Into My Heart An Air that Kills - Brahms Heelshire The Boy

Chapter 7 - A Hurricane

Finding Brahms something to wear wasn't easy. Laurie pawed through the Heelshire's wardrobes but nothing would fit his frame..at least not properly. In the end, she settled for a another singlet, this time black and clean, a pair of what looked like old khaki combat pants with hems she could rip down and a ribbed sweater in midnight blue. Underwear? she told herself. For Christ's sake, Laurie, he can sort that himself!

She laid the clothes on the bed, staring sadly at the coverlet. She still couldn't quite grasp what had happened here. The Heelshire's must have planned this for ages, if not years. How must it have felt to grow older and older knowing that a time was coming where they wouldn't be able to care for and protect Brahms any longer? What torture that must have been! What if it was my child, she thought. Would I have done the same? No. She'd have sought help for her son years before when he most needed it. She wouldn't have behaved like Margaret Heelshire either, nor been as weak as Richard, but her heart ached for them both anyway...and for Brahms who'd clearly been damaged by their love. "God forgive you, indeed," Laurie murmured.

She found Brahms sitting on his bed in the robe she'd given him. "I've laid out some clothes for you in your father's room. You just need to sort out some...underwear."

He nodded compliantly. Then rose to do her bidding.

~

"Brahms, I need to ask you. Where did you put Joel?"

They were downstairs preparing lunch...well, she was while Brahms sat and watched her in his usual silent way. "Brahms?"

"In the cellar."

Laurie raised her brows, she'd expected him to show her, not speak. "Take me there, I need to see him. We can't just leave him down there."

Brahms stood and loitered in the doorway. He looked much better, more normal. She'd let down the hems on the pants so they weren't flapping around his ankles and he smelt much better. She wished he'd wear the sweater though. That singlet just made her hot under the collar!

Brahms led her downstairs. The cellars were several anterooms, fed by a central T shaped corridor. Laurie braced herself as Brahms slid the bolt free on one of the doors. But she had to see his body.  Oh, God, we'll have to bury --

Joel sat crouched in one corner of the darkened chamber, very much alive. He spat one sentence at her, spittle flying. "You cunt!"

"Jesus, Joel!" She went to step into the room but Brahms held out an arm and blocked her way. He positioned his body slightly in front of hers.

"Are you hurt?" she asked lamely.

"Hurt?" Joel shrieked. "Of course I'm fuckin' hurt! Look what this freak did to me!" But he didn't move to strike Brahms and for the first time in her life, Laurie saw Joel truly afraid.

"I told you to leave," Laurie said. "I warned you. What time is your flight?"

"10.30 tonight."

"Then you'll be on it. Brahms, we need to let him go."

To her surprise Brahms stepped away from the door, but not before he'd guided her with him still protectively placing himself between her and Joel. Joel glowered at them then rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Go." Brahms's voice was low and threatening, and Joel had the sense not to argue. He all but ran up the cellar steps. At the front door he turned and glowered at Laurie. "You'll regret this. You'll end up hog tied in that fuckin' cellar yourself one day, mark my words."