Most of you seemed to be okay with how Christine handled Lana. I thought of what I would do if someone had attacked the man I love…verbally or otherwise; I'd be out for blood.
Just for the record, I have nothing against tattoos, piercings or the like, I am just using them as a reference with Erik. He has been different all his life, and does not understand the need of others to draw attention to themselves by being different. Please understand that.
Anywhoooo – enjoy.
BEYOND THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER 25
They sat at the Victorian Cottage eating a very early breakfast the following morning. They had just come back from a swim in the private pool and knew that they needed to prepare for the trip to New York.
"I don't think Lana will be bothering us anymore." Christine announced while doing her hair.
Erik chuckled and Christine looked up at him as he came into the bathroom to shave. "No, I suppose she won't…at least not if she knows what's good for her."
Christine watched him lather his face and suddenly felt the urge to shave his face. She reached over and gently took the razor from his hand.
His baffled, but amused look only made her smile beguilingly at him.
"Do you mind?" She asked, staring directly into his liquid green eyes.
Erik shook his head, went into the other room, and grabbed a chair. He sat down in front of the mirror and watched as she lovingly ran the razor over his face.
"You smell so good, Erik." She purred as she eased over his Adam's Apple.
He had just showered, getting the chlorine from the pool off him. He smelled like fresh body wash and his favorite cologne.
Erik's eyes were closed as he relished the trust he had in her. Never, up until almost two weeks ago, had he thought to be in this position. Trust was something he didn't give easily, but Christine had easily gained it.
Christine was almost done, when she noticed a single tear running down his newly shaven face. Her heart constricted and she wiped it away with the pad of her thumb.
Erik opened his eyes, and Christine was amazed at the deeper green they had become. His emotions showed in his eyes.
He wound his arms around her waist and gently pulled her to him, cradling her in his embrace.
Finally, he found words to say, "There have been few opportunities in my life to put my trust in someone…Nadeesh, Rebekah, and Rachel have been it…until you." His voice caressed her ear as he nuzzled his face in her hair.
"You will probably never know all that you have given me, Christine…I only pray that you never regret it." He whispered.
She pulled back and looked sternly into his face, "Erik, we will have hard times, every couple does, but I am your wife until death claims one of us; there will be no regrets." Watching him, she could still see shadows in his eyes, shadows of his pain and betrayal at the hands of his father and countless others.
She wanted to reach inside him and heal all his anguish with her touch, but she knew there was no magic cure – only the assurance that he would never walk alone again.
She caressed his face with her hands, and placed a tender kiss to his lips, "I will never go to bed angry at you; I will never betray your trust; and you will never, as long as there is breath in my body, be alone again."
There was no passion in their embrace or in the kisses they shared; there was mutual compassion being shared and a heart was being healed
"I trust you." He whispered; and Christine realized the importance of that gift.
OOOOOOOOOOO
Somehow, they had moved to the bed and fallen asleep in each others arms. Erik awoke, in complete shock…it had to be the first time he had ever taken a nap after only being awake for an hour or so.
Christine stirred next to him and stretched as she came to complete awareness.
"What time is our flight?" Christine asked as she stood up and stretched again.
"12:30." Erik replied. They both looked at the clock by the bed and it was 10:15.
They finished the packing, packed the car, and headed for the airport. They would get there just in time.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
They sat in first class, playing a game of checkers as the flight attendant tended to their every need. Christine was certain the attractive young woman was eyeing Erik with interest, and made it a point of making her wedding ring very visible.
Erik, for his part, was completely unaware of the attention he was inadvertently demanding.
He jumped Christine's pieces and smiled inhis victory; knowing she was getting a bit perturbed at losing all the time.
"Did you call the Klawson's and tell them that Cheshire was coming to live with us?" He asked, trying to bring a smile to her face.
"I did…I even told them I was married." Christine confessed.
Erik feigned a fainting spell with his hand to his head and a shocked look on his face, "Ohhhhhhh, the horror, the horror!"
Christine giggled at his antics, "You're a nut!"
She giggled again, as he tickled her. "You bring out the best in me…if nut is what I am, than a nut I shall be." He proudly professed, holding his hand to heart as if reciting Shakespeare.
