Another chapter to apologize for not uploading in so long! I promise I have many chapters already written out, it's just a matter of typing them up and uploading them! (I know, I know, I'm old fashioned for handwriting them all!)
Paris, March 1881
"His legs!" the man cried. "Quickly! We must get him help!" He scooped his arms underneath Erik's and Lisette grabbed his feet. They struggled to balance his body weight as they began to shuffle down the passageway. He was so heavy for such a thin man! But part of Erik's shirt fell away, revealing a hard line of muscles underneath…
"His home is just past the lake," Lisette grunted, ignoring the rising color in her cheeks.
"Be careful not to jostle him," the man declared, his voice strained. "He's already lost too much blood."
Lisette immediately regretted looking behind her as she saw the trail of blood. When they settled Erik into the gondola and the man began rowing across the lake, she was able to get a proper look at Erik's injuries.
"It's his side!" Lisette said, holding Erik's head in her lap. She tried to keep herself from vomiting as she watched his blood begin to pool at the bottom of the gondola. When they reached the drawing room, Lisette noticed that Erik was gradually growing paler, his skin almost matching the color of his white mask.
"Carry him to the bedroom," she said, motioning the way. "I'll be right back. I'm getting us help!"
As Erik was lifted from the boat, Lisette darted to a small rope that hung on the wall adjacent to the organ. Although Erik had never spoken of it, Lisette was fully aware it was used to summon Madame Giry to his home as she had seen the rope's twin in the ballet mistress's office. As she pulled relentlessly at it, she was certain this was not the first time Erik had rung for her in the middle of the night.
When Lisette returned to the bedroom, the man was already beginning to remove Erik's cape and suit jacket. Lisette helped him remove the neck tie, vest, shirt, and undershirt which were all soaked in blood. Instinctively, the man reached for Erik's mask. Lisette grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away.
"Don't," she hissed.
When they removed Erik's last layer of clothing from his upper body, they discovered a deep wound on his left side.
"Gun shot," the man said, his face flinching.
"Gun shot?" Lisette repeated incredulously. This man had been right. Erik had been in danger!
"Erik?"
The female voice startled them both, but Lisette rested a hand on the man's shoulder to reassure him.
"A friend, monsieur," Lisette said, before running into the drawing room.
"Lisette!"
Madame Giry was in her nightclothes, her graying hair in a long braid down her back. "What on earth are you doing here? Where's Erik?"
Her eyes fell on the blood on Lisette's skirt, making her eyes widen. "What happened?"
"It's Erik," Lisette said, taking the woman's arm. "We need help!"
She showed Madame Giry to the bedroom where the man was desperately pressing a blanket to Erik's wound, turning it a dark red. The man and Madame Giry looked suspiciously at one another, but it was clear to Lisette that this was not the first time they had been in each other's presence.
"He's been shot," Lisette said.
Madame Giry shooed the man from Erik's bedside, inspecting the wound. "You bloody fool," Lisette heard Madame Giry say under her breath to Erik.
"We need hot water, towels, alcohol, a needle, and thread," she said at last. "We have to get the bullet out, clean the wound, and stitch it up so it doesn't get infected. The wound is not fatal, but he's lost so much blood…" Her voice faltered and tears shone in her eyes. Blinking, she turned to the man and Lisette. "Now!"
Lisette gathered the materials as quickly as she could, showing the man where the kettle was to boil water.
"Lisette," Madame Giry said, placing a hand tenderly on Erik's side. "I need something to remove the bullet with."
Lisette glanced at the nearby spinet and spotted the pliers Erik used for tuning the instrument. She handed them to Madame Giry.
"Put a cool cloth on his head," Madame Giry instructed. "And keep him restrained. This will hurt quite a bit."
Lisette wiped away the sweat that was pouring down Erik's face as he gritted his teeth in agony. She placed her weight on both of his arms as Madame Giry inserted the pliers into the wound. Erik let out a weak moan as his eyes fluttered open and closed again.
"He's going to faint," Lisette warned.
"I've got it," Madame Giry panted. "Just a moment longer…"
With a gentle pull, she removed the bullet from the wound.
"Vodka was the best option," Lisette said, motioning to the large bottle of liquor on the floor.
"That's good," Madame Giry said, surprising Lisette by taking a large swig from the bottle. "It's strong."
As she poured the vodka on the wound, Erik let out a terrifying cry of pain, writhing in pain, before falling onto the bed, unconscious. Madame Giry quickly threaded a needle and stitched up the wound faster than Lisette would have thought possible. Lisette ripped off a section of Erik's bedsheets and the two women worked together to wrap them around Erik's midsection. Lastly, they took the water the man had boiled and wiped away all traces of blood and sweat from his body.
"Here," Madame Giry said, thrusting Erik's discarded clothes at Lisette. "Burn these. He certainly won't be wearing them after tonight."
Lisette nodded and turned to the man, who had quietly been observing the entire time. "Is he trustworthy?" Lisette asked Madame Giry under her breath. The ballet mistress observed him for a moment, before turning back to Lisette.
"He is," she said. "But whether or not Erik will be pleased to discover he is in his house is another matter entirely." Saying this, she straightened her dress and stood. "I'm leaving," she said. "Keep close watch over him the next two days and make sure he stays in bed. If he gets a fever, give him cool cloths and let him sweat it out. If the fever rises too high, let me know immediately."
Madame Giry turned to Lisette. "You know how stubborn he is. Those stitches need to stay for at least two weeks before they can be taken out. Clean them daily and do not let them get wet."
She turned on her heels, but stopped as she passed Lisette.
"I'd burn that dress of yours too," she said, motioning to her bloodstained skirt. "I highly doubt Erik would want to discover just how badly wounded he was."
Lisette nodded. "Madame, may I ask you a favor?"
The ballet mistress nodded. "Certainly."
Lisette lowered her voice, stepping closer so no one would overhear. "I don't trust this man enough to leave him along with Erik when I have rehearsals tomorrow with Reyer and the orchestra. Are you able to come down and watch him?"
Madame Giry eyed the man, as if trying to determine his trustworthiness for herself. "I cannot leave my obligations tomorrow," she replied. "But I will make sure you are excused. Do you have any other rehearsals tomorrow?"
"No, thank goodness," Lisette said with a weak smile. "Thank you so much for all your help."
"Let me know how he gets on," Madame Giry said, resting a hand on Lisette's shoulder. "I have a feeling he will not be an easy patient to care for."
When Madame Giry left, the man and Lisette were left staring at each other in suspicion. Lisette wasn't sure if Erik was sleeping or unconscious from the way he twitched and grimaced in the bed. She tried to ignore his defined muscles on his bare chest as she pulled the covers to his neck and was relieved to see the blood from the wound had not soaked through the makeshift gauze.
"I will watch him tonight, mademoiselle," the man said, settling himself on one of the cushions in front of the fireplace. "You should get some rest."
"I'm not tired," Lisette answered truthfully, biting her lip as she now saw beads of sweat forming on Erik's brow. "Use those cloths to keep his fever down. I'll be back to check on him in a few hours. Please let me know if the fever gets any worse."
"But where will you be?" the man inquired.
"In the drawing room," she said. "Erik gave me a job to do when he left for the evening and I do not intend to disappoint him."