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."

"Go Joel, and don't come back. I never want to see you again."

"You'd rather stay here with that?"

Laurie felt Brahms tense beside her and knew the reactor rods of his temper were being withdrawn. "You need to accept that it's over between me and you," she told Joel, trying to keep her voice calm. "You need to go because if you push Brahms too far, a hiding will be the least of your problems."

At last Joel seemed to get the message. He stormed from the house, slamming the door behind him. Laurie ran forwards and slid the bolts home. She leaned her back against the wood then stared across the hallway at Brahms. "Thank you, for your restraint, Brahms," she said quietly. Though his voice was slightly muffled through the mask, she heard him ask, "Are you alright, Laurie?"

She smiled. "Yes, I am. I'm so happy you didn't kill him, Brahms." She walked over to him and took his hand. "Will you help me clean the traps?"

~

That night she and Brahms listened to Pink Floyd together. He seemed to like the orchestral style of music more than anything with a more upbeat tempo. Laurie lay sprawled on the couch. Brahms sat in the armchair his father had always used. Still the mask stayed on.

She'd made them dinner but had to leave Brahms alone in the kitchen to eat his. Occasionally her eyes strayed to his burned feet and she remembered the scars on his hand and shoulders. As the music ended, she ask impulsively, "Do you remember how you got your burns?"

Brahms opened his eyes and stared at her. Laurie pushed him. "I'd like to know."

"I killed Emily so my mother tried to kill me."

"What happened?" she whispered.

"You already know. I heard Thomas telling you."

"He told me you and Emily went to play in the woods and she was found..."

"I hit her because she hit me," he said, his voice low and sullen. "I lost my temper and my temper is terrible. I told her to be good to me. But she wasn't." Laurie waited patiently for him to continue. "I was taken to my room where my mother poured lighter fluid on my clothes, put a match to me and locked the door." He paused at the look of dismay on Laurie's face. "My father got to me in time. Mother had a breakdown and I was put behind the walls." He leaned forwards suddenly in the chair. "Will they take me away?"

"No, Brahms. You were just a child. You don't get imprisoned for things you did at eight."

"I should hate her, shouldn't I? My Mother? But I don't. I can't. She always knew what I needed. She gave me you."

Laurie eyed him warily. "I'm not a commodity, Brahms. I don't belong to anyone. Neither do you. To force someone against their will is like...well, it would make you as bad as Joel."

She glanced at her watch. "It's nearly midnight. Time we got some sleep." As Brahms turned towards the far end of the hallway, Laurie said, "Where are you going? Your room is on the first floor now. No need to hide behind the walls anymore." He hesitated a moment then followed her upstairs. Outside her room, he whispered, "Will you read to me?" His tone had gone up an octave but not quite the childish modulation of before. "Of course. Get yourself into bed and I'll be over in a minute."

In her room she pulled on a short satin nightgown and kimono robe; then pattered down the hallway to his room. Brahms had folded his clothes neatly on the chair beside the bed. He lay naked from the waist up with that damned mask on. Laurie inhaled shakily then turned to the bookcase. She picked up the most adult book she could find which was Treasure Island, opened up the first page then sat on the end of the bed. After five chapters he still hadn't dozed. "That's enough for one night, Brahms. I'm getting tired and you should be too."

At his placid demeanour she pulled up the coverlet to this shoulders. "Goodnight, Brahms."

"Kiss?"

He spoke so softly it took a moment to register his request. Christ, the Rules. No. 10 - Kiss Brahms Goodnight.

Laurie leaned down until her mouth was inches from his masked one. She could feel the heat radiating off him and confusion warred with an ever increasing desire she couldn't understand. She could hear him breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest. She licked her lips because her mouth felt suddenly dry. This is just wrong, her mind clamoured. Broken and wrong...

Then she touched her mouth to the mask and Brahms reared to meet her. The hard porcelain bruised her lips and banged against her teeth. She felt his hands on her arms, pulling her down and himself up. Her breasts were crushed against his rib cage and his scent caught her defences and tore them away. She'd heard that sexual attraction was down to chemistry but until now, she'd never fully understood. Gasping, she cried, "Brahms, don't..."

