Thank you so much Barb for all the insights! I hadn't even thought of the car things and what not. I'm going to add in some explanations in a later chapter. If you find any other inconsistencies, please tell me. I have written this with mom brain! However, my Erik is wealthy but he also was living under a school theater to keep himself out of sight so a private plane would be a bit too flashy. Perhaps if he was living in a penthouse or something he'd have one haha! He's done this out of choice, so please bear with me. I hope this makes sense, or if not, that you won't give the story up.
Enjoy this chapter :)
Chapter Four
Christine had been on many road trips in her life. She spent most of her childhood in her fathers car as he traveled the country, playing his guitar for anyone who'd let him. It had been a wondrous time for her as a child, but she knew now it had been difficult for him. He was, after all, a single parent.
She had to admit, being on the road like this was thrilling. It filled her with a sense of nostalgia and warm fuzzy feelings. The roads. The abundant amount of semi trucks. The wide open ranges. Even the musty rest stops made her heart a little lighter.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she was on the run from the mafia and her companion was the man who had been the source of her suffering a year ago.
And dare she think it, she liked traveling with Erik. When they weren't brooding, or having awkward or angsty conversations, she was reminded of how knowledgeable he was. It seemed as if he knew everything about everything and it never failed to fascinate her.
She spoke of her classes that she was struggling in and the way the one of the managers at Waffle House didn't seem to like her. He would follow it up with explaining things she didn't understand with certain subjects and become baffled by the idea of anyone not liking her. It reminded her of the days where he was the first person she wanted to talk to, where she'd tell him everything and nothing. She had admittedly missed it.
During their third day of traveling, she was getting a bit restless. She asked him to stop at the next rest stop so she could relieve herself, stretch her legs, and get some fresh air. There was even a vending machine. Her stomach wasn't all too happy with her for eating so much junk food, but she didn't have many options ready for her.
When she returned to the car, Erik was leaning against the car door, phone to his ear and was speaking in a different language. She knew he could speak other languages but actually hearing it was another thing. His low, timbre voice made all of the unfamiliar syllables and vowels sound beautiful to her ears.
He saw her and got off the phone quickly, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. She glanced around, noticing no one was around. He still wore his shades and surgical mask despite this.
"Everything okay?" She questioned, a little suspicious of him on the phone. She hadn't seen him with one the whole time she'd been traveling.
"Of course," he reasoned immediately and that made her even more nervous. "I was updating the person I told you about, who will contact you when everything is safe."
"Oh." She paused and then realized something. "How come you can keep your phone but you threw mine out?"
"Because I programmed mine personally to be untraceable. Yours was easily tracked and I couldn't have that."
Christine was again reminded of how smart he was. Programmed his phone to be untraceable? Goodness, how did one get that sort of skill?
But it did seem handy to her all of a sudden. She adjusted her drink and snacks in her hands. "Do you think I could call Meg from your phone and tell her I'm okay? She has to have noticed my absence by now. She's my emergency contact at my job and I haven't been to work in three days." Erik hesitated, head lowering and she could already tell his answer was going to be no. "Please? It's important. Who knows what sort of things she's thinking about me. She might have even contacted the police!"
That seemed to stir him and he lifted his head. "I had thought of something along those lines. I suppose…" he slowly removed the phone from his pocket and stared down at it. "I suppose that is fine. Tell her you are traveling. That you forgot to tell her." Christine nodded in relief. "You can explain further once everything is safe."
"I promise."
He was still reluctant but he handed the phone over to her. In return, he held her vending machine items. She gave him the first real smile she'd given him and she was too busy pulling up the dial pad on his phone to notice his whole body freezing. She stared at the numbers and suddenly realized in horror that Meg had recently changed her phone number and she did not have it memorized.
"Oh no."
"What is it?" Erik asked of her.
She looked up at him with worried eyes. "I don't know her number. She changed it. It was in my phone but…"
"I'm sorry, Christine." He did sound regretful of her lost phone.
She frowned dejectedly and just about handed the phone back over to him but stopped herself. Wait… there was one other person she could call. But the man standing in front of her would not approve.
