AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sure. I just want to enjoy tonight with you.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, and then we fell into a long silence.
“I think I should sleep,” I eventually told him when I felt myself drifting. It was likely near one by then, and I knew I needed all the rest I could get.
“You should.” I heard a faint scraping along the wall, and I wondered if he was drawing shapes on it the way I did. “Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”
“Do you know one?” I yawned loudly. “Can you even sing?”
“I can sing,” he said.
And then he did.
It wasn’t in English. I didn’t understand the language, but it was soft and melodic, and I had a feeling that like most lullabies, it was tragic and terrible. But it settled under my skin, and as his voice eventually trailed off, my chest was lighter.
“I know you’re not ready to see me,” I said, and I heard a noise of protest, but I went on anyway because I had to say this before tomorrow. “But if that changes, if you feel ready, I’ll be playing tomorrow. You can probably sneak in.” I yawned again, and my voice thickened with my need to sleep. “The Brooklyn Cultural Center of the Arts. Side entrance. I’ll be playing for you.”
I was nearly unconscious before I heard his voice again, though I wasn’t sure if it was a dream this time.
“Good night, sweetheart. Tomorrow will all be worth it.”
Chapter13
My heart was beating in my throat, so thick against the back of my tongue I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to breathe properly. Nothing about the audition setup was new. There was a small hallway and a tiny room where the musicians could prep and tune their instruments. Assistants were running around handing out bottles of water and pointing out the barely working coffee machine in the corner with old stains around the spout and tiny paper cups that would barely hold an espresso shot.
Only a few people had been called in that Christmas Eve, but there was an air of frantic anxiety going around that didn’t help my nerves. I was standing off to the side, clutching my little cello rosin holder and thinking about whether or not Forrest was actually going to make it.
His apartment had been quiet when I’d left, which meant he was deep asleep. I didn’t expect him to actually show up considering he hadn’t been able to open the door to me when I’d come to thank him for the gift.
It was too much pressure. I understood that. What we had was beautiful and powerful, and the idea of tearing down the wall and letting reality in was obviously too much. I knew we’d get there eventually, but this would be a lesson in patience.
It was odd to think back to the moment we’d met—his unreasonable demands and my compliance that sat just on the edge of malicious. How close we’d come to murder, then somehow ended up here.
God help us both if anything changed.
My hands were sweating and shaking as I pulled my cello out of the case, and I swiped them on my trousers, listening for both the tune in the strings and also the conversation happening just outside the room.
They were as nervous as I was, which gave me some comfort. We were all in this together after all. None of them were cellists, so there was no competition, and I felt a measure of relief when they walked in and we all locked eyes.
After a beat, the youngest of the two with very light brown hair and honey-brown eyes met my gaze. “Is it true you and Nicolai Ivanov—”
“Steph,” the other man cautioned. “Don’t.”
I felt a cold bit of panic rush up my spine, but there was no point in denying it. “Yes.”
The guy, Steph, walked over and took a chair next to me, his viola dangling from his fingers. “What was he like?”
I closed my eyes on a long sigh, not sure if I was brave enough to tell the truth. Nicolai was a genius but only in his skills as a thief. He had an ear no one could match, and he knew talent and where to find it. And he was an expert at taking things that didn’t belong to him. He was obsessed with making sure everyone around him believed he was responsible for everyone else’s success.
But the last thing I wanted was to ostracize myself further in this community. This was my chance at a fresh start.
“He was a lot,” I finally said. Not quite a lie, not quite honesty.
“Is it true he discovered you in high school?” Steph pressed.
I swallowed back bile. “I was seventeen when we met.” I chanced a look at the other guy who was at least a decade older than both of us, and there was something in his eyes that told me he knew. He knew the things I was still too afraid to say aloud.
“He never impressed me all that much.”
