The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Part 29 - Elias

You stand paralysed in the doorway staring across at the intruder.  There's a roaring in your ears, as though you have your head pressed to a conch shell.   Time stands still.  In the flickering candlelight, you watch his black eyes flicker over your body, then back up to meet your own wide eyed, terrified gaze.  You can't speak.  You can't move.  Strangely enough, you don't fear for yourself.  You fear for Brahms.  Without looking around the room, you know he's not there.  

The great hulking shadow shifts from one foot to the other.  The fragrance of his cologne makes you feel sick.   It brings back memories you'd rather forget.    You hear his sharp intake of breath, then the slow exhalation of someone holding their temper on a very tight rein.

"Y/N.   Long time no see."

His voice breaks your paralysis.  You take two steps into the room.   "How did you get in here?"

"You left the door open."

His voice is so like Joel's you almost wince.  "You have to leave."

"That's no way to greet old friends."

"You're not my friend, Elias.   You never were."

"Where's my brother?"

You take an involuntary step back as he moves closer.  Elias, older than Joel by four years, is tall and lean and mean as a rattler.   He was the type who pulled the wings off flies for fun as a kid or tortured kittens for a bet.   He's everything you thought Brahms was, and more.   It takes  a huge effort not to glance desperately around the room looking for Brahms.  Did he hear Elias come into the house?   Has he simply slipped out to use the bathroom?   Is he watching?  Biding his time?  You have no way of knowing.  Brahms is a law unto himself.  You imagine the bloodbath if these two males clash.   You can't even think of what the outcome might be.   With contrived nonchalance  you say, "I haven't seen Joel for months.   He came here briefly, then left."

"You're lyin'."

"He's not here."

Elias takes glances around the room.  He picks up your discarded wine glass, then quaffs the remains of the claret.  He's so like his brother it's uncanny.  The same mannerisms, stance and voice.    A core of fury begins to build in you.

"If you don't leave, I'm calling the police."

"I am the fuckin' police," he grates, then gives a horrible grin that makes his whole hairline shift forwards.

"Not in this country, Elias!"   

You're desperate to diffuse this situation, to talk your way out of it without riling his anger.  You know he's part of the reason Joel turned out so cruel.   You remember his hair trigger temper.  

You stay in the doorway, wondering if you can make it upstairs before he catches you.  If you can disappear into the walls.  Perhaps he thinks you're here alone.   But he's picking up the empty glass that held Brahms's orange juice.   He wiggles the glass at you and gives an impish grin.  In the naked candle flames it looks like a grimace.

"Where's my brother?"

"I told you.  He's not here!"

Elias hurls the glass to the wall, where it smashes to smithereens.   You know Brahms must have heard that, and  he's probably watching.   You keep your eyes on Elias.   He's holding up his cell phone, shaking it at you.

"Last message I got from him.  He's here.  In this fuckin' house.  With you."

You shake your head.  "There's no phone signal in this house."

"Don't mess with me, Y/N!"

"So you got a message.  He must have sent it on his way here, or just after he left.   I've already told you he was here.   Yes, he came for me.  But I told him it was over.  Finished.  So he left."

"He wouldn't have left without you!  He told me he'd stay right here if you wouldn't get on that plane with him."

You glare at him.   "Well, I guess you don't know your little brother quite so well as you thought.  I'm not his property!"   

You turn then and stalk into the hallway.   A glance around confirms no sign of Brahms.  You pick up the landline phone and start to dial.   Elias smashes your hand down on the receiver so hard you yelp in pain, sure that your fingers are broken.

"You son of a bitch!"

"I ain't leavin' til you give me the truth.  And I'll get the truth if I gotta twist it out of that pretty throat."

The rage that's been building in you bubbles to the surface.   You remember all the years you gave to his brother, the pain and  heartbreak, the idiotic perseverance that was your undoing. You've had enough of bullies.

"You lay one finger on me again, I swear to God, you'll live to regret it!"

"Is that what you said to Joel?"  He thrusts his head forwards until the tendons in his neck stand out.  "I know you ain't alone here."  He stares around, then looks towards the head of the stairs.  "Where is he?"

"It was you, wasn't it?"  You breathe.   "You broke in here that night."

Elias stares back down at you.  "Sure, I did."

At your expression of dismay, he grins.  "I knew  you were  hidin' somewhere.  That bed of yours was still warm.  Lucky you skedaddled.   I had to make do with sniffin' those pretty little panties of yours."

You smack him so hard across the face,  his head snaps to the right.   When he looks back at you there's murder in his eyes.   He's not a man used to being defied.  His job as a police officer gave him a power he'd been abusing for years.  His hand whips out but you duck away and all he's left with is a handful of your hair.  You run, slip, then tumble to your knees on the hardwood floor. Behind you, Elias is breathing hard, his sour breath on your scalp, his hands around the back of your neck.   He's turning you over, ready to slap you harder than you can ever imagine.  He'll leave bruises and split lips.  He taught his brother everything.

You glare up at him defiant as a cornered cat, spitting invective.  Then, you watch his  expression change as his eyes shift upwards, over your head.  There's surprise and confusion on his face.  You know what he's seeing.   You know what's come.

All hell breaks loose.