Steeling herself for his reaction, she met his gaze through the sunglasses. "I should call Raoul," she told him, trying not to feel worried over Erik's reaction. Even when he visibly flinched at the idea. "He can tell Meg for me. I know it's not ideal but… it's the only thing I can think of."
Erik was silent for too long of a time and she tried to get herself ready for an argument. However, it wasn't necessary. He breathed heavily beneath the mask and seemed defeated. "Yes, yes of course. Go ahead. Tell him the same story, so you understand?"
Christine couldn't believe her ears. Was he actually agreeing? "Of course!" She looked back down at the screen and punched his number in. It hadn't changed the whole time she'd known him.
"Five minutes."
She glanced up at Erik and nodded. It wasn't until she heard the ringing that she got nervous. She hadn't heard his voice in a long time. They had only contacted each other through texts every once in a while and it had never been for anything important. How would he react when he realized it was her?
"Hello?"
"Raoul?"
"Christine?!" His soft voice transformed into relieved shock. It wasn't quite the reaction she had anticipated.
"Uh, yeah," she answered awkwardly, feeling Erik's eyes on her. "It's me. Listen-"
"Jesus Christ Christine! Do you know how much Meg and I have been worried about you?! You just disappeared!"
She was surprised he had even been informed. Meg, she understood, given she was the emergency contact but Raoul? Had Meg gone to him for answers?
"Uh yeah sorry about that. I meant to tell Meg but I… I lost my phone," she forced a laugh that she hoped was convincing. "I'm traveling. Like a road trip? It… sounded like a good idea. I used to do it all the time with my dad growing up."
"A road trip? Jesus, Chris you gave us a heart attack. You didn't even tell your job you were leaving?"
"It was a spur of the moment thing, heh." God she hoped he bought her story. It sounded weak even to her.
"This is so unlike you," he commented, his voice lowering and she could tell he was believing her. Thank goodness. She relaxed.
"I know," she feigned casualness. "I thought it would be enlightening."
"And has it been?"
She looked again at Erik who was hanging on every word she said, probably to make sure she spoke what she was supposed to. "Yeah it kinda has."
"Good, I mean- I've sorta worried about you from time to time, ya know? I know we don't talk much anymore but… it hasn't been the same without you around."
Christine's throat felt like something stuck in it and she lowered her gaze. Her heart hurt for the relationship that she had fought for and failed to keep. "Oh… yeah. I get that. But don't be worried, okay? I'm fine. And can you… can you tell Meg everything? I don't have her new number since I lost my phone."
"Oh yeah, of course," he answered immediately, seeming to be relieved with the subject change. "If you need anything, let me know."
"Thanks Raoul, but I… I'm fine."
"Promise?" Just then, Erik murmured to her that it looked like it was going to rain and in a strike of bad luck, Raoul heard him. "Who is with you?"
Christine froze and she caught eyes with Erik, her mind going blank. "Oh, uh - um, no one is with me. What are you talking about?" She laughed for effect but it sounded unconvincing to even her. Erik took a step toward her, shaking his head, and looked like he wanted her to hang up. "I gotta go okay?"
"What, no! I heard someone. A man. I know that voice." Raoul suddenly seemed panicked and she felt caught. "Is that who I think it is?"
"Who? No one is here, Raoul." Her voice shook. "I gotta go okay? Don't worry about me. And tell Meg I'm okay."
"I've heard that before, Chris. Don't you dare lie to me. If that psychopath has you again, I swear to God! You tell me right now Christine Daaé. Are you with him? I will come get you, I swear!"
"No! It's not like that Raoul!" Her voice caught over a sob when she said his name and it was at that point that Erik stole the phone from her and hung up for her. If she could see his expression she was sure he was livid. Instead, she just focused on how she was feeling and put her face in her hands.
"Once again, your young man is proving himself a meddling fool," Erik stated in quiet fury and it did nothing to help her feel better. She shook her head, unable to remove her hands. "If he puts your safety in jeopardy, I will be forced to do something about it. You understand this, correct?"
