The Power of a Name
Chapter Nine
Mimi grabbed a hold of his shirt as he brushed by her in the school hallway before lunch break. "Kevin, how much longer are you going to keep doing this?" she responded angrily. She was sick of being snubbed by one of her best friends, simply for refusing to go on a date with him. It was about time they settled it one way or another.
Kevin only glared spitefully down at her, before pushing his glasses up his nose in that annoyingly superior way of his. "What exactly am I doing, Miriam?"
She barely suppressed the urge to punch him in the nose. "That is it! Kevin Lambert, you're coming with me. Now." She grabbed his hand and pulled him into one of the quickly clearing classrooms as students poured out of the school for lunch period. She slammed the door behind them, before turning to face him with arms crossed and a look of scolding to match any of the teachers in the school. "Okay, Kev. I've had just about enough of your wounded male ego. So I turned you down. So what? It's not like I haven't before. What gives you the gall to act like this?"
Kevin was unmoved by Mimi's display. It was like her to make dramatic statements with little substance. "I believe my behavior is perfectly justified under the circumstances, Miriam. The real question is where you get the source of your arrogance. I've known you all your life; and I know perfectly well that I'm the only man who's shown a hint of interest in you. And I've shown much more than that. I've been crazy about you. And all you've ever repaid me with is derision and rejection. So what is it about you, Miriam Lockhart, that makes you so high above me?"
Mimi's mouth hung open in shock for a moment as she digested the full force of Kevin's words. "You think that's why I said no, Kevin?" she asked finally. "Because I think I'm better than you?" His silence gave her all the answer she needed. "Oh, Kev, that had nothing to do with it! It has to do with the thing I can never make you understand. It has to do with the feeling I have that there's just one person for everyone in this world; and you're not that for me." Her innocent eyes pleaded with him for acceptance, if not for understanding.
Kevin yanked off his glasses angrily. "What is it about me that is so wrong, Meems? Am I too smart? Not handsome enough? Not popular enough? Tell me what it is that you're looking for."
"Oh Kevin," she said gently, wishing she could take away the hurt but knowing there was nothing she could do. He was finally being forced to face a reality she'd been trying to make clear to him for years. "It's not you. There's nothing about you I would ever want you to change. You're one of my best friends. But that's what we are. Friends. The thing I'm looking for…it's not anything physical. It's not something you can change. It just is. It's a feeling I get in the pit of my stomach that's missing when I look at you."
Kevin shook his head, seeing the glazed, dreamy expression in her eyes. He hated that look. It had been the symbol for years of all about Miriam Lockhart that he couldn't understand and couldn't possess. But it was also the thing he loved most about her. Somehow, in his desire for her, his obsession for her, that love of all that she was had been lost. He put his glasses back on, sighing. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Mimi. I honestly do."
Mimi smiled at him, knowing that she had her best friend back. "Thanks, Kevin. I hope you find it too. Somewhere there's a girl who's perfect for you. It's just not me, and it never will be." He nodded glumly, and she saw by the defeated shrug of his shoulders that he had finally given his cause up as lost. She surveyed him critically for a moment, before deciding to voice her idea. "Hey, Kev? How'd you like two dates to the prom?"
"What?" Kevin asked, confused by her sudden change of subject. "Who?"
"Susan and I," Mimi announced nonchalantly. "I mean, come on. None of us have dates. Why don't we just go as a group? Friends. It's always been the three of us, ever since kindergarten. And I think that's how it should be. Don't you?"
Kevin studied her for a moment, before his face broke into the familiar grin that she hadn't seen in such a long time. He nodded. "Sure. Why not? It's definitely better than us all going alone."
"Great!" Mimi cried excitedly, leaning in to give him a hug. It was the first time in years she felt comfortable in an embrace with him. She didn't feel like he was demanding anything of her. It was the embrace of friends.
The door opened, causing them to pull apart slightly. Mimi paled and jumped back further when she saw who it was. He met her with a sardonic grin, but she could almost swear she felt angry vibes coming off from him. What did he have to be angry about? "Hello, Miss Lockhart. It seems I've told you before about being in classrooms where no teacher is present."
Mimi could feel both his and Kevin's eyes on her, his accusing, Kevin's questioning. "Um, I'm sorry," she mumbled, for the first time ever, anxious to be away from the man who'd been haunting her dreams for weeks. "We were just leaving." She made a move to get past him and out the door, but he easily blocked her. She refused to meet his eyes, even though she berated herself for feeling guilty. After all, what he had seen had been perfectly innocent. And even if it hadn't been, she didn't owe him anything.
