"Alright, give me your hands," CJ said to me, picking up the cloth and dunking it into the water.
"No!" I snapped, putting my hands behind my back, "You wicked little woman, I am not an invalid and I don't need you to take care of me,"
"Fine, be a child," She said mildly, dropping the cloth into my lap and turning to walk to her bed.
I pulled my hands out from behind my back and really looked at them for the first time in the light; we had been given two more candles, as a reward I assumed.
My hands looked terrible; there was dried blood all over them, it had seeped into every crack in my skin. Chips of glass were deeply embedded in them, and I found suddenly, with the danger of being killed gone, it hurt to move them. I groaned and CJ whipped around,
"Oh…" CJ ran back over to me and sank down on her knees in front of me; she grabbed my hands, I pulled them away but she adamantly pulled them back, and I gave up; if she wanted to bother with me than she could.
She grabbed the cloth from my lap; an action which was almost far too personal a touch; and wet it. She began dabbing the blood away in order to better see the fragments of glass still lodged in my palms.
CJ carefully pulled every glass shard from my hand; she was surprisingly gentle for an assassin. After cleaning and bandaging one hand she moved to the other. As she removed one piece of glass which was particularly large and particularly painful to extract; I flinched and grunted slightly,
"Child," CJ laughed at me.
"It is painful, is that hard to understand?"
"And you said you did not need to be taken care of," She said exasperatedly, not looking up at me as she concentrated on my hands. Finishing my other hand, she sat back on her heels,
"Alright, now take off your shirt,"
"Pardon?" I asked coldly, eyebrows raised, really, this girl was not right in the head.
"Take off your shirt, your back in bleeding," she moved behind me to see where the glass window had cut into my back,
"I think I can take care of that myself," I said in an icy tone,
"You? Think? I simply cannot believe it," CJ said, it seemed that no matter how cold I was to her, she just did not care.
"I…" I began, but she cut me off,
"I understand, you can't unbutton your shirt because of your hands, I'll do it," she moved her hands to my shirt, I quickly swatted her away. Not only was I perfectly capable of unbuttoning my own shirt, I did not like being touched. All my miserable life nobody had touched me, unless it was to beat me. I suppose that was why I had such a problem with it; I associated being touched with being beaten.
CJ slapped my face; there was that beating I had been waiting for. I grabbed her wrist, which of course was painful and I started to bleed again.
"Damn," I cursed, looking down at my hand,
"You deserved it," CJ said angrily, then she moved her hands to my shirt again. Apparently she would not be dissuaded. She looked directly into my eyes and dared me to stop her. She had eerily green eyes. After a moment CJ knew she had won and she dropped her eyes to watch her fingers as they undid my shirt.
It was extremely awkward; she was very close, almost in my lap. I looked straight ahead of me, trying not to think about her being so near. I did not like being around people, except for Christine, if it had been Christine here with me this would have been wonderful.
CJ was no Christine by any means, Christine had possessed an undeniable beauty, she had had soft, delicate features and innocent eyes and flowing hair. My heart still ached for her; why had she left me? I had only wanted her, that was all, why was I denied?
This girl I was working with now; this CJ Bradshaw, she had none of Christine's beauty; she was hard, straightforward, and completely devoid of any femininity. Unless you counted that beguiling look in her eyes; this thought came unbidden to me and it surprised me. I violently pushed the idea away; I was in love with Christine, there would never be another. However, I still felt my self flush as I looked down at the girl with the alluring eyes, No! not alluring…CJ's eyes were not alluring…not at all…
CJ reached the last button and then drew off my shirt; taking the cloth and moving behind me she began to wash the blood on my back away.
"You will be happy to hear it is not so severe," CJ's voice came from behind me, "If I had not save you life later I might actually have felt bad about suggesting going in through the window,"
She rose from her kneeling position behind me on the bed and started to walk to her bed. I was glad this over intimate interlude was finished. However as she passed, something caught my eye. In a flash, I reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her back to me.
"What in the name of…" CJ spun around and glared at me
"I think it's your turn to be taken care of," I said "Turn around," I pulled her down on her knees in front of me and pulled her shirt up reveling a long gash on her back.
"Oh yes, I thought that guy did something when he tackled me," CJ said absently, holding her shirt in place just below her breasts,
"Apparently," I said, slowly whipping dried blood from her back. I did not quite know what I was doing or what had possessed me to try to help her. I guess, even though she was not Christine; who I realized was the only person I had ever liked, or loved, she was my partner, and she had saved my life. "Alright" I said, finishing.
