Here you go my loyal readers. Chapter 29 is ready for your perusal! Thank you again to all my reviewers. I always love to hear from all of you. And once again a huge thanks to my beta Juliana. Her suggestions have been a huge help! Other than that I don't have much to add. Enjoy!
Chapter 29: A Phantom's Anger
Erik sat mutely in the hay loft of the small barn behind the Donovan cottage, his back propped against a rather large pile of sweet smelling hay, one hand raised to rub disbelieving over the brooding frown marring his strained features. Opening his eyes, the man dully studied the eddies of dust swirling through the sun-streaked air just to the left of where he hunched. Slowly he raised his head, holding out one hand so that the very tips of his fingers grazed the nearest bar of golden light, his movement sending up new riots of dancing dust particles into the air. With fingers outstretched, Erik turned his hand over in the sunlight, intently watching the changing hues of his skin as shadows highlighted the creases over his knuckles and a small scar on his thumb. Slowly, with an intensity the man himself didn't seem to notice, he closed his fingers about the almost substantial bar of light. As his fingers passed through rather than grabbing hold of something solid, a dark, boiling whirlwind kicked up behind his wide staring eyes.
With a growl Erik dropped his hand, pounding the fist into the wooden planks of the floor. Amazing really, how so much of my life can be summed up with that one motion. Me reaching out for something light and wonderful only to find that my fingers slip right through.
He had spent a full twenty-four hours hidden like a coward in the rafters of the blasted barn, but he could not, despite being fearless in most areas, push himself to face Brielle just yet. The task was simply beyond the furthest reaches of his courage. How in hell was he supposed to look her in the eye and explain the reasoning behind his boorish actions, particularly when he could not even sort out the reason for himself?
Punishing the floor once again with a vicious punch, Erik only distantly registered the pain that laced up his knuckles at the blow. One of Brielle's doe-eyed cows lowed mournfully beneath him as his thrashing startled it out of a light doze.
Raising his slightly bruised hand back up to his face Erik returned to rubbing obsessively over his brow, attempting to push out the darkness of his thoughts with every circle of his fingers. Why is it that I am constantly ruining everything I touch? Even the things I care about I destroy eventually. I should not have stayed here for so long. I should have known I would do something like this, attacking a young girl like an animal on the kitchen floor.
Biting his lip at the embarrassing physical response that mere memories evoked, Erik lowered his face even more. That was the worst part of the entire situation. There was a part of him that had reveled in rolling across Brielle's kitchen floor with her securely caught up in his arms, that still did not repent the atrocious liberties he had taken. No, far from feeling regret, that section of his mind actually longed to take advantage of her again. He had known she was feeling tired and vulnerable, but instead of respecting that he had exploited it to pursue his own gratification. I truly am a beast. It was funny really, the very thing that people had been telling him his whole life had turned out to be true.
The fact that he seemed to recall Brielle responding to his touch did not alleviate the guilt weighing in his heart. Erik chalked that bit of his memory up to wishful thinking. He must have deluded himself somehow to remember her touch so clearly, to remember her tugging him closer, and to remember her eyes sliding shut in ecstasy.
Shaking slightly as his mind replayed these deceiving images before his eyes, Erik raised one hand and slowly pulled his mask from his face. He shuddered as the warm dusty air brushed softly over the newly exposed right side of his face, the pleasant tingling of the air touching the over-sensitive skin bringing his wandering thoughts back into focus. With a sigh, he laid his hand over the deformed half of his face, his fingers splaying out to encompass the very thing that had both defined and ruined his life.
Even without a mirror, with only his fingers guiding the way, Erik slowly traced his hand over every mismatched ridge and sunken crevice of the horror that was his face. The image which blossomed to life within his mind was nothing new to him; the disgusting, corpse-like visage had long since been burned permanently into every corner of his psyche. Yet despite the familiarity of what he felt, Erik could not help but cringe away from that part of himself which he hated above all others.
Dropping his hand quickly from his face, Erik turned to retrieve his mask from where it had disappeared into the hay. A loud empty growl issued from his stomach, making him pause in his search to glare down at his offending abdomen. Damn, I'll have to go back sometime. Maybe I can wait until it is dark out to grab something to eat. Startled by this thought Erik laughed darkly. Sometimes I amaze myself with the stupidity which pours out of my head. What a coward I have become that I cannot even walk through the front door and face that woman like a man.