"Not so fast, Miss Lockhart," he said, an infuriating note of authority in his voice. "This is the second time I've found you violating school policy. I'd like to have a word with you about it." He cast a dark glare in Kevin's direction. "You can go."
Kevin looked annoyed at his imperious tone. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Hitler? "I was here too. We both broke the rule, although it seems a pointless rule to me. Why are you going to report her and not me?"
Kevin's temper had never been more ill-timed. Mimi had felt her spirits begin to recover the moment he had asked her to stay behind alone. She didn't want Kevin screwing it up. "It's all right, Kev," she said quickly, stopping either man from a heated reply. "Like he said, he'd warned me about it before. Go on. I'll see you in class." Kevin didn't look pleased about it, but he obeyed Mimi and left the classroom. Dead silence hung in the air for a moment after he left. Mimi finally found the courage to look up at him, and discovered him watching her with an expression impossible to define. She blushed deeply. "What?"
His mouth curved up in a derisive smirk. "Nothing. It's none of my business if you want to sneak off with you boyfriend on lunch hour. Oh wait, yes it is. When you do it on school grounds."
Mimi felt her face turn even redder with a mixture of mortification and anger. "First of all, he's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend. And we weren't doing anything. Secondly, I find your attitude completely offensive. What gives you the right to treat me like this?"
He'd seen her flustered before. He'd seen her embarrassed, often. But he'd never seen her angry. And despite himself, he was finding it a major turn on. He forced himself to push that aside. "I'm sorry," he returned disdainfully. "I didn't realize I owed you special treatment. By all means, explain to me why you should be regarded any better than all the other students in this school, Miss Lockhart."
Mimi felt tears of humiliation well in her eyes, but she bit them forcefully back. There was no way in hell she was going to give him the satisfaction of making her cry. What was making him turn on her like this? "I don't know," she retorted hotly. "Please let me know when I can expect to be treated like an adult by you, and when I'll be relegated to the position of just another kid; and then, maybe I can come up with an answer for you."
He had hurt her. He could see that immediately. But he refused to care, just as he refused to recognize the jolt of rage and envy that had shot through him the moment he had entered the room and seen her with that kid. She was nothing but a child, a delusional child, if she was starting to think that a couple of strange, accidental encounters meant there was something going on between them. "Listen, Miss Lockhart, I'm not sure what exactly you think my going lenient on you that first day means; but I assure you, it doesn't mean that you can break school rules without paying the consequences."
"Fine, then. Report me." Mimi was practically screaming now, feeling rejected on every level. "I don't care. Nothing could be worse than standing here having to listen to a lecture from a guy who's maybe what, three, four years older than me? I didn't do anything wrong that day. And I didn't do anything wrong today either. The only thing that's different is that today you're in a crappy mood. You want someone to take it out on? Fine! But it's not going to be me."
As she marched angrily towards the door, he stepped back, torn between the knowledge that he owed her an apology and the realization that giving her one would lead to things he couldn't let happen. So he simply stood back, waiting for her to go. But she didn't. She made it to the door. Her hand was on the knob, ready to walk out of the room and away from all the things she'd been thinking about him for the past few weeks. But something stopped her. A force outside herself made her stop and turn around. He raised his eyebrows, still not ready to give in. "Well?" he asked, with forced nonchalance. "Now is the time for your grand exit, Miss Lockhart. What do you want?"
"I don't know," Mimi answered honestly, her brow knit in confusion. "I want to understand what's going on between us. Mainly, I just want you to admit that there is something going on between us. Admit it. I'm more than just another average teenager to you. I won't ask for more. Just an acknowledgement that I mean something—even just a little bit—to you."
He exhaled loudly, running a hand back through his sandy blonde hair. Why did she insist on cornering him this way? The more he tried to push her away, the more she kept pushing her way back. Back to him. Back towards the walls around his heart, quietly chipping away against the idol he'd erected there to Belle's memory. He laughed nervously, trying to rebuff the idea. "I'll admit that you're more…unforgettable…than most of the kids I've met here. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is for you to decide."
She took a step away from the door, smiling self-consciously. "Well, it's a start at least. See? I can be satisfied with very little. You don't have to push me away." She saw him jump and knew he was surprised that she had read him so well. But she wasn't surprised. She already was learning how to see past the front he put up to the vulnerable man he tried so hard to hide.
