chased me out of the room.

* * * * *

A couple more days passed before I felt well enough to get dressed in something other than boxers and a robe. I’d been sick for a week. Having all my music and equipment stolen, and finding, connecting with, and losing Nicholas all in one afternoon had made me feel even worse. My head had finally stopped hurting, as had my hand, but that depressed me even further. I could no longer remember how his touch felt against my skin.