A Veil of Glass and Rain (22 page)

Neal helped Hans, the bartender, find a nice

and affordable apartment.

Whenever his sister calls for him, Neal runs

to her.

The twins and I spend the majority of our

nights at the club. When we're not playing, we

enjoy the other performances. Neal doesn't

hire only musicians to entertain his clients, but

also actors and dancers. The house is

continually full. The audience is ever pleased.

Neal is a good boss, still I'm weary around

him. When we meet, however, our lips curl

into tentative, but sincere smiles, that nurture

the seed of promise within my soul.

I can't sleep without him.

Tonight, for the first time, I have the

apartment all to myself; Ivan and Alessio are

enjoying a fancy dinner with their new boys.

The twins met their young men a few nights

ago. The two charming and sophisticated

German guys came backstage after our show,

to compliment and congratulate us. Then they

asked Ivan and Alessio out. Ivan accepted right

away, while Alessio hesitated, but only for a

brief moment. When he nodded his agreement,

pride swelled and unfurled in my chest.

So, tonight I'm all alone and my appetite is

absent.

I've been trying hard to eat regularly. Every

time they can, the twins cook and eat with

me, to make certain I ingest a sufficient

amount of food.

But it's not nourishment I truly crave. And

my mind is crowded with memories and

doubts.

I hope I've made the right choice.

I hope Eagan doesn't detest me for it.

Clém writes to us plenty of emails, and we

write her just as many in return. She tells us

about her show and about how much she likes

the funny and lively Enrico. Then she adds that

Eagan's smiles, when she happens to see him,

never reach his eyes. Upon reading her words,

my breath breaks, my heart stutters and my

throat burns.

As I'm unable to rest, I grab my blue guitar

and I begin to sing about him.

21.

EAGAN

The road is an infinite and convoluted path.

The trees sliding by on either side of the

car are long and murky shapes.

My fingers grip the steering wheel with

vicious vigor. My knuckles turn white.

David occupies the passenger seat. I glance

at him.

“Why am I dreaming about you? I only

dream about you on the day of your death,” I

tell him.

The dark shadows of the deformed tress

carve his young features.

“You're lonely. You miss Brina. And you also

miss Neal and Felia. They're your family. You

should go to them. And I should be the one

driving,” David says.

Then obscurity swallows the car. And the

noise of metal bending and glass breaking

splinters my ears.

Then I'm swimming in an ocean of fractured

limbs: My limbs.

Then the phone rings. The tone yanks me

out of my nightmare.

Panting and sweating with cold horror, I

blindly grope across the nightstand surface,

until I find the source of the noise. I touch the

screen with my thumb and place the cellphone

close to my ear.

“What?”

“Good-afternoon, Eagan. You sound awful.”

“Neal?” I growl.

“The one and only,” he replies.

I sit up abruptly, fully awake. “Something

happened to Brina?”

“No. Relax. She's fine. She's eating all her

vegetables. She's spending some healthy time

outdoors. And she's working for me.”

“Good. “ A part of me is happy for her. But

I'm also a selfish bastard. I don't want her to be

fine without me.

“She's also writing a song. And she's going to

play it. Soon. For my audience. You should

come.”

“I can't,” I say through clenched teeth. I'm

selfish, but I'm also very proud of her. And I

want to listen to her song.

“Why not?” Neal demands.

“She asked me for six weeks. And it's only

been a month,” I explain.

“Who cares! Take control of the situation.

Be an alpha guy. Instead of—Hell, I don't know

which letter of the Greek alphabet you're now,

but it's not a good one.”

“Thanks for the boost, pal,” I tell him flatly.

“She needs you. It's written all over her

face. And I miss you. And Felia misses you.”

As he mentions his sister, Neal's voice fills

with heavy sadness.

“How is she?”

“I don't know. Felia's always so desperate

and distant. She needs me, but she never

really lets me in,” Neal admits, then he lets

out a broken breath. For a moment his mask of

detachment slips away and I'm allowed to

catch a glimpse of his grief.

“I'll be there tomorrow.” For him. For

Felia. And for my Brina.

“Good. My studio apartment is all yours. You

and your lady need a private place,” relief

floods Neal's words.

“Where will you stay?”

“I own a
theater
with numerous, cozy

alcoves. Remember?” A hint of pride marks his

tone.

Crazy, generous Neal.

22.

EAGAN AND BRINA

Eagan.

Alcove number fourteen. According to Neal

that's where I'm going to find Brina.

Apparently, she's resting. I make my way to

her The music, the noises, along with the

performers on the stage, are just a brief

distraction. My skin craves only Brina; her

lemony scent, her sweet voice, her responsive

body.

I wade briskly through writhing limbs, alight

with blue and silver shadows. The attention of

the crowd is held by a group of dancers

swaying and jumping on the huge stage. The

silver and blue lights create the impression of

rain falling around and over them.

I know exactly where to go. I designed this

place for Neal.

I leave the people and the show behind. At

last, I step into the alcove. The vaulted

ceiling, the walls, the floor are screened with

wine-red velvet. Witnessing the actuality of

my designs fill me with pride. Then my gaze

settles on my girl's lovely figure. My heart

leaps. My cock swells and jerks. My jeans

become an uncomfortable restraint. My

muscles tense.

