Chapter Seven
As the taxi cab took us back to the condo on the twelfth floor where so much in my life seemed to center around, my hand rested in Brahm's own. His long fingers coiled around my knuckles as his thumb grazed my palm, and it seemed so strange that such a simple gesture could rush chills through me.
This cab driver wasn't as chatty as the older man we had before, but the radio was on, and that seemed to prevent idle chit-chat still further. Glancing to and from Brahm, he was looking out the window as though lost in his own thoughts. The curve of his eyebrow raised in a furrowed fidget that he seemed to do all the time. I wondered what he was thinking of, and if it had anything to do with where my mind was pressing to.
The fancy foil swan felt like a living bird in my hand from the heat of our dinner leftovers, and it made me uncomfortable to look down at my hand holding it. As though the cost of this meal was enough to spare the lives of countless birds, and it had been wasted on me. What was I but a city pigeon sitting next to a black swan?
As it often happened, droplets of rain started to fall down from the heavens now, sliding along the car windows with silent murmurs that distracted me from turning my head.
Nervous as I was, my hand wasn't shaking anymore. It didn't shake so much once I'd decided on a course of action, and that action gave me enough peace to relax.
My eyes stole a glance at Brahm, he still looked out the window – admiring the rain pensively. His thumb still grazed my palm, but I didn't move my hand to return the gentle caresses. Even that would burn me, and I didn't want to burn too fast and so hard that my candle would be spent.
It wasn't a question of there not being a burn, or not being lit, only of how long it would be until the candle ran out. I decided I wanted it to last, last for however long Brahm wanted to let me stay with him.
Glancing down at the dress he had bought me – secondhand but in good condition – the lacy black ruffles that dipped down to my knees seemed like fancy occasion wear. I didn't feel like myself, probably because I had dressed for his tastes instead of mine. Or no, this was a compromise between what he liked and what I had always worn. As though this dress made me a different person, one I wasn't sure if I liked yet.
The reasons for picking it vexed me, not just because I wanted to impress him – that was natural with anyone. I chose this dress because I thought it would be comfortable if…If something else happened tonight when we got back to the twelfth floor.
And now, I didn't think I could go through with it.
My mind still raced with every sensation, with the soreness, and the bliss.
But it was mostly the pain. When the pleasure melted away, I was left with the feeling that Brahm had done what he did mostly to please me, and it was not an even give and take. He's so easily thought I felt forced to give of myself, and I didn't understand now why that hurt me so badly. Was it as I assumed, and he just had strong insecurities about himself, or did he think so poorly of me that I would feel the need to give myself for no reason but personal security.
I could only hope it was the first, but anxiety tugged at me toward the second.
When we got back to his house, surely we could talk about it – but until then I was on edge.
The car pulled to a stop near his condo, and he paid with a blue and silver card – the one he'd used on everything today. I was good at memorizing numbers, not that I planned on taking his information, but in case he ever lost it I could help be of use to find it.
"Is this a full stop, or are we unloading?"
The cab driver gestured behind him to the large white bag with clothes and shoes that sat on the floorboard near my feet.
"We're fine, thanks," Brahm mentioned as he unleashed my hand and took my bag. Exiting on the side of the street while I dismounted from the other side. Unlike earlier, he didn't immediately move his hand to clutch my own. When my hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a few seconds, I dropped it.
"Got everything?" The cab driver asked as I closed the door.
"Yes, thank you," I said politely before the cab drove away and it was just Brahm and I near the Condominium complex.
Watching him type in the four numbers I had memorized, when the door opened he reached out for my hand. I took it and we entered, about to walk to the elevator or the stairs when a voice distracted our journey.
"Hold up, Klein," spoke a burly voice, and fear stabbed my chest until I saw that the voice belonged to a well-kept man in a suit who seemed to work here.
"Hm?" Brahm said, as though this wasn't a normal occurrence for him.
The doorman moved to grab something from the drawer nearest to his hand, and it seemed to be a note of some kind.
Brahm took the piece of paper and opened it, and I read over his arm. The words unsettled me, not knowing the context. Was this a private joke? I hoped it was as I looked up to Brahm's face.
Do you dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?