She stood, "Thank you Erik," she said smiling at me. I did not smile back, but I did not hate her.
"Not at all," I said, lying down on my bed
"Don't you have something to say to me?" CJ asked innocently
"It this where I am supposed to thank you for saving my life?"
"Yes"
"Thank you for…that" in the end I could not quite bring myself to say it.
She laughed and shook her head. I watched her cross the room and collapse on her bed. "Overturn the world, change its character, yield to mad ideas, be even criminal -- but live." she said, closing her eyes.
"What?" I asked, caught off guard,
"In the end of the book, the Count says that to Morrel, right before Morrel drinks a potion that will kill him; of course it does not really kill him and he and Valentine are reunited, and then Haidee tells the Count she loves him and of course he loves her, so there you have it, a happy ending,"
"Why the hell did you tell me that!" I yelled at her, she was laughing hysterically, "I told you not to tell me!" I shouted, and I threw the wet cloth at her, hitting her in the shoulder. She simply laughed harder.
"Does it amuse you, to see me angry?" I glared at her
"Y..e..s.." She could barley speak she was laughing so hard
I gave up, she was insufferable. I sat back on my bed and slipped my mask off, to be honest it was rather uncomfortable; it rubbed painfully against my face every time I moved.
CJ was looking at me, "May I help you?" I asked bitterly, wishing she would stop staring.
"Can you get me a stake, a warm bed, and fresh clothes that don't smell like they were taken off a dead man?"
"No,"
"Than no, you can't help me,"
So she is trying to be clever, I thought, but she was still staring at me. "May I asked just what you are staring at?"
"Your face, it is quite…"
"Hideous?" I offered angrily, recovering my face with my mask,
"Don't do that…" CJ said in a surprisingly kind tone, "I was going to say 'unique'"
"Right," I growled, still covering my face with my mask,
"Come on, take the mask off, it must be uncomfortable," CJ said evenly, "I won't look at you if you want to be stubborn about it."
"I'm not being stubborn, I just don't like to be gawked at," But I took the mask off anyway, I did not want to sleep with it on.
"Who is gawking? I was just…"
"Gawking," I repeated firmly
"You know," she said, turning to look at me, "it is really not so bad, I mean, yes that one side of your face is very ugly, but the rest of you makes up for it"
"What?" I asked sharply
"The rest of you…your strong, tall," she was surveying me shrewdly, and by the tone of her voice she was not embarrassed in the least to say those things to me. I however; I felt my face turn an angry shade of red and I looked desperately for something else to throw at her. Much to my chagrin, I could find nothing.
"What is wrong with you girl?" I asked annoyed, "are blind or just idiotic?"
"Neither; I'm just saying; your not half bad, you just have a bad half," It was obvious she thought she was being clever; however her word play did not amuse me.
I silently fumed; it was hard to say exactly what about her complementing me made me so infuriated, perhaps I was just used to people despising me and being disgusted by me, when someone was not I had no idea how to react.
"This is the part where you say something nice about me back," CJ said, lying back down on her bed and placing her hands behind her head.
"Something nice about me back" I responded; I knew it was not particularly witty but really what else could I say?
CJ turned her head to look at me for a moment, then she just shook her head and laughed. "I am too tired to deal with you tonight," she said, then she blew out her candle and rolled over so her back was to me. I could hear her breathing slow and I knew she was asleep.
I couldn't help but wonder why I was not asleep as well. I had been exhausted in the cab, but now that I was in my bed I could not seem to sleep.
Carefully I reached into my pocket. With one last glance at CJ to make sure she was sleeping; I pulled the ring I had taken out of my pocket.
Looking at it in the soft candle light, it glittered like moonlight on water; it was perfect. I knew in my heart I had taken it for Christine; my mind refused to let her go, even though physically I had. I knew I was grabbing for empty air when I thought of getting her back; but the illusion suited me.
Perhaps I could give her this ring, I thought, maybe that would bring her back, if she saw I had more to give her than a dark lair. I wanted to prove I was worthy of her. Working as an assassin for the Paris government was not exactly what I had in mind to show my worth, but it was something.
Placing the ring back in my pocket and snuffing out my candle, I formed a plan, if I could get on the favored side of the police than there was a chance I could move my way up, and eventually earn clemency and be allowed to pursue a life with out the police chasing me. Then I could become a composer, or an architect, and then I could show Christine I could give her just as good a life as the Vicomte could. Still milling over my desperate plans, I fell asleep.
