by Rose, Aubrey
"Hello?"
There was no response, and he pushed the door all the way open. Right in front of him, mounted on the hallway wall, was a photograph of Brynn and her grandmother.
"Guess this is the place," he said, closing the door behind him. He stepped over to examine the photo, flicking on the hallway light. Brynn was younger...not by much, but definitely younger by the look in her eyes, sitting in front of a cherry upright piano. The woman he decided must be her grandmother sat next to her in the photo. Her hair was a pure untinted white, the long braid swung over the front of her shoulder. They sat with shoulders touching, their hands poised over the keys as though they were just about to play the first note.
Eliot moved into the living room, and he saw the piano from the photo. Pictures hung all over the walls. Most of them were of Brynn and her grandmother. As he walked toward the piano and sat down, he saw another photo in a frame on the side table immediately adjacent to the piano bench. He picked it up.
The picture showed Brynn when she was only a child, holding onto the hand of another woman. Not the grandmother, this one. Eliot realized that the woman must be Brynn's mother.
A wave of emotion shuddered him, and his fingers trembled as he put the photo back into place. He'd seen a picture of one of the killer's victims before leaving Hungary. It hadn't been intentional. Someone had left a tabloid in the airport, and he'd happened to glance at the photo and headline—NEW PICTURES OF BRUTAL SERIAL KILLER VICTIMS—before crumpling the paper in his hand and throwing it into the trash. He didn't know what Brynn had seen at the police station, but if it was anything even close to what he'd seen in the paper, he understood why she'd been waking up screaming in the middle of the night.
He touched the piano keys softly at first. The piano needed a tuning, but the imperfect notes still told a beautiful story. The strings were old and worn, though when plucked they sang out with depth. His fingers moved over the keys more confidently, though his vision was blurring with unshed tears. This room told a story of love that reached back generations, one that he could feel in his heart when the music fluttered through him. He did not know whether he would be able to offer that same kind of love to his children. He wanted to, but his family relationships had been torn apart by more than the accident that caused Clare's death.
Still, here...
The tears in his eyes welled as he thought of Brynn, and imagined her future without him. He imagined his future without her, and it seemed hollow and as cold as the snowy night he had first met her. He'd been too stubborn, he knew. Too willing to give up when he should have fought for her love. Too focused on the unnecessary, without seeing the possibilities that lay right in front of him. If he could do it again, he'd do it differently. He'd take the time to let Brynn know how much she meant to him. He'd care for her unconditionally. And she might take pity on him enough to forgive him. A tear escaped the corner of his eye and fell onto the keys, but it was not a tear of grief.
Everyone we love dies. We would die someday, too. At times Eliot had wished it for himself. Today, though, a golden ray of possibility shone through the clouds, the possibility of forgiveness for his past sins. He played on, letting the notes take him off into a world of music. Only a creaking of the floorboards caused him to stop playing.
He turned and saw Brynn standing only a few feet away in the doorway, her curves sheathed in black crepe fabric. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but in them, there was something more than forgiveness.
There was love.
"Eliot?" Her voice was curiously uncertain as she stepped forward toward the piano.
"My dear," Eliot said, and held out his hand. And, to his everlasting surprise, she took it.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Brynn
“There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.”
Maya Angelou
Eliot took my hand, and my whole body shivered. He guided me forward and I slid next to him on the piano bench.
"Do you remember how we met?" Eliot asked.
"It was so cold that night," I said.
"You were so kind to me. Even though I looked like a bum."
I flushed.
"I did not say you looked like a bum. You said you looked like a bum!"
"So I did. Well, and I did look like a bum. Honestly."
He hadn't kissed me yet, and I wondered what he was doing, sitting next to me, holding my hand. The pain in my heart was mixed now with an uncertainty that made me pause before every sentence I uttered. I ran my finger along the top of Nagyi's piano. A thin coating of dust came off, and I flicked it away from my fingers. The light from outside the window caught the flecks of dust and made them sparkle as they fell, twirling, to the ground.
"It's not tuned," I said, to fill the silence. Eliot still held my hand warmly between us. "She quit playing years back."
"But you didn't quit playing."
"I played at school. I didn't want her to waste any money on me."
"This isn't that bad," Eliot said, playing through the first few notes of the Gymnopedie with his left hand. The chords rang out, dust twinkling through the notes as the old strings vibrated back to life. The dissonant notes of Satie sounded strangely in tune.
"It works," I said, slightly surprised.
"Yes," he said. "It works quite well."
I didn't know what to do. Eliot seemed to be perfectly happy sitting and chatting about nothing at all. And all the while, his hand was moving slightly against mine, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. It burned through me, sending fire through my body. If he didn't know what he was doing, he should have.
"Stop," I said. "Please stop."
"Stop what?" Eliot turned to me, his eyes bright with tears. Did he know? Did he?
"Stop tormenting me! You've come all the way over here for this?"
"Torment you?" Eliot's face was a picture of confusion.
"I thought that I wouldn't ever see you again. I—I thought—" I choked the words through my tears. I pulled my hand away from Eliot and covered my face.