Brahm seemed more disturbed than I was, and he looked at both sides of the note several times before he shoved it into his pocket. "Charles, who gave you this?"
The doorman gave a nervous shrug. "Some gentleman in a leather vest. He said it was imperative that you get that note, said you dropped it in some alley?"
My face went white, and I could see the blood draining from Brahm's face as he squeezed my hand too tightly. I didn't care, the pain seemed to keep me in the moment. Silently my fingers squeezed his harder.
Desperate to remember what I was trying to forget, I realized that one of them had worn a leather coat – the one Brahm had hit over the head with a bottle.
How did he find us here?! We hadn't been out all day yesterday, and he had been unconscious when we left the alley. He couldn't have followed us home.
With fear I looked at Brahm, seeing the same panic in his eyes, as he looked away from me and back to the confused doorman.
"Charles – if you see him again, call the police. Don't let him in the complex," Brahm demanded.
Charles swallowed uncomfortably. "Is there something I need to know?"
"He's just a danger, Charles. He threatened my friend, and I think if he had the chance, he'd pull a gun on others."
Charles seemed both concerned and suspicious of this being an exaggeration. Charles looked at the panic on my face, the trepidation of Brahm stiff and shaking beside me, and seemed to realize this wasn't some kind of teenage prank. "I'll leave a note for the night staff."
"Thank you, Charles. Let us know if he comes by again. Do – not – tell him which condo is ours," Brahm vexed in a commanding tone of voice.
Charles didn't like it. "Of course, Mr. Klein. Did you need anything else, today?"
Brahm shook his head and tugged me, and we were dragged toward the elevator so fast that I felt a little breathless from the suddenness of jogging.
The button of the elevator was slammed harder than it needed to be, and our eyes met as Brahm turned his head to me.
Thousands of fear-laced questions burned in his eyes, but we couldn't speak with Charles listening.
Only when we had rushed into the elevator and closed the door all the way, did Brahm turn to me and pull out the note. The paper crinkling as he did so.
"Please tell me you know what this means," I pleaded as he grimaced.
"You don't know?"
"No," I shook my head anxiously, reading the lines again.
'Do you dance with the devil in the pale moonlight'.
"It's from Batman – the Joker says it before he kills Bruce's parents."
My face was blank, before it paled.
It was a murder threat, and the thought of someone coming in here and pulling a gun on us terrified me. "H-How did they find out where we are?"
Brahm shook his head; disturbed at the notion so much that a vein tugged along his throat from the stress. "I don't know, I'm wracking my brain."
I couldn't bear to see him suffer like this, if he couldn't cope then how could I? I didn't mean to squeeze him so hard, but I almost ran the two steps to him and clutched my arms tightly around his waist.
"Someone else must have been there, someone must have told him or followed us…"
He shook his head. "I didn't see anyone else out that night, did you?"
"No," I almost whispered; slowly shaking my head over and over as though that could help me think.
His arms clutched me to his body, so tightly that it hurt my chest, before he let go enough that I could breathe again. My stomach lurched from the elevator, the sudden stop made me waver dizzily in Brahm's arms.
He hit the button to keep the elevator door from opening, and I was grateful for it. Watching his face, it was clear that the wheels in his head were turning.
I didn't move, for fear that if I did it might break his concentration as I watched him gaze behind me. To the wall, no, beyond it to his own thoughts.
Suddenly he grabbed me, the bag fell from his hands to the floor, and his fingers squeezed my shoulders so hard that I couldn't move.
"The soda! I bought a soda from that corner store – the receipt was in the bag I left."
"The soda?" I panicked, unable to make the connection. "Did the receipt have your name on it?"
"No – but a guy from my school works there – Fred Wheaton." Panic laced his voice, anger burning through the texture of his words as he almost growled and carefully breathed to try and get a hold of himself. His hands left my shoulders, and I reacted by reaching for his hands and squeezing them.
"He's dumber than a bag of rocks – if some guy showed him the receipt and claimed to know me..."
My face paled all over again, and his face contorted with vexation as the elevator door opened and he bent to grab my bag and hurry me out the door.
"S-So you think that Fred-" I started to mumble in the hall, but he stopped and put his hand over my mouth.