Distantly, the sound of the barn door banging open against the wall brought his eyes darting up and away from the hay. A flash of pride blazed across his face at the thought that he hadn't heard the hinges squeal to announce the new arrival; two weeks ago he had thoroughly oiled the old hardware into silence. Erik had not gloated for long when the smell of freshly baked bread wafted up to the rafters, catching his attention and for a moment distracting him completely from his train of thought.
"Erik?" Brielle's voice called out loudly in the relative quiet of the barn. "Erik, I know you are in here."
Staying perfectly still the man in question listened intently, hoping perhaps she would go away if not encouraged by a reply. His pulse instantly accelerated into a panicked pounding within his chest as the sound of her approaching footsteps echoed up from the barn floor. When the ladder leading up to his hiding place gave a slight jerk Erik started, slightly annoyed at her stubbornness. Here it comes… he thought, with dread rolling sickeningly about his stomach. She is going to ask that I leave. Finally I stepped too far. I should not have stayed so long.
The top of Brielle's dove white hair appeared over the edge of the hay loft as the woman struggled up the ladder in her bulky skirts. One of her highly polished wooden combs caught a bar of light, glimmering darkly against the stark brightness of her hair. An odd sense of warmth blossomed within his chest at the sight of her oddly colored locks, quelling for a moment the panic churning within him. Despite himself he was glad to see her, even if it would prove to be their last meeting. God I am a fool…
Just before the woman's eyes appeared from below Erik remembered with stark terror that he did not have his mask on, it still lay somewhere in the hay. Only able to turn his face to the side before the rest of her head appeared, Erik barely even had time to clamp a hand firmly over the horror of his deformity. With his heart beating painfully against the front of his ribcage, he watched with bated breath as Brielle struggled up the ladder.
Irritated, he noticed she wasn't even looking his way, but was focused intently on where her feet were stepping. Taking the opportunity of her distraction, Erik used his free hand to shuffle about in the hay next to where he sat, searching with growing panic for his wayward mask.
The sound of his frantic search drawing her attention, Brielle finally glanced his way, a shy smile curling the corners of her lips. "I knew I would find you here," she stated matter-of-factly as she heaved a wicker basket up onto the landing, though she hesitated on the ladder. "I brought you something to eat. By now you must be terribly hungry." Noticing his odd behavior, Brielle's brow drew down slightly. "Whatever are you doing?"
"None of your business," he snapped automatically, the little defensive demon in his mouth spouting venom before he could think better of it. A silence stretched taut between them then like a string of barbed wire pulled between two posts.
Tapping her fingers nervously against the top ladder rung, Brielle looked for once as if she were at a loss for words. And no wonder, the poor girl bravely comes to check on the wellbeing of her attacker and I foolishly snap at her. Sighing, Erik paused in his search; though he did not turn his face towards her, he quickly glanced her way. "I am sorry. I didn't mean that…I was just looking for…well I cannot find my…" He stopped there, the quiet understanding he saw on her face bringing him up short. Somehow, under the gaze of those wonderful clear eyes he felt very childish scraping around in the hay for his mask.
With a quick nod, Brielle came up the last few steps and clamored onto the hay loft landing, her skirts catching on a nail and sending her face first into the hay. "Blast these damned skirts!" she hissed, giving the offending material a jerk.
Despite the seriousness of the situation Erik couldn't help but smile, having long since learned to laugh at this woman's odd use of vulgarities rather than cringe. "You should not be climbing up ladders; you will break your neck."
Huffing, Brielle picked a piece of hay from her blouse. "It is not a habit I enjoy, I assure you. However, the need that I do so arose so here I am," she said simply as she climbed to her feet, shaking out her skirts.
Now finding that it was he without a thing to say, Erik could only stare across the few feet that lay between them in awkward silence. He knew he should immediately apologize to her for his actions the previous day, but sitting there without his mask and covered in hay as he was, Erik felt more vulnerable just then than he had at any other moment in his life. The thought that she would now be forced to throw him out resurfaced in his mind, momentarily blocking out even his obsessive search for his mask.
With an odd half-smile Brielle slowly bent down and plucked something from the hay. Only as she brushed the thing clean did Erik notice she was now holding his mask in both of her hands. A brief hair-raising moment passed when he was certain she would not be giving it back to him, but even as this thought crossed his mind the mutiny he had thought he had seen in her face flickered away. Without a word, Brielle handed the dusty mask to him, their fingers brushing fleetingly in the exchange.