"I'm sorry. Brynn, I'm so sorry." He clasped my shoulders and I put my hands down on my lap, raising my eyes to see his expression. He looked at me so intense with emotion that I felt my heart could burst at any minute.
"Why didn't you come before?"
"You told me not to come to her funeral," Eliot said, his hands sliding down to take mine once again. "I didn't know if you truly meant it, but I thought I'd rather not risk the wrath of a princess."
A princess. I wasn't a princess. I thought once that I was an adventurous warrior, a woman who could face any monster and come out strong. It had taken less than a year for me to lose everything that I had been struggling for. A flash of irritation made me upset with Eliot. He should know better than to tease me.
"Then why did you come?" I asked. "Why did you come at all?"
"Because," Eliot said, raising my hand to his lips, "You did not bar me from the state of California."
I trembled. His lips were hot against my skin.
"Tell me to leave and I will leave," Eliot said. "But I could not help but follow you here."
"Should I tell you to leave?" I asked fiercely, my desire twisting with my anger and sadness. "You deserve someone different. Someone less broken."
"I deserve someone who will live with me in happiness," Eliot said.
"Yes," I said. I said nothing more.
"Well, then," Eliot said, "that is unfortunate for you."
"Unfortunate?" I swallowed hard.
"There is only one creature on this earth who will make me happy, and that beautiful creature is you."
He leaned forward to kiss me, and when his lips pressed against mine I kissed him back with a passion that I had not known was inside of me. In the kiss was all of my longing, my frustration, my desperate desire to find someone who cared for me as much as I cared for them. And in his thirsty lips, I found an answering plea. Eliot loved me, I was sure. A part of me broke free from th
e darkness that had been clouding my life and floated upward, reaching out.
"Eliot..." my voice trailed off as my mind traced another thought. I squeezed Eliot's hands sharply as the thought materialized.
"The board! Did you do your presentation?"
"Yes. No. It doesn't matter," Eliot said.
"But what happened?"
"I left. I'm publishing the paper on my own. They can have their Academy. I'm finished."
"Finished?" I looked at him in shock. "You won't do math again?"
"Oh heavens no! Not at all! Oh Brynn, I could never stop doing math!" He smiled.
I put my hand on my chest.
"Whew. You scared me for a moment there."
"I'll always love discovering new parts of that universe, I'm afraid. I'll still attend conferences, I suppose, and lectures. But I don't need the prestige of the Academy. I don't need to be published. I'll let others take the credit.” With that Eliot tilted his head towards me in a knowing look.
"Others?" I didn't get his hint.
"You, Brynn, have inspired me to produce my best work."
I shook my head.
"No—" I began.
"I've already submitted the paper with your name as co-author, through your university. It will be published in the fall."
"Why?"
"Oh, come, don't look so shocked. It's been done before many times. When someone with no connection to the academic world puts out a result—"
"But you are connected—"
"Not anymore. I'm done. Academia...eh, it's not necessary for me."
"So I will be able to graduate? I talked to the dean—"
"I talked to her, too," Eliot said. "She was impressed with my recommendation, and I think that you'll find every credit for your degree is in order."
"Oh, Eliot!" I threw my arms around his neck and nearly choked him to death with a tight hug. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me against his chest. I pulled away and kissed him again passionately. My grandmother had wanted me to graduate so badly. She'd been so proud... My throat hurt as I thought about what she would have said. And a published paper to top it off!
"Let's go away for a week," Eliot said. "Just us. Somewhere up the coast. I'll find us a cabin to rent and we can relax in private."
"That sounds wonderful," I said. The prospect of not being anywhere near a television screen or newspapers seemed immensely appealing.
"You seemed surprised to see me here," Eliot said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.
"I wasn't sure you'd follow me," I said softly.
"Always," Eliot said. His smile warmed me almost as much as his kiss. "You won't be able to get rid of me."
"That sounds wonderful," I said again. "And I promise this time I won't run away."
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Eliot
Eliot threw another log on the fire. Brynn had spent the early part of the morning off on a walk by the coast. They'd already spent the better part of the week at the remote campsite. The map showed that there was no other cabin in the area for miles, and Brynn had smiled when he'd told her that there were bears in the forest.
"They'll eat any photographers trying to take our picture," she said.
Her levity alternated with her sorrow in equal parts. Eliot gave her space when she asked for it, and comforted her when she wanted to be held in his arms. He knew that grief emerged from the unlikeliest of places, and so he did not press Brynn when she needed to cry. He, too, knew something about tears.
When Brynn came back to the cabin, the flames were just beginning to leap up over the edge of the rocks surrounding the fire pit. He was surprised when she took the sleeping bags out and began to lay them by the fireside.
"Are we sleeping outside tonight?" Eliot asked.
"No," Brynn said. "But I wanted to do this."
If he was surprised at sleeping outside, he was even more surprised when Brynn drew her hand down and began to undress him. He waited until she had unbuttoned his shirt completely before taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. Her hair smelled sweet, the scent mixing with campfire smoke. Her hands moved across his chest, her fingers tracing the scars. When he looked down, the firelight illuminated them so that they gleamed golden against his skin.