Brina is reclining onto a cloud of velvety red

pillows. She's asleep. The fluttering of her

eyelids speaks of a restless slumber. She's

wearing a simple black T-shirt, jeans and well-

used sneakers. Her long hair is a shiny, dark

stain around her slender frame. Her purple lips

are slightly parted. She looks perfect.

I kneel beside her on the carpeted floor. I

reach out and stroke my hands along her

ankles and up her calves. She stirs. She opens

her eyes. She sees me. Tears pool in her inky

gaze. She sits up, then she scrambles toward

me on her hands and knees. I wait for her with

outstretched arms. She winds her arms around

my neck and wraps her legs around my middle.

I fold her into my embrace and I squeeze her

body tightly. I don't care if I crush her. I don't

care if she can't breathe. It's been too long.

Her familiar scents ooze though my clothes and

my skin. My mouth relinquishes a quiet cry of

elation.

“You're here.”

It's all she says. But her body tells a more

fervent story. She trembles. Her breathing is

labored. I feel her tears as she rains kisses

along my neck and my jaw. She desires me as

much as I crave her. A charge of exaltation

invades my chest. My erection twitches. I dig

my fingers in her hair and grab her nape. I tug

and yank her face away from my neck. She

whimpers, then she moans as I begin to lap at

her tears.

I devour her soft, salty skin. I'm greedy. I'm

breathless. She surrenders her mouth to my

demanding kiss. I growl my approval. I nibble

at her soft lips. I bite. I suckle her tongue. I

taste her sweet mouth. Then I ravage it.

Her fingers delve into the back of my neck.

Her hips grind against my erection. She pants

against my lips. I drink her sounds of lust. She

needs relief.

For a moment I'm tempted to stop her

movements. I'm tempted to deny her release.

I'm tempted to punish her. I'm angry at her.

She left me behind. I understand her

motivations. I am proud of her. My brave

friend. Still, I can't ignore the rage trapping my

guts.

A terrible sob escapes from her throat.

Brina knows me too well. She senses the

tension in my muscles. I brush my lips across

her cheeks, her jaw, her chin. I press my hand

on her ass and I begin to guide her movements.

“Let go. I'm here. I love you,” I murmur.

Her body sways, squirms and shimmies

sensually against mine. I barely contain my

own orgasm as she wails and shakes in my

arms.

I pet her hair and caress her back, until she

quiets down. Then I push her gently away from

me, and I rise. She stares up at me. I look

down at her. Still on her knees, she licks her

swollen lips. The taste of her lipstick lingers in

my mouth.

“Let's go to Neal's place,” I tell her. “I want

to fuck you.”

The Berlin night is a lavish drape, and the city

lights are its embedded gemstones.

Inside the small studio apartment the

expensive furniture surrounds our naked

bodies. The open windows allow the summer

air in. The warm currents graze my heated skin

and paint goosebumps on Brina's frame. The

flickering candles cast a timid glow over our

limbs.

I gaze down at my my girl, reclining onto

the wooden floor. The lush brown forms a

perfect background for her milky-white skin.

She's my nude canvas.

With no clothes shielding her figure, I can

see that her hips are curvier and her breasts

fuller. An unsettling surge of ire and lust

clutches my chest and then claws at my

entrails.

When she left me behind, she took with her

fragments of my heart and my soul. I don't

want only those pieces back, I also yearn for

her whole soul and heart. I need to see her

dark eyes well up with longing and lust

because of me. I need to feel her tight body

quacking and coming apart in my arms. I want

her to know that I'm the only one capable of

catching her and keeping her safe.

“Touch yourself,” I rasp out.

A spark flashes in her moist eyes. Her breath

stammers. She cups her small, firm breasts in

her palms and kneads them gently, then she

teases her nipples with her fingertips. Tiny

mewls escape from her parted lips. So

complaisant. So exquisite.

I wrap my fingers around my hard cock and I

stroke it. Brina's eyes focus on my movements.

I groan with satisfaction.

“Spread your legs. Touch your pussy,” I

order.

Brina wails and hesitates. Her hands cease

their motions.

“Do it, Brina,” I urge.

She bends her legs, then she parts them,

showing me her pink and wet folds. One of her

hands glides down her chest, her abdomen,

until it reaches her groin. Her trembling

fingers delve into her dark curls and find her

clit. As she touches it, her hips rock upward.

She closes her eyes and she moans my name.

I fall on my knees between her parted legs.

I watch Brina pleasure herself and I begin to

fuck my own hand with more vigor. Hot tingles

of lust course along my spine.

“Stop,” I hiss.

We both follow my command. Brina opens

her eyes and stares at my face.

“I want you on your hands and knees. I want

to take you from behind.” My harsh words burn

my throat.

Brina's gaze brims with tears. Her limbs

shake. A cold fist seizes my heart and squeezes

it. I let go of my erection and I open my arms.

“Come her,” I say huskily.

She sits up, then she launches herself into

my embrace.

“I would never hurt you. You know that,

right?” I ask her, even as I slide my fingers

through her long, silky hair.

“I know.” She kisses my neck. Her tears