With an effortless, fluid movement he pitched her over on the bed as though she were a rag doll until he had her pinioned and helpless beneath him. For a split second Joel's prediction came to her and she held her breath, her heart pounding with dread. Brahms leaned over her, the oakmoss irises flickering this way and that across her face. When he finally stared into her soul she knew for sure there was a man behind those eyes.

With infinite slowness, he pulled her robe apart. Laurie thought he looked like a child taking the wrapping off a mysterious present and she wondered if he'd ever had a woman before, but suspected he hadn't. That treacherous compassion surged forth again, filling her with pity for him and a need she couldn't control.

Brahms ran his fingertips over her face with surprising tenderness. As he bent forwards, his beautiful thick hair quivered, framing the mask. Her breathing came in gasps now that matched his own. He knew that she wanted him. The sexual tension stretched between them like some lustful event horizon. Laurie felt him grind against her, showing her he was ready.

Then the phone in her bedroom began to ring shrilly.

For a split second, Brahms released his grip on her, turning his head towards the sound. Laurie surged up and pushed him away, tumbling from the bed and his grasp. She hit the floor, wondering why she was running but knowing that if she gave herself to him she was lost...forever.

She nearly made it. Just as she reached the doorway, Brahms slammed it shut missing her hands by inches. She skittered to a halt hitting the panelling sideways on and winding herself. He stood inches away, glaring down at her, chest heaving, his breath rasping. She could feel his fury and shrank from it. If I fight him, he'll kill me, she thought. But I won't because I don't want to. God help me but I want him more than I've ever wanted any man...

Forever, she waited for his violence but it never came. Brahms regarded her long and hard, and she all but squirmed under his scrutiny. Then slowly, he raised both hands and removed his mask.

Laurie reached up to touch him, her fingers brushing the scars he tried so hard to hide and feared so much to show. He flinched at her touch, but as she cupped his injured cheek, he inclined his head into her hand and kissed her palm. His trust in her was absolute.

Her mouth on his opened the way. If he had been gentle and considerate earlier none of that showed now. He pinned her to the wall with his mouth as his fingers found and ripped off her robe with a single, vicious jerk.

He broke the kiss, staring down at her naked breasts, breathing hard. Laurie tried to dredge up some outrage but all she could do was stare up at him. The scarring to his face was profound but did nothing to detract from his beauty. If anything it made him even more magnetic. His eyes were untouched as was his mouth and she watched as his sneer blossomed into a smile. Then he was lifting her, and she circled his waist with her legs, using her muscles to suspend herself as he found her and sank home. He was the hardest she'd ever felt and each laboured breath of his held a desperation that matched her passion for him.

She revelled in the feel of him, his domination of her. Their eyes were now on a level and she held him by that thick hair and gasped his name with each thrust, working herself against him. There was no giving; only taking, and they took what they wanted from each other with no compunction.

He used her body and she wallowed in it, biting his lips and pulling his hair until he hissed with pain. All her senses were heightened and she felt as though she wanted to absorb him, become a part of him at some deep cellular level. It was a frantic coupling, and in those crazy moments she knew this was the closest she'd ever come to being one with another human being. His was the stamina of youth and he took Laurie relentlessly, like a machine. She held him to her with her thighs as he gripped her wrists above her head, hard against the wall.

Pleasure and pain warred for possession of her control, then Brahms was murmuring her name, his body pushing hers to the limits. They stared into each other's eyes as they came aware only of each other and the hurricane of passion they shared. Then, it was over and he was kissing her, his face slick with sweat, gasping into her hair which tumbled between them. She felt him within her, still pulsating, and smiled into his shoulder. At that moment, she desired him more than ever.

Brahms sank to his knees, Laurie still tied to his body. She took his face in her hands and kissed his closed eyelids, first one then the other, tracing her fingers along the scarring. The dark green eyes opened to regard her solemnly and she smiled at him. "Well, wasn't that something?"