Clearing her throat, Brielle turned her face from him as he slipped the mask back into place. "I brought you some food in case you wish to extend your stay out here; however…"
"Brielle," he burst out suddenly, interrupting her in mid-sentence. "I know it would be too much to ask for you to forgive my boorish behavior, for I know I have betrayed all bounds of the friendship you have shown me over the last few months. I will save you from the painful task of asking me to leave and will simply be on my way as soon as it is possible."
"Are you that eager to leave Erik?" she asked quietly.
"Well I only assumed that…well…" Why isn't she agreeing that I should go? Shouldn't she be weeping now over what I did…or at least yelling?
"What I was going to say before you stopped me was that I had hoped you would consider returning to the house. Aria has been asking for you and I…well honestly I have been acting very childish. I let you stew out here for a day before I could work up the courage to come out and face you. I was willing to let you believe you had done something wrong so that I could put off embarrassing myself."
"What are you talking about?"
Spinning her wedding ring about her finger nervously, she gazed down at her feet. "Erik, you only reacted as any man would have and I deliberately antagonized you because fighting with you was the only thing I could think of to forestall madness. Over the course of your stay here it is a fact that we have developed a friendly liking for each other. We are both, I daresay, rather lonely people…perhaps that just got the better of us."
Flabbergasted, Erik stared up at Brielle, unable to comprehend what she was saying to him. She wasn't angry. She wasn't hurt. If anything the blasted woman was acting abashed over her own behavior rather than paying any heed to his. Could it be that my memory wasn't completely faulty? Did she actually return my embrace? a little voice whispered in the back of his head.
"I don't think I will ever understand you," Erik murmured. "You act like nothing happened."
"Now why in the world would I let my dearest friend torment himself just because of a kiss?" she asked quietly, her voice thickening slightly toward the end. "And you have been tormenting yourself, no doubt."
"And how is it that you know…"
"You forget that I know you Erik. I have learned how you think." A smile brightened her features as she glanced at his face. "You always look so surprised when I say something like that." Bending down, she picked up the basket from where it sat near the edge of the hayloft. "So should I leave this here, or will you be coming back to the house?"
"Brielle I don't trust myself anymore. I don't think…"
Sighing, Brielle scuffed one foot against the floorboards, shooting him a pointed look from under her snowy lashes. "It should be more than enough that I trust you."
Feeling reckless in the face of such astonishing faith, Erik opened his mouth before he could think better of it, somehow wishing to rattle the foundations of the conviction on which she so solidly stood. "And what if I told you that you only know a part of who I am? What if I were truly someone terrible deep down? Even now I could be using your kindness to…"
Erik's self-deprecating rant came to a sudden halt when Brielle turned away from him and started back down the ladder. Climbing to his feet, irritated by her seeming disinterest, he followed her to the edge of the hay loft.
"Excuse me!"
Glancing up the rungs at him Brielle smiled. "Yes?" she asked as she hopped down to the ground.
"I was trying to ask you something important, you blasted woman!"
Raising a hand to her ear she merely stared up at him before shrugging her shoulders. "I am sorry. What?"
"Come back up here."
"Didn't you just say a few minutes ago I shouldn't be climbing up ladders? You come down here," she shouted back, a smugness glittering blatantly in her expression.
Throwing up his hands in utter annoyance, Erik growled several inventive curses under his breath. With one easy motion the man swung onto the ladder, descending with remarkable agility. Once on the ground he turned to resume his character assassination, only to notice that Brielle no longer stood where she had been moments ago. Looking around with growing frustration, Erik caught sight of the woman's skirts disappearing out the barn door.
Feeling the need to pull his hair out all of a sudden, Erik shook his head in disbelief. She had never acted like this before, like she was not very interested in what he had to say - it was dumbfounding. Though he had been trying to rouse her pique only moments ago, her lackadaisical attitude now cut his pride slightly. He hardly knew what to think. How dare she walk away while I was speaking to her? Waspish, irritating woman! Probably expects me to follow her…or perhaps she doesn't care.
Brushing hay off his coat and pants, Erik took an uncertain step forward before setting off in an all out run after Brielle's retreating figure. He caught up to her easily as she delicately picked her way across the yard. Taking hold of one of her arms he spun her around to face him, suddenly angrier at her than at himself.