They smiled at each other and then shared a kiss as the plane took off, flying them to New York, Cheshire, Meg; and hopefully, Erik's mother.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Meg was waiting for them at the airport and they all went to lunch. Erik was surprised at how few looks of disparagement he actually received. Most people didn't even give his mask a second glance.
"Compared to the looks of the younger generation these days, your mask is not even that strange." Meg assured him.
"Promise me our children will be normal." Erik begged of Christine.
They had just past a group of teenagers with various body piercings and tattoos; one even had surgically implanted fangs.
"With us as parents?" Christine emphasized, "They won't be normal…they'll be extraordinary!"
"That really doesn't make me feel any better." Erik frowned.
Christine stopped and put her arms around him, "Oh, stop being so brooding." She teased, with a tweak to his dimpled chin.
New York was the same hustle and bustle world that it had always been, something Erik strongly disliked about the large city. He preferred the quiet countryside, rolling hills, or oceanfront…anywhere there weren't so many people.
"Why don't you head on up to Ms. Barnhouse's office, I'll be along in about an hour." Erik assured her.
"Where are you going?" Christine asked, dejectedly.
Erik smiled at the look on her face; she hated being apart from him. "I have some business to take care of at the bank…" He stated, "…go on, darling – I'll be along in a little while."
Christine watched him walk away and head up the street toward the bank. She had no idea what he was up to, but something told her not to worry.
The minute Erik showed his ID, he remembered he had never actually shown his face to these people, he had always been a signature or a voice on the other end of the phone.
"Mr. St. Clair…it is, indeed, an honor to finally meet you." The bank manager sang. "You are much younger than I had anticipated you would be."
"Thank you." Erik replied, not sure how to respond to that.
"What can we do for you today, sir?" The manager asked.
"I wish to add my wife to all my bank notes, accounts, and investments." Erik stated.
"Of course, sir." He indicated a chair and Erik sat down. The man left for a few minutes and returned with a pile of papers.
"She is taking care of some business right now, but I will bring her in later today to sign everything." Erik stated.
"That will be fine."
They went to Erik's safety deposit box and Erik sifted through the contents. He removed his birth certificate, and placed within it, his wedding certificate.
Erik added her name to every important paper, making sure she was the next of kin on his life insurance policy, all investments, savings account, IRA's, everything.
"I think that should do it." The manager stated, as they walked back into the main lobby. "I look forward to meeting your wife."
Erik shook the man's outstretched hand and chuckled as everyone whispered about who he was. He walked out the front door and went to join his wife.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
When Christine entered the office of Abigail Barnhouse, she immediately felt at ease. Her matronly demeanor made Christine feel a bond with this woman, even though she really did not know a great deal about her.
Her smile reached her eyes as she accepted Christine and Meg into her office and they sat down in the chairs in front of the desk. Abigail, liking the closeness of people, sat on top of her desk with her legs dangling down and her ankles crossed.
"Wow, I hadn't expected you back so soon." Abigail admitted.
Meg handed the older woman the edited article and thanked her for the opportunity to work with Christine.
"You're welcome, young lady." Abigail smiled. "You young ladies make me wish that I had had a daughter." Her voice faded off in thought, and Christine noted a distant sadness in her eyes.
"How many children do you have?" Christine asked.
Abigail smiled a sad smile and looked at Christine with tears in her eyes, "I had a son…once." She dropped her head in thought, but as quickly as she had dropped it, she raised it and blinked away the pending tears. "But that was long ago…"
Christine felt inclined to change the subject, "I hope you will enjoy the article…Erik, I mean, Mr. St. Clair, was more that willing to open up to me as soon as he knew I was not out to expose him."
Abigail was regarding Christine with a strange look, one that seemed to indicate confusion, or intrigue.
"I'd like for you to look over the article now, if you don't mind." Christine suggested, "If there are any changes you would like, then we can discuss them and find the right solution."
She grasped the papers in her hand, shook her head, stepped down off the desk, and sat down in her chair. She opened it up and began reading.
"Many of us feel as though we had a horrible childhood; we feel that we were dealt a bad hand in life and the world owes us. We voice our loud disapproval and do everything within our power to remedy our own pitiful situations.