As she continued to approach him, slowly, unthreateningly, he felt his unease growing. Simply, the fact that it would be so easy to love her frightened him. Damn it. Why did she make him so weak? He met her loving gaze with a deadly serious one of his own. "Little girl, you don't know what you're getting yourself into."
Mimi stopped barely three feet away from him. "You're probably right. In fact, I'm clueless pretty much everything in life. Why should this be any different? But I'm willing to risk it. I'm very determined. And oh, I'm not a little girl." She stood before him, hands on hips, unintimidated and ready to accept any challenge he might send her way.
His eyes started at her feet and traveled up over all the luscious curves of her body, finally resting on her blushing face. She was right. She wasn't a little girl. But she wasn't a woman either. She was lost somewhere in between and probably always would be. An eternal innocent. One that he refused to destroy. "Mimi, I'm going to give you the best advice I possibly can. Stay the hell away from me."
Her eyes closed, as a soft breath left her body. "Say it again," she pleaded.
He looked at her like she had lost her already unstable mind. "What? Stay the hell away from me?"
Mimi rolled her eyes. "No. My name. Say my name." There had been something in the way he had said it, some special note, some strange pull. Her name had never sounded like that on any pair of lips before. And she had to concentrate on that. She refused to listen to his words. She recognized them for what they were, an attempt at self-preservation. She didn't understand what it was exactly that made him so determined to shut her out, but she knew that at the root of it was that pain she had seen the day in the park.
He couldn't believe it. He told her to get lost, and all she could think was that she liked the way he said her name? She honestly was a total lunatic. And the craziest thing about it was that she was saner than he was. There was something so eccentric about her that she could do anything, say anything, and still there was something beautiful about the action, the word, because it came from her. Without thinking, he obeyed. "Mimi." He liked the way her named rolled off his tongue, smooth as butter, sweet as candy. "Mimi."
She smiled brightly enough to light up the room, and the darkest corners of his heart. "Thank you. Oh, and before I forget again, what's—" The sudden ringing of the bell disrupted their moment, as teacher and students began to file into the classroom. Mimi found herself being jostled away; and by the time she looked around again, he was, predictably, gone.
~~*~~
Entering that house was the most surreal experience of her life. There was something so ironic about being carried over the threshold of a cozy little cabin in the mountains by a husband so virtuous he wouldn't even sleep with a hooker he had paid for. It was made even more amusing by the fact that the reason she was being carried was because she still didn't feel well enough to walk. If she had, there was no way in hell she'd even be here at this moment.
"Welcome home, Amanda," Brady said quietly, as he carried her through the house and laid her on the giant feather bed where she would continue her recuperation. Her only response was to glare up at him. He laughed softly, unwilling to let her anger rattle him. "Save your strength for getting better, beloved. You'll have plenty of time to hate me later."
She simply turned her head away from his smiling face. His humor and patience would give way eventually. And then, there was no telling what was in store for her. But he was right. She couldn't think about hating him now. She couldn't think about anything. Between the pain-filled hours of wakefulness and the drug-induced nightmares, there was no energy in her to care even about the uncertain future that awaited her.
She just wanted it all to stop. She wanted him to go away. She wished he'd never found her in the first place. She wished he had just let her die. It would have only been correcting a mistake her mother made nineteen years ago, when she'd decided to give birth to her, instead of aborting her as she should have done. Her grandfather had said it all that night. She should never have been born. The filth that clung to her lived in her blood. The only escape was through death. And even that was denied her.
Brady saw her misery and prayed to God for some way to relieve it. She was so scarred, so battered. And most of them were on the inside, someplace she kept locked far away from him and everyone else. He didn't even know where to begin when it came to reaching her. Was it even possible to reach her? Or had the life she had led actually succeeded in making her as hollow as she sometimes appeared to be? No, he couldn't believe that. There was something about her that called to him, and he refused to accept that it was as simple as lust.
Seeing she wasn't willing or able to communicate with him, Brady left her for a few minutes to go make her soup. When he returned, she only looked up at him with empty eyes, completely uncaring whether she ate now or ever again. Brady simply put the tray down on the night stand beside her and fed her, bite by bite, not stopping until she had consumed it all. He never spoke a word to her, and she never spoke to him. For now, it was enough for Brady to make her well again. He refused to do anything to press her or make her uncomfortable until she was ready to fight back. She only watched him with the eyes of a frightened, caged bird, ready to fly away the second the opportunity was provided her.