Her smiling face was not something he had expected. Feeling as if he had been tricked somehow, Erik let go of her arm hastily. "What are you grinning at?"
"Am I grinning?" she asked coyly.
"What is wrong with you? I was trying to ask you something and you responded with terrible rudeness."
Turning her face away from him, Brielle looked off down the road with a shrug. "It was merely a means to an end," she stated mysteriously.
"What end? What are you talking about?"
"It got you out of the barn didn't it?" she replied happily as she turned and practically skipped off towards the house.
Left to stand alone in the middle of the yard, Erik could only blink after Brielle's cavorting figure. Distantly he knew he should be angry with her covert operations, but oddly enough he found a smile growing across his face. She wasn't lying when she said she knew how I thought. Blast her; she knew I would come out after her. This realization was the tiniest bit frightening, for though she evidently knew him, Brielle was a complete mystery to Erik. I suppose all is truly forgiven. Or she wouldn't have bothered. His heart settled into an easy, contented rhythm.
Though he wouldn't admit it, he was utterly relieved he still had a home where he was welcome. Chuckling softly, he closed his eyes. Funny, I have never really had a home before…
Still shaking his head in disbelief, Erik started forward. Upon reaching the front door he carefully removed his boots. As he set his muddy footwear to the side, he caught sight of a fresh bouquet of hothouse flowers sitting ostentatiously on a nearby table top. The smile which Brielle's audacity had inspired withered into a scowl, one corner of his lip curling back in a sneer. Andrew has been here.
Straightening, Erik stalked off down the hall, looking for Brielle as he went. Hearing a floorboard creak from the library he made a sharp turn into the room; however, upon entering he found no one within. With a sigh, his irritation at Andrew's recent presence in the house dimming, Erik walked over to the window and rested his forehead against the glass. I shouldn't let that man get under my skin. If he comes about or not, it is not any of my concern. It should be beneath my notice. Besides, Brielle is irritating enough on her own.
Happy with this conclusion, Erik pulled back from the window and turned to vacate the room. As he passed Brielle's correspondence desk, a sheaf of paper dislodged and scattered across the floor. With a growl, the man bent down to gather up the spilled pile. It did not come as a shock when he picked up several envelopes addressed to Brielle from Andrew. Rolling his eyes smugly, Erik threw the opened letters back up onto the desk. Oh, too bad she has been too busy lately to make a reply, he thought with satisfaction.
Pulling the rest of the opened correspondences toward him into a rough pile, Erik stood and placed the mound unceremoniously onto the table top. He was just about to turn away from the mess he had made when something odd caught his attention. An unfinished letter in Brielle's lovely handwriting sat crumpled on top of the pile, in plain view. What was strange about this missive was the heading.
"Dear Darling," it read, drawing Erik's eyes to continue scanning the letter. "Thank you for the wonderful flowers you brought this morning. The gift was a welcome distraction from the frustration which seems to constantly fill my days now. Though I had hoped you could have stayed longer. Conner has once again left for a few days to honor a previous business engagement and his absence has left me terribly lonely. Of course, I enjoy Erik's company, but I do occasionally get tired of his oddities. Though I would never say it out loud, his mask does create a great many questions. Is it terrible of me that I constantly wonder what he hides under it? Do come to visit again soon, I have missed you terribly…."
Stunned by the words floating before his eyes, Erik could only stare at the letter until he could no longer focus upon the letters. Blinking rapidly, the man set the seemingly innocent piece of paper back onto the desk. That cannot be correct…there has been a mistake, he thought stubbornly, unwilling to release the warmth of hope still beating in his heart. Unbidden a sneaking whisper purred darkly in his ear, She did hesitate giving my mask back. Is her curiousity getting the better of her? Shaking his head he pushed these thoughts aside. No that cannot be correct, this is just a mistake…that isn't even her writing. I was mistaken.
Turning slowly, as if in a trance, Erik walked stiffly to the library door. I was mistaken…he continued to repeat in his head like a wish. Mistaken…but underneath the silken web of his thoughts, a black cloud billowed up within him, setting his innards aflame with an anger he had not felt since coming to this house. Shaken, Erik brutally tamped down the Phantom's fury he felt building inside.
It was a mistake. I'll prove it.