Christine felt another sob come from her throat and she slid her palms down, holding her cheeks as she looked up at him. A couple of raindrops fell onto her forehead but she ignored them. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I thought he would understand."
Erik didn't respond to that comment and instead, told her to get in the car before it began to rain harder. Christine numbly got into the car, her brain a mess. What if Raoul went to the police? What if somehow the mafia found out where they were? What if these efforts for her safety were in vain and it was her fault because of calling him in the first place?
"I shouldn't have called him," she spoke miserably aloud as Erik pulled away from the rest stop. Her vending machine items were placed between them in the center console, forgotten now.
"You cannot control others, Christine," he spoke gruffly and she knew he was just as upset. His grip on the steering wheel was tight and he was driving rather quickly. He also refused to look in her direction. He probably blamed her for this.
"I should have known he'd jump to conclusions."
Erik didn't disagree and it made her feel worse. "I will not let anything happen to you. It is my own regrets that have put you in danger and I will not rest until you are safe."
It was probably meant to comfort her but the guilt was eating at her. She left it for a very long time and he did not speak either. The rain got harder and yet he still drove faster than the other cars on the road, which would have made her nervous if she hadn't been too overwhelmed.
The sun was gone by the time it stopped raining, the night arriving and with it, more anxiety. Erik asked her if she needed anything, breaking the silence and she shook her head. He did not push her, seeming to know she was upset and probably not knowing what to say to comfort her.
She didn't think there was anything that could make her feel better at the moment.
He continued to drive and she fiddled with the stray string that had unraveled at the hem of her shirt. Finally, she turned to him, voicing her worries aloud. "Will I get in trouble if we are found by the authorities?" She thought of the current stolen car she was sitting in. How they must have been on surveillance cameras at some point in their travels.
"It's rare that we would be apprehended," he told her immediately, sounding so confident that she almost believed him. "However, if that were the case, I want you to tell them that I took you again. That this was all unwilling. Do you understand?"
Christine did not like that story in the slightest even though it was partly true. She had no say in any of what had happened to her. She had allowed Erik to lead her completely and blindly. "But won't you get in trouble? I don't like that. It's not the truth."
"It will ensure you are safe and out of trouble," he told her. "Do not worry for me."
That disturbed her further. "How can I not? You're going out of your way to save me and you just want me to be fine with you going to jail or worse for me?"
He laughed, baffling her and momentarily taking her off guard. The sound was pleasant to her ears and a warmth spread through her belly. "They can try." He was very amused by her then. "I will never be in any sort of prison, my dear. The only prison Erik will ever be in is his own mind."
Nothing of that comforted her and she threw her head back against the back of the seat in exasperation. "I hate this."
"As do I."
Meg followed her mother through the dark hallways that she had never even known about under her beloved fire stained theater. Her mother had used a fake wall, something she'd only seen in movies, to get them there. It was cold. Dank. And if she wasn't with someone else who held a flashlight, she would have been terrified. How did someone live down there for so long?
It was no wonder he'd gone crazy.
They had been moving silently through so many hallways and down stairwells that Meg was sure she'd have gotten lost trying to get out. "How much longer?" She couldn't help but be impatient. All of this was putting a sickening feeling in her stomach.
"Not much," her mother told her stiffly. Meg took a deep breath but immediately regretted it, breathing dust and mold, making her cough in her hand.
Finally, finally, they arrived at what looked like a normal looking wooden door. She was confused, expecting a medieval chamber of some sort. She watched in surprise as her mother pulled a key out of her pocket, giving her daughter a look with pursed lips, and unlocked the door. Meg gaped. She'd known her mom was involved with this man but she hadn't known just how much.
"I used to bring him necessities. Things he couldn't retrieve on his own," she explained, turning the knob. "He relied on me." Something about the way she said that was wistful and regretful. Like she missed it.
She couldn't help but shudder. The door swung open and she gasped. It was a… house! They walked into what looked like a sitting room. A large piano sat in the corner. Comfortable sofa and chairs adorned the Parisian rugs on the hardwood floors. There were books and papers and candles and clutter everywhere.