"Shh, not here."
I nodded, and Brahm found his keys and opened the door to rush us inside before he said more to me. Only speaking once the locks were in place and we saw that the house was clean, but otherwise undisturbed.
"It's only a possibility – I can't think of another way that they'd know."
I only realized then that I was shaking, and I didn't think of the white bag of clothes and shoes being shoved in the corner as I sank down to my knees in fear.
Brahm slid down to join me, sitting across from me with his hands moving to hold mine with the same care and affection as an older brother.
"This could be a sick joke from Fred for all I know, this might not be related at all," Brahm tried to encourage me, but I didn't believe it. I didn't generally have that kind of good fortune. When he leaned up to stand again and grabbed the phone on the receiver, I hugged my cross-crossed legs to my chest and unconsciously swayed back and forth from nerves.
I watched my taller guardian punch in a series of digits into the phone before he put the phone against his head.
Those fifteen or so seconds before Brahm spoke could have shattered the earth.
"Hi – is Fred there? No? Oh, sorry," Brahm said nervously before the phone clicked and the off button. I saw him flipping through some book by the wall phone on a little table. An address book that he flipped several times back and forth until he found a number and dialed it in.
Another fifteen seconds, max, and Brahm spoke again.
"Hey, is this Kayla?"
A voice I couldn't eavesdrop spoke back, it sounded young and feminine. "Hey Kayla, great to talk to you...uh, listen...I'm trying to get in touch with Fred. You don't still happen to have his number do you?"
Brahm grimaced, and it sounded like the female voice was agitated. "I know, I'm sorry to dredge up ancient history, it's really important though."
I heard a loud sigh on the other end, before Brahm looked at me with something of an uneasy smile. "Thanks Kayla, I'm sorry to bother you."
Whatever it was that Kayla mumbled before she left to fetch the number made Brahm grimace again. I stood up from the carpet and walked to him as he paced, but I couldn't bring myself to hold him. Not when he clearly needed to move to think and he would need to take notes in a second.
I just watched him like a ghost in his living room. Waiting in silence to try and hear all I could when Kayla spoke into the phone again and he scribbled down three different numbers.
"Thanks, Kayla, I know – he's a scumbag, I'll grill him when I call, okay?" Brahm joked like he wasn't as petrified as I was. He clicked the 'end call' button after nodding several times, only to look at me.
His eyes found my own easily, and we both stared at each other in silence before he mumbled to me. "Hang on, going to try and reach him."
I nodded, but he wasn't looking at me anymore.
Trying two of the numbers, the second one seemed to be the right one, but no one had answered based on the message Brahm left:
"Hey, Fred, this is Brahm from school. Listen, I really need you to call me. My number's" – he mumbled his number into the phone as clearly as he could – "call me as soon as you get home. It's really important."
Brahm pushed the end call button then, and I heard the phone click on the receiver before he came over to hold me. Neither of us realizing that the answering machine was glowing in faint beeps of light. His arms moved around me softly, and I stood on my tip-toes to nestle my cheek into his chest.
A deep sigh broke from his lips, and I realized I'd been holding my breath until he exhaled against me. "We were going to do something before all this..."
"We were?"
I didn't see it, but I could feel that he nodded from the way his chest flexed against my cheek. "You wanted to see a movie, do you still want to watch something?"
"Oh," I'd forgotten all about that, the note still bothered me. "Is there anything else we can do to make Fred call us faster?"
He chuckled dryly. "I really don't know him that well, besides calling his work, I don't think so."
I nodded softly. "Do you think that would help?"
He shrugged. "It could, but we'll need to look through the phone book for the number."
Having a goal, I relaxed and offered something of a smile up to him. "I can do that, if you want to pick out something to watch? At least until he calls us back."
Brahm nodded as his arms slowly pulled from me, and I was strangely comforted by his reluctance to move away from me. Even if he was just concerned of me.
"What are you in the mood for?"
I didn't know, just blushed at his choice of words before I went to the phone book and opened it. "What is the store called?"
"Jim's corner store, I think," I grimaced, not having paid any attention to what was on the streets near here besides where I was told to snoop around. I had never been to this part of the city at night before, and during the day I avoided convenience stores. Places like Wal-Mart or the dollar-tree were better places to shop from when you had a tiny budget.
