Hey everyone! Here is the next chapter for you! I know that last cliffhanger has been driving you crazy. But be prepared for some stupidity on all sides in this chapter…though you don't have to worry…it won't last forever.
Another huge thanks to my wonderful beta, Terpsichore314. She once again got this chapter back in the blink of an eye. That and she has also been helping me out lots with her comments on each chapter so hurray for her!
Oh and p.s. thanks to all of you who reviewed last week. I guess my complaining paid off. But seriously I do appreciate all of your comments. Keep them coming!
Chapter 43: A Fated Meeting
The open-palmed blow across his chin caught Erik off guard. Brielle's small, fine-boned hand knocked him at an odd angle, snapping his teeth together and rattling his brain a bit. Stunned by the force of the impact he gasped aloud, biting his tongue in the process. Blinking away the spots floating in front of his eyes, Erik opened his mouth and jerked into a half sitting position, leaning heavily on his elbows.
On the verge of spewing the caustic venom gathering within his head, Erik hesitated when he caught sight of Brielle's expression. Something had changed behind her features in the few seconds since she had hit him. The anger and fear which had been tightening the skin around her eyes and mouth had mysteriously vanished, replaced instead with slack-jawed disbelief. Shifting uncomfortably, his mind racing to discover the cause of this sudden transformation, Erik could only stare back at her for several agonizing minutes.
As he watched her fog gray eyes darken in what could only be described as unhealed grief, the masked man fought against the sadness still clawing within his own heart. He knew he shouldn't still feel this way, he knew that the anger should have been able to burn away all other emotions; but it hadn't, and he didn't know why. When he hesitated to say anything all remaining color drained out of Brielle's face, her large bruised eyes staring directly into his face.
Brielle opened her mouth at the precise moment that Erik realized that his identity was no longer protected by his hood. "Erik?" she breathed, the slightest of questions hanging at the end of that one word.
At the sound of his own name filling the silence in that painfully familiar tone, Erik jerked backward, the instincts to run overriding all else within his head. A lead-like weight began to pull at his insides, making him sick with a type of shame he had not felt since he was very young. Though his mask remained firmly in place, Brielle's discovery of his identity was more piercing than all those times at the fair when strangers had gazed upon his cursed features. Flipping over onto his hands and knees the masked man scrabbled to gain his footing, panic searing only one thought into his mind. I cannot let her see me!
Jumping to his feet, Erik took a hurried step forward, fully intending upon running away like a coward, when a slight pull on his cloak stopped him in his tracks. Haltingly he turned his head and looked down to see Brielle lying stretched out on the floor, both hands clutching at the hem of his cloak. An animalistic desperation painted shadows on her face as she cast her lamp-like eyes up the length of his body to finally land upon his face.
It was that odd desolation in her expression that stopped him from any further action. The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of her lips and a light that had not been there before flickered behind her eyes. "What!" he snapped stupidly, at a loss for what else to say, the guilt continuing to grow within his gut until he was sure he would explode. What little flicker of happiness there was in her eyes immediately snuffed itself out.
At his harsh tone, Brielle released the corner of his cloak, looking as if he had reached out and slapped her across the face. "What do you mean 'what'?" she started, a little bit of the haunted darkness leaving her gaze. When Erik found he could not reply, Brielle's kohl darkened eyebrows drew down in a severe line, her full heart-shaped mouth pinching into a frown. Climbing to her feet, the Irish woman stood a cautious distance away from him.
"How long have you been here?" she asked quietly, her words carefully clipped, minimizing the normally charming lilt in her accent.
Unable to do anything else, Erik drew himself up to his full height, turning a cool haughty gaze down to Brielle's face; protecting himself with an air of superiority from her piercing gaze. "I do not see how that is any of your concern, Madame."
"None of my concern?" she repeated dumbly, staring at him suddenly as if he were a stranger. "What are you talking about? After you left I heard nothing of where you went. For all I knew you had died…"
"Yes, that is exactly how I intended it," he replied coolly.
Dropping her gaze to the image of the saint still grasped in her hand Brielle shook her head slightly, a dark flush beginning to stain her cheeks a heated scarlet. "Are you not listening! I said I thought you were dead. I knew that you were angry about something when you left, but I was sure eventually you would write at least to say how you were getting along. When I heard nothing…well what was I to think? I waited months for just a word from you." Clenching her fist around the medallion once again, Brielle looked up again. "Why didn't you write?" she asked, bitterness now deepening her tone instead of grief.
A streak of fury rushed through his body at her words, tightening his fists at his sides. She acts as if I am in the wrong…as if she did nothing! Black and blinding his temper descended upon him; blocking out everything except for all the wrongs he had suffered in his life, all of the wrongs he had suffered because of Brielle. Taking a step forward, he jabbed a finger through the air right under the Irish woman's nose, his eyes flashing blue fire in the morning light.
"As if you did not know why I didn't write!" Erik hissed, drawing his hand back to his side when he noticed how it shook in the air between him and Brielle.
Confusion clouded