There were doors and a hallway, giving the illusion of an actual house to what she assumed was other rooms such as bedrooms and bathrooms and a kitchen. Who knew what else.
She peered around the room curious, trying to imagine a hideous crazy man living down there. But it looked strangely… comfortable. Normal. If it weren't for the fact that they were levels below the school theater.
"He's not here."
Meg looked to her mom. "How do you know?" She looked toward the hallway. "Could he be sleeping?"
"He would have known we were coming before we even reached the second landing. He has eyes and ears everywhere and vicarious traps to protect his home," her mother explained, pacing around the room and looking at everything with an odd look on her face.
"Then why did we come all the way down here?"
Her mother didn't look at her and instead picked up a paper laying astray on the piano. "To check up on how he was living. I see he has let himself go."
Meg peered around the room with different eyes. "This isn't how it normally looks?"
"No." Her mother took a breath and sat the paper down. "He was rather fond of tidiness." A small smile wistfully graced her features and Meg didn't understand.
"What is he to you momma?"
Her mom pursed her lips and then made her way to the door. "Nothing anymore. He is not here. If Christine is indeed with him, I fear we will not learn anything here. Let us go."
"But what if there's some sort of clue?" Meg scrambled to take another look around before following her mother out the door.
"There won't be. Not here at least." She locked the door back up and led Meg back up. "But I believe I know someone who could know something."
"Who?"
"A mutual friend." Did her mother live a double life? Meg stared at her back, unsure of what to think. But she knew one thing. If it would help her find Christine, she would do anything.
Once they were in the car, she watched her mother pull her phone out of her pocket and dial an unknown number. Meg didn't recognize it and it hadn't been saved. Anxious, she heard in the silence of the car, the line ring until someone finally answered.
"Mrs. Giry. What a pleasant surprise." Meg did not recognize the voice but it was obvious he was very friendly with her mother.
"I'm afraid it isn't a pleasant occasion, my friend. Christine is missing and so is our mutual friend."
"Ah yes," he said regretfully and that immediately put both women on edge. "I have spoken with him. Currently, I am out of town for similar reasons."
"So she is with him? Are you with them?"
"Yes, she is with him. No, I am not. Our mutual past has caught up with us and I'm afraid Miss Daaé was considered a target in order to get to him. He is taking her to a safe house." Meg's heart dropped. Oh my god.
"A safe house? Where?"
"I cannot tell you in case the call has been tapped. I have said too much already."
Her mother put her hand to her own heart, looking horrified. "My god, Nadir. What sort of things have you both gotten yourselves in?"
"Too dark for words." He sounded mournful.
Her mother seemed to be at a loss for words. "And of Christine?"
"She will be safe. I have been instructed to contact her when it is safe. At that point she will have the option to return."
"How will you know?"
He paused for a moment. "He will tell me."
"I see."
"I must go now and I fear this will be the last time we speak."
Her mother looked stricken and Meg could see that it was devastating news to the woman. The man seemed to be implying he'd be dying or something. She hoped Christine was alright.
"Understood," her mother said, sounding far more collected than Meg saw on her face. "Goodbye, my friend."
"Farewell." The phone went silent and her mother dropped the phone to her lap, staring ahead in numb shock.
"Momma?" Meg asked fearfully. "I don't understand. Christine's in danger and he is with her? Shouldn't we call the police?"
"No, Meg," her mother said, voice cracking. She put her phone away, sniffed, and turned the car on. "She is in the safest hands. Erik will make sure she is safe."
Erik. It was the first time she'd heard a name in reference to the infamous phantom of the theater. For some reason, it rang strange to her. As if the ghost had become more human.
"Are you certain?" She had no choice but to believe her mother. The woman who knew him most. Who knew more than she knew.
"I've never been more certain." She drove them off the lot and toward the laundry mat to drop Meg off. "There's nothing we can do for her now. She is in his hands."
None of that was comforting.