Flipping through pages, absentmindedly seeing Brahm looming over a row filled with dvds and VCR movies, I read until I found a business page that seemed to be what I had been looking for. Watching Brahm fuss over a movie like a normal teenager, I grimaced and dialed the number. Walking into the kitchen at the other end of the room to call the number. I was only doing a favor, right? Besides, the worst thing they could say is 'no'.
Ring, Ring, Ring,
"Hi, thanks for calling Jim's Corner Store, this is Debbie."
I swallowed, looking away from Brahm's back at the far side of the open-concept room. "Hey there, is Fred working there tonight?"
The voice seemed very uncomfortable when she spoke. "uh, no, did you want me to leave him a message?"
I bit my lip, watching Brahm set up the TV far off. "Um, no, he must be on his way home."
"Is this Kayla? The boss told you not to call here anymore."
Who – was – this Fred, anyway?
"Oh, no, I'm not Kayla, but never-mind. Thanks for your time," I said as I turned off the phone and walked back to plug it into the wall receiver.
"Fred's not working today," I said, and Brahm turned around with some surprise before he nodded.
"Nothing else we can do, then," he mused. "Come, sit,"
I moved to sit by him on the couch; leaning my head against the back of the sofa. He moved a little, to sit just a few inches beside me, as the remote in his hands flickered the DVD to life.
He didn't drag me into his lap when the dvd main menu began to load, but I noticed his arm was sprawled over the back of the couch behind me, and with something of a smile I found myself scooting a bit closer to him.
"What are we watching?"
He only smirked at me as he hit 'play' and I saw nothing but black shining out from the screen. Blue words lit up the darkness as the credits began to roll, and the title was immediately apparent to me.
The Princess Bride, one of the most popular romantic 'cult' movies there was.
Looking to the boy poorly hiding an amused smirk beside me, I chuckled at him before I leaned into his shoulder and set my eyes on the screen. I hadn't seen this movie in years; but, it had a music that was soothing and I was grateful he'd picked this than a Disney movie. Though, with one glance at the DVD library, I realized there were almost no Disney movies in their library. Usually people kept those from their childhood, and I wondered for a moment if that meant that Brahm didn't spent his youth here. The condo looked too new, too pristine to be lived in the way that the grandfather and boy in this movie seemed to share. As though the connection of family love was absent.
Maybe I was reading too much into that, but I had always had a mind that tended to wander to the most ridiculous of things, and thankfully the plot of the movie was interesting enough to keep us motivated in watching it.
At one point, after Buttercup was kidnapped, Brahm's hand moved around my shoulder to squeeze me lightly against his side. But, he didn't push me, or try to kiss me. He seemed to be looking at me sometimes, as though wondering whether or not to try to, and to be honest I probably had the same curiosity on my face when I peeked at him after he stopped peeking at me. Trying to avoid his eye contact if only because I knew the effect his piercing eyes had on me.
One might think that last night hadn't happened, and it was easy to pretend that it hadn't happened right now. My free hand rested sleepily on my thigh as our eyes took in the argument between the pirate and Buttercup after he let her rest on the rock.
'And what is that worth, the promise of a woman? You're very funny, highness,' Wesley laughed on the screen.
'I was giving you a chance, it does not matter where you take me. There is no greater hunter than Prince Humperdink. He can track a Falcon on a cloudy day, he can find you.'
'You think your 'dearest love' will save you?'
Buttercup looked offended at the term. 'I never said he was my 'dearest love'. And yes, he – will – save me; that I know.'
'You admit to me you do not love your fiance?'
She looked repugnant. 'He knows I do not love him.'
'-Incapable- of love is what you mean,' Wesley sneered.
Buttercup rose, and I felt all the anguish of such an accusation being told to a woman when she spoke.
'I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream!'
The pirate Wesley's hand rose, as though to smack her in the face, and she flinched – but from natural instinct, not from fear.
'That was a warning, highness. The next time my hand flies on its own, where I come from there are penalties when a woman lies.'
After a scene of Prince Humperdink finding traces of Iocane powder, the scene returned to Buttercup and the pirate.