Brady handed her a cup of water and one of the pain pills Dr. Wesley had prescribed. "Here. Take this," he instructed. "It will help with the pain, and you'll be able to sleep." There was nothing she'd rather do less than sleep. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant nightmares. And her nightmares had the added horror of being real. But she'd rather do anything than explain that to him. She obediently took the medication, before turning and lying on her side, making sure to keep her face completely averted from him.
Brady only shook his head at her immediate withdrawal. He had the depressing feeling that this was going to become habit for her. Pulling away from him whenever she felt threatened. And she didn't need to feel threatened or afraid ever again. If only he could make her see that. Knowing that there most definitely wouldn't be any breakthroughs tonight, he simply picked up the tray and turned out the lamp. "Good night, Amanda. Sweet dreams."
She waited until he removed himself from the room before releasing a hoarse chuckle at the thought. Sweet dreams. What did that even mean? There had never been such a thing as sweet dreams in all her life. There were only nightmares, nightmares that would never end. She fought against her rising weariness as long as she possibly could. She refused to go into that dreaded place of blackness. But the medication was already accomplishing its prescribed duty. Even as she struggled to keep her eyes open, she found herself whirling down into the darkest place she knew. Her own memory…
As the child stared at her lifeless mother on the floor, screaming senselessly, other realities started to register. The pounding of fists on the door, the cries from Mr. Lane to open up. A strange numb feeling settled over her, as she went to open the door. The sweet old man looked down at her stricken face. "Sweetheart, what's the matter? Where's your mama?"
She only pointed blankly back towards the bedroom; and as Mr. Lane followed her direction, she was ceased with the sudden desire to run. She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could get away from that house. Away from the sight of her mother like that. Away from the screaming words, and her intimidating grandfather. Away from everything that had happened tonight. And so she did.
Not heeding the calls of Mr. Lane, she ran all the way down the six flights of stairs and into the city streets at night. It would have been pitch black, if not for the street lamps. No stars shone, there was no moon tonight. There was only the darkness that reached through the skin to chill the heart. Even the uneven glow cast by the street lamps added to the eerie quality of the night.
But the child ignored it, bare feet pounding relentlessly over the hard pavement. She stepped on broken glass, cutting the tender skin; but still she ran, uncaring of the trail of blood she left behind her. She'd seen enough blood. At least she was still capable of pain. Mama wasn't. Her mama never would be again. And it was all because of her.
She didn't remember the eventual collapse in the early hours of the morning. By that time, she had reached an unrecognizable district of the city. Even if she had wanted to, there would be no finding her way back home. The next few days were simply a blur in her mind. She wandered the streets aimlessly, not eating, barely sleeping, trying her best to avoid human contact. But it was impossible that she should go unnoticed forever.
She didn't know how long she'd been living on the streets when an expensive black car with tinted windows pulled to a stop beside her one day. She backed away in fright, everything inside her recoiling from the man who stepped out. He seemed to her the biggest person she'd ever seen, but she was almost sure that was the result of his intimidating presence. His expensive suit and charming smile did nothing to disguise the aura of evil that seemed to exude from him.
"Are you lost, little girl?" he said, in a tone of deceptive softness. His voice was cultured and tinged with the slightest accent, as he bent towards her. She shook her head and stumbled backwards a few more steps, too scared even to scream but wanting to run. But she found her shoulders caught from behind by another man who had stepped out of the car. She struggled briefly, before she found herself being pulled in the direction of the car.
"Now, now, there," the oily man with the dark hair said, in an attempt to sooth her. "It's all right, little one. We're just going to take you somewhere where you can get something warm to eat. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then, we'll see if you have a mommy and a daddy who are missing you, all right? That will be nice, won't it?" At a nod to the man who had a hold of her, she found herself being shoved forcibly into the back seat of the sedan.
Her voice suddenly found her, and she let loose a scream of pure terror, but it was too late. She and the two men were settled back in the car, and the driver was taking them to some unknown destination. The other man was looking at her in a way that made her want to be sick, like he wanted to devour her. Maybe he did. Maybe he was a cannibal, and he ate little children.
"You don't need to be afraid of me, little one," he said, patting the seat beside him. "Come now. Sit down, and tell me all about you. What's your name?" She kept her distance, her eyes a wide, terrified dark blue. She shook her head ferociously, unwilling to tell him anything. He took in her reluctance, smiling predatorily. "You may call me the Phoenix."