"I am sorry to say, that, not long ago, I was one of these pitiful creatures. It was unfair that my mother was taken from me at an early age and my loving father had to sacrifice his dreams to make a home for me. When he died, I thought my world had come to an end. However, my outlook has changed since a certain man entered my life.
"Having been sent on a journey to find, and interview, a man as elusive and mystical as the Snow Leopard of the Himalayas, maybe more so; I was as skeptical about his existence as every other person I spoke with. It took me six months just to learn about his previous residence, I still had no idea where he currently resided.
"As fate would have it, I found some information that led me to an orphanage not far from New York. In that orphanage, I meant a woman – and not just any woman, this woman turned out to be Erik St. Clair's half-sister.
"Yes, you've heard the name whispered on the lips of top executives and his architectural designs have been praised for their beauty and sensibility. His legendary and vast wealth has been the envy of many all over the United States and Europe.
"This young woman protected him with every cryptic word she graced me with and the loyalty in her eyes and body language led me to believe that I was not going to get anything out of her. She had served to prove one thing, he did exist…and this woman knew where he was.
"For reasons which eluded me at the time, Mr. St. Clair agreed to meet me on his private island and discuss the questions I was sent to ask. I was shocked, honored, and nervous – but this was what I lived for.
"My editor and best friend, Meg Giry, accompanied me and we found ourselves being welcomed into a tight family circle consisting of another half-sister, her husband, and their seven-year-old son.
"My first encounter with the phantom-like, Erik St. Clair, was an audible one. His mesmeric voice filled the room from a hidden cellar. He had intercom systems placed in each room so that his family could communicate with him if need be.
"Needless to say, this became rather bothersome for a hands-on girl like me. I challenged Mr. St. Clair to a game of tennis. If I won, he answered all my questions; it he won…now that I think about it, he never stated his terms – and he didn't have to, because I won.
"Being the ever-curious journalist that I am, I had already caught a glimpse of Mr. St. Clair the night before the tennis match and I learned a very disturbing piece of information when I caught a glimpse of his features.
"I knew him…I had gone to school with him many years ago and the experience had not been a pleasant one, for either of us. I locked that information away for another time; which ended up being the following day.
"Now, for you ladies reading this article, when Erik St. Clair walked out onto the tennis court in a pair of shorts and polo shirt, my tongue hit the ground. I had expected a much older man, even though his sister was nineteen. His stride was elegant and confident, but at the same time, there was a definite vulnerability to him.
"The white mask upon the right side of his face did nothing to deter from the ethereal beauty of the man. He was breathtaking; six-foot-three, one-hundred-ninety pounds, gorgeous green eyes; full, wavy, ebony hair down to his collar – and thirty-years-old.
"Well, I tried to concentrate on the game, and must have done a good job – since I won. He sat across from me and those eyes sank into my mind; the same eyes that had haunted me for twenty years.
"I learned of a violent childhood which found a six-year-old boy witnessing the abuse of his mother by a man he had called father. His mother never cried out in pain or protest, until his father turned on him.
"The violence escalated one night with a gunshot ripping through the night. In her desperation to save her son from his father, Erik's mother had pulled a gun on her husband.
"She fired.
"She missed.
"They struggled.
"In the ensuing struggle, the gun went off a second time, only this time it didn't miss."
Christine noticed a look of pure pain cross Abigail's delicate features. Tears were streaming down her face as she pictured the events in her head. She said nothing, but continued to read.
"The bullet found its mark in the right cheek of young Erik. It tore through his face with fierce accuracy, lodging in the back of his head, where it remains to this day.
"His father beat his mother and pulled a gravely injured Erik into the cellar, put him in shackles, and gagged him. He then fired a shot into the cold ground, leaving his wife to think he had killed her only son.
"Erik horrifically listened as his father beat his mother until she made no more sound, and then Erik heard him slam the door and leave.
"It was a few hours later that Erik heard his mother stumble out of the house crying for her lost son…he never saw her again.
Abigail dropped the article and pressed her hands to her weeping face. She could read no more.
Christine knew the article was hard reading, but Abigail was a seasoned professional – what was causing such a show of emotions?
Christine heard a soft whisper behind her and turned to see Erik standing in the doorway of the office.
His eyes were on Abigail, and there were tears running down his face, as he saw the recognition and love in her eyes.
"Mother." Was all he said.
TBC