Brahm has his arm around my shoulders still, but his fingers were lightly tumbling into my hair. My eyes flickered from the screen to look at him; but, Brahm's eyes were on the TV, so I looked back to the screen.
Wesley in disguise practically tossed Buttercup on a rock.
'Rest, highness.'
She panted, watching him. 'I know who you are – your cruelty reveals everything," her brow furrowed. 'You're the Dread Pirate Roberts – admit it!'
'With pride!' He bowed. 'What can I do for you?'
Venom filled her face. 'You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces,'
'Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Hardly complimentary your highness, why do you spew venom on me?'
'You killed my love.'
'Possible, I kill a lot of people.'
Brahm chuckled, and I offered one myself.
'Who was this Love of yours? Another Prince like this one? Ugly, rich, and scabby?'
'No! A farmboy! Poor! Poor and perfect. With eyes like the sea after a storm… On the high seas your ship attacked! And the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.'
I saw movement in the corner of my eye, and I turned to see Brahm gazing at me. His eyes pensive and peaceful as he took in my gaze.
As dangerous as it was to look into his eyes, I couldn't look away now, and the movie kept playing without me paying any attention to it. No words were spoken as I admired his face under the soft glow of the TV. The light left on from earlier was smaller now that the sun had fully set, and in the less obnoxious sheen I admired every little freckle hidden in his face. Only enough to add dimension to his skin, they were barely there and if one wasn't squinting they might not even notice them.
His eyes never left mine, and his gaze was as intense as the midnight sun. I don't know why my eyes started to water when he kept looking at my face, only that I felt a surge of emotion and pain that rose up within me. Fear that caused a little lump to resurface in my throat. He didn't look away from me, even with my discomfort, and I didn't want him to.
I just hoped, hoped so strongly for something I couldn't even formulate into a rational thought – much less voice it. His eyes shined in the shadows, reading whatever it was he was searching for in our shared eyes as he leaned closer.
So slowly, tentatively, he pressed his lips against my own. Testing the waters, it would seem, like he thought I wouldn't kiss him again. Fear stabbed me, but I returned the gentle pressure. My hunger wasn't here, not now, not while he terror of being found was so fresh in my mind. I could bear one horror, but not two at once.
When I continued to gaze into his eyes, our lips scant inches apart, he closed the distance. In the soft sound of the movie playing, the tussle of movement on the couch, I leaned my hands up to cup his face and gently press my lips to his own again.
Softly, he sucked against my bottom lip – but as one might nuzzle a petal or a feather. The taste of his mouth and the warmth of his skin was so easing to me. Like melting into a warm bath, or dipping into a state of physical shock that rendered all listening to the movie impossible. I heard only the breath from his nose, the gleam of shine over his dark eyes, the way his brow furrowed in focus.
He seemed to be waiting for me to rush my lips against his own in hunger, or for me to say something or do something, but my heart was still. If only to try and protect myself, because I knew in the back of my mind that what I felt was illogical. The way my body shivered as a response to only the pads of his fingers on my cheek was irrational and overwhelming to my logical self.
Pain seemed to mark his eyes as he studied my own, and I squeezed my calloused fingers against his jawline to try and reassure him that I wanted him.
He did not press his mouth roughly to my own, though the determination marking his face made me believe he was going to.
"Bree, I need to...ask you something."
Terror mildly stabbed my chest – sharp pain shooting through me at the texture of his voice when he spoke.
"Alright," I nearly gasped from anxiety.
In fear I leaned away, if only a little, to sit against the back of the couch again and look at him. He leaned back in his side of the couch, his arm moving to turn down the volume on the TV. His eyes burned when they looked to mine, but from irritation or anger than the type of hunger that had been in his eyes last night.
I expected him to spout it out quickly; but, Brahm moved his left hand to brush against my face and cup my chin up so I couldn't look down from him. Whatever he wanted to ask, he needed to see the answer in my eyes. So scared of showing weakness, I struggled by looking at the wall before I mustered the courage to meet his gaze again.
"Do you..." The words died in his mouth.
I started to chew a hole in my lip when he hesitated.
"…Regret, last night?"