"Put back together like a patchwork," Eliot murmured.
"Put back together," Brynn said. "That's the important part."
Her hands slid farther down, and he inhaled as she tugged at the button of his jeans with one hand, pulling his head down into a hard kiss with the other. She moaned as she felt his hardness, and in response he became even more aroused. The primal growl of her voice as she tore off his pants made him want to throw her on the ground and take her like an animal.
He pulled off her jacket and she helped him, their movements growing faster and more urgent as their mouths moved against bodies ready to come together. When she dropped her underwear to the ground and looked up at him from under lidded eyes, he caught a breath. They stood for a second, both naked, staring at each other like Adam and Eve before the earth had filled with creatures. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I want you so badly," he said.
Her kiss ripped the breath from his throat. He gripped her tightly and they fell to the ground together, limbs already intertwining as he eased her back onto the sleeping bags. He kissed her neck from behind her ear down to her collarbone, then farther down. Her gasps mixed with the crackling of the flames, and he let his tongue slide over the shadows that her nipple cast across her chest. He moved himself so that he was positioned between her, his already throbbing cock pressed against her on the outside. He let the head of his member slide over her already slick folds, rubbing the swollen flesh only slightly. Back and forth, back and forth. Teasing her.
Her fingers dug into his skin and she moaned again, her desire so evident that his mouth went dry with want.
"Take me, Eliot," she whispered. "Please. Take me. Love me. I want you to love me."
"Always," Eliot said. "I'll always love you, Brynn."
He bent down and slid into her. Every inch of her tightened around him, and he worked his way into her heat slowly, rocking slightly as he entered.
"Ohhh," she moaned softly. "Ohh!"
Swollen and hungry, Eliot had to hold himself back. But when he kissed her on her neck, letting his tongue trace circles on her soft skin, she growled with ferocious, unguarded lust.
The sound tore through his will, and he thrust forward hard, pulling her against him and kissing her, stifling her gasp. Her hips tilted up and her legs wrapped around him. An aching pressure was building in his groin, and he could no longer keep from taking her body. He slid forward and back, letting himself indulge the deliciously slow agony for minutes. Brynn's whimpers grew louder and louder until it was too much. Her body grew damp with sweat underneath him from the fire and the exertion of self-control, and he, too, felt beads of sweat form at the hairline on his neck. Their skin gleamed as though they had been oiled up like ancient kings and queens.
She pulled away from him, her face only inches from his. Her full lips pressed together, wet and glistening in the light, and whispered a single word.
"More."
Eliot thrust hard into her then, meeting her effort with his and letting his passion drive him. He was beyond hard, past the point where he would normally have let himself slide over the edge, but this sensation was so fantastic that he wanted it to last forever. Every time he drove his swollen member into her slick folds, her fingers gripped his hips harder, pulling him in even farther. He bent over her body, making her wait for the next thrust, and grazed her nipple with his teeth. He was ready to burst, but he did not want her to be left behind.
The touch made her body shiver, and she arched her back against the ground. He could feel her body tighten and clench against him, and she threw her head from one side to another, her hair sweeping the pillow in wild fervor. The flames from the fire cast shadows across her face.
> He could no longer hold on. His groans joined hers as they both rode the wave of their love over into satisfaction, their bodies shuddering against each other in the fire's warmth. Brynn cried out once at the end, as he thrust again with a final shiver into her body.
Worn out, Eliot collapsed next to Brynn on the ground, his chest heaving. He could not hear anything but the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he felt dizzy.
Brynn reached out and touched his skin softly, as though it was shattered glass and she expected it to cut her fingers if she pressed too hard.
“Wait,” he said. He reached over to where his pants lay crumpled on the ground, and fished his fingers into the pocket. “I brought a present for you.”
"Eliot—"
Eliot lifted the necklace up in the air. The two diamonds glinted as the pendant twirled on the end of the delicate silver chain.
“My necklace!” Brynn cried. “You found it! Oh, Eliot!”
“And I have another present for you. But you’ll get it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? What is it?”
“That would defeat the point of waiting until tomorrow.”
“Tease,” Brynn said, smiling. “Tell me. Oh! Is it Lucky? Did you bring him here with you?”
“That damned cat,” Eliot said, shaking his head gravely before letting out a chuckle. “He followed me all the way to America and got thrown into animal quarantine. They won’t let him out for another two weeks. But don’t worry, he’ll be back to torment me soon, at least if he doesn’t have the plague.”
“That’s a relief. Will you put my necklace on?” Brynn asked.
She bent her head down as he laced the chain around her neck and fastened it. His fingers rested gently on her warm skin, stroking upward to her cheek.
"I will never leave you," Eliot said. "I will never hurt you, and I will never leave you. I love you."
"I love you, Eliot. Thank you."
That night he slept by her side. Her breathing was soft, and he held her close. For the first night in a long while, she did not wake up from any nightmares, and when he woke, she was still nestled by his side.
