Chapter Thirty One
"No," Christine whispered, shaking her head, tears coming once more. Not Jammes! She was the one true friend she had. Erik set her down on the bed and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I want you to stay here, Christine, I will see what has happened," he instructed. She wanted to argue but did not have the strength. She watched him walk out and turned, pressing her face against the pillow as she cried.
xXx
"How could anyone get in here? I have every entrance heavily guarded!" Erik hissed, looking down at the bloody body of little Jammes. She had been a good woman, and he knew she and Christine had become friends, which made him even angrier at her death.
"I have no idea how anyone could have gotten in here, my lord," Rupert said. Erik bent down and examined the body. She had been stabbed several times in the chest. He had done many things in his life, but killing a woman was not one of them. Whoever the bastard was that had done this was sick, and it meant that any of them could be next if they were not careful.
"Why would someone kill her? She is just a young girl," Rupert said. Erik sighed and shrugged. This young girl had saved both his and Christine's life that night with Philippe and this was her reward? It was not right. What bothered him even more was the fact that the killer was still somewhere in the manor.
xXx
Christine's eyes snapped open as she felt herself being pressed into the mattress, a hand covering her mouth. She had not meant to fall asleep but had just been so tired and had nothing else to do while she waited for Erik to come back. She tried to scream as she looked up into the eyes of Jacque but his hand muffled any sound. She began struggling, fear overcoming her as her first instinct was of survival.
He grinned down at her, his handsome face contorting into an ugly visage. He pressed something cold and sharp against her throat and she realized it was a dagger.
"Hello, love, have a nice nap?" he asked. All Christine could think about was Jammes' body and the fact that Jacque had to have been the one to kill her.
"I am going to enjoy this immensily, lovely," he whispered. Christine began whimpering, struggling with everything she had as he pulled her skirts up around her waist. He moved his hand away from her mouth but when she prepared to scream he pressed the dagger firmly against her quivering flesh.
"Scream, you little slut, and I will slit your throat and watch your blood flow with pleasure," he hissed. Christine swallowed.
"Why are you doing this? I did nothing to you," she whispered. He grinned nastily.
"You are too tempting for me, love. Besides, I get to fuck Carlotta after I kill you," he growled. Christine gasped, both at his cruel words and what they meant. Carlotta had sent him to kill her. Would this never end? All she wanted to do was start a life with Erik, nothing more.
"Your so perfect," he murmured, his hand running up and down her smooth thigh. Christine swallowed and pressed her legs together. He chuckled.
"Ah, no, no, no, no hiding, my sweet," he growled, yanking her thighs apart.
"Please," she whispered. He grinned, his hand taking unwanted liberties.
"You always thought you were to good for me. All those years ago you always thought you were better," he growled. Christine did not know what he was talking about but she had to think about something else. She tried to block her thoughts from what was happening but it was proving difficult, her fear overwhelming her.
"You should have been mine. You would have been mine if that damned masked monster had not gotten in my way," Jacque growled. She knew then that he was jealous. He had always wanted what he could not have, her. When he had taken her by force the first time he had known that he had ruined everything they could have had. When she was brought to him by Philippe he had taken what he wanted by force because he had known he could not get it any other way.
"He loves me," she whispered.
"No, he does not," he snapped. Christine realized that she could perhaps make him angry, even if it meant her death she would give anything to see her words affect him somehow. Perhaps she could even buy some time.
"Yes, he does, he gives me everything you would never be able to," Christine continued.
"Shut up," Jacque growled.
"Oh, when he touches me...I get such pleasure," she whispered, her voice stronger then she would have thought it could be in this situation. He slapped her and Christine could feel the copper taste of her blood filling her mouth.
"He is a monster, monsters do not know how to bed women," Jacque hissed, pressing the dagger against her throat. Christine knew that it was a blow to his ego that a man with a face like Erik's could give her pleasure when he himself had never been able to before.
She knew she had been everything to him when they were young and she knew that she was what he had wanted for a long time. She had been the pretty girl with the sweet temper in their village and she had seemed untouchable, the little innocent rose. Jacque was the type of man who would never give up on a challenge, which was what Christine represented; a challenge.
He had wooed her and made her fall in love with him, something that he had expected. But the moment he had gone for what he wanted most, her body, he had ruined any shot he had. How could this masked monster have the part of Christine that he had always wanted?
"He makes me moan his name in ecstasy!" she cried. He began beating her with his fists, his rage overcoming any rational thought. Christine curled into a ball and tried to imagine being in Erik's arms, safe and loved.