The question had been so smack-dab to the point that my eyes widened. With surprise, with fear, with truth, I didn't know – but his gaze was guarded as he looked into mine. As though he feared my answer too, and was trying hard not to show it either.
Thinking critically, did I? I felt I knew the answer, but to be fair to myself I needed to search my soul to be sure I had the whole picture. As my mind wandered deeper to the facts I didn't want to face, my eyes watered, and I felt his thumbs gently caress under my eyes.
"Bree?" He pressed, and I had no idea how long I was taking to answer him – but it must have been a long while.
"I-I heard you," I sputtered, and his face seemed to recoil as though I had struck him. "Its just not as easy for me to be as blunt as you are."
"Tell me," he commanded, even though it didn't feel like a command, and for whatever reason I had to listen to his pleading tone.
"I regret some things, I feel foolish for others."
His eyes contorted with worry. "What do you regret the most?"
Swallowing, to no avail, the lump grew heavier in my throat. "That you said I could only want you b-because I felt like I had to please you to stay here."
Now it was Brahm who appeared struck, but in his sorrow he looked angry, and I saw him build an almost cold wall to conceal his emotions. Even as I saw that his eyes were still the same look of glistening anguish from my answer.
"So you aren't...mad, that we..." He struggled for a word. "Kissed."
My face instantly coloring, despite the pain what was radiating inside me, I shook my head. "I'm not mad at you," I whispered and wished I hadn't.
He leaned in then, brushing his lips against the bridge of my nose before he looked into my eyes again. "Tell me," he beckoned, so desperately, and I could not refuse him.
"I-I can't blame you, for thinking I'm cheap, when I was...when I-"
His hand covered my mouth then, his lips soon replacing the fingers he had shushed me with in a hungered pleading of his body. My mouth was my enemy, my own body controlled by a succubus as I groaned in a weeping against his lips.
We kissed so roughly that I couldn't breathe, and when I gasped through my nose for air he broke away to sternly watch me. "Don't ever say that again."
"W-What do you mean?"
"Don't say that you're cheap, that I could think you're cheap – you're not," his face was a snarl of embitterment as he spoke.
I looked down from his face in shame, but he only pressed my face just hard enough for me to be forced to look at his eyes again. "You're not cheap – say it."
"I'm...not cheap," I responded, feeling inordinately ridiculous to say that out loud, but I couldn't bear not to speak it openly when his eyes were so demanding.
His mouth crashed against my own, just hard enough to make that shameful noise break from my lips against his flesh. His kisses consumed me, but he kept his body distant from mine. Outside of our hands and mouths, his body was a respectful distance as though we could return to casually watching the movie at any time.
I knew we couldn't, but I needed to hear his answer before anything further could happen between us.
"If you don't think I'm cheap, what do you think of me?"
His eyes pooled with anguish again, but he did not kiss me to rid the moment of that question. "I think the very best of you, Bree, and I don't want to make – you – feel used."
Gazing at his eyes to search for truth, I saw no deception; only earnest burning."I don't want to get hurt."
"I know," his tone was pained.
"B-But I'm also scared...that I can't let you go anymore..." Fear rushed through me at how easily I had confessed that out loud; and yet, my fears numbed when his mouth found my own. In a flurry of soft, fast, kisses he was over me – laying together on the couch with his shoulders hunched over me like a hunting mountain lion.
Roused and unable to deny how badly I needed him to just lay close to me; I wrapped my arms and legs around him and Brahm whispered a groan softly against my lips.
"Then don't," He said simply, his hands running through my hair as I felt his body rest over my own. My ruffled dress was hiked up just from being in the posture we were in; but, I didn't care. I felt his hand grasp my bare lower thigh near my knee – and with a shuddered breath of surprise, I felt his hand glide down.
"Brahm, I-"
My heart had swelled with need, the need I felt all over my body to be close to this boy I knew I was falling in love with.
In a rush of sudden bravery, I had been about to confess that to him, when a sound shattered our moment.
Ring, Ring, Ring.
It was the phone, and we gazed at each other with mutual regret and despair as he reluctantly moved from me and hurriedly approached the phone.
As I watched, Brahm's back tensed as though someone had given him the worst imaginable news.