She personally would never call him anything. She didn't plan on being around long enough to. As soon as she saw her chance, she'd run. She was getting good at running. But she wished suddenly that she had stayed that night. Maybe if she had, she would be living with nice Mr. and Mrs. Lane instead of trapped with this terrifying man. He made her grandfather look like Santa Claus.
"What about parents, my dear? Do you have a mommy or a daddy?" She simply looked up at him through those same scared eyes. "Do you have a home? Someone who's looking for you?" Still, no answer. His smile broadened, as he fully accepted the fact that she had no one. He reached a hand out to tip her chin up and take in all the lines of her face. "Such a pretty little thing. Don't you talk?"
She yanked out of his grasp. There was something so frighteningly intimate in it. She'd never been touched like that. And she never wanted to be again. He chuckled at her resistance. She would learn soon enough that struggle was useless. They pulled into the garage of one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. The driver came around and opened the door, and she found herself being yanked out of the car and into the house.
"Have her cleaned up and fed and then brought to my room, Vivian," the Phoenix said, as he passed her off to a female servant the moment they came through the doors. He disappeared quickly, and she found herself being led into the kitchen by the woman. She found herself studying the lady's face as she sat at the kitchen table. The woman seemed hard, weary, like she'd been part of too much evil in this world. And whenever her eyes rested on the little girl, even momentarily, they seemed to overflow with pity and regret.
But apparently all her sympathy wouldn't give her the courage to go against her employer's orders. Vivian made sure the little girl was fed and washed and then led her directly to the master's bedroom. Only once she was there, did the woman find it impossible to leave the child unprepared. She knelt before the pretty little girl, with the scared, sorrowful blue eyes. "Listen to me, child," she said, in a rushed, hurried whisper. "It will be easier on you if you don't fight. Just let him have what he wants, and it will all be over."
"Vivian!" a sharp voice rapped from the door. "That will be all. Leave us."
Vivian reluctantly stood up, placing herself between him and the child. "Please, Stefano. Let this one go. She could have a family out there somewhere. Don't do this."
"I told you to leave, Vivian. I'd suggest you do that now." There was a note of finality in his voice that made Vivian give up her quest as hopeless. With one last squeeze of the little girl's shoulders, she passed out of the room, tears already welling in her eyes for the innocence she knew was about to be destroyed.
The Phoenix picked up the child and placed her sitting on the foot of his bed, before kneeling down in front of her. He stroked back the long dark hair, seeing the little girl start with fright. "You're so pretty, my pet. You should have a name to match." He looked deep into the azure eyes. "Sapphire. Do you like that name, Sapphire?" Her only reaction was to scoot farther away from him.
He laughed, a perverse, evil sound. "It's all right, darling. We're just going to get to know each other a bit tonight. You'll like that, won't you, Sapphire? And if you don't, you'll learn to." As he stripped off his jacket, she knew suddenly that her grandfather was right. She should never have been born…
"Amanda, it's all right." Brady shook her gently awake. Her nightmare had been even more violent this time. She thrashed and fought against the covers, her very silence more terrifying than the screams of her previous dreams. She couldn't even wake herself up that way. She sat up, bathed in sweat and still reliving the horror of that night and so many nights to come.
Brady's hands were resting on her shoulders, and she pulled herself away, still shaking with fear. "No!" she screamed. "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me." She pulled herself to the far side of the bed, as far away from him as humanly possible.
Brady frowned. He'd never seen her like this before. So scared and vulnerable. She seemed almost like a little girl, and he was suddenly struck by just how young she was. She put up such a front of being invincible, but she couldn't be much more than twenty years old, if that. God, how young had her destruction started? She must have been through all seven rings of hell to end up like this. "I wish you'd tell me what you dream about," he said softly.
"Just leave me alone," she murmured, as she became once more aware of her surroundings. The Phoenix couldn't touch her anymore, but there was a very real, very present danger to her safety now. An enigma as frightening to her as Stefano DiMera. She'd been through every sort of abuse that it was possible to live through, but the unknown frightened her more than anything else. She could feel his questioning eyes on her. Well, let him wonder. She certainly wasn't going to confide in him.
Brady sat in the chair by her bedside for the rest of the night, afraid she'd experience even more nightmares when she fell back asleep. But she didn't. When she finally got back to sleep, it was out of an exhaustion too deep for nightmares to invade it. Even then, he still sat beside her, ready to comfort her, ready to help her. If only she'd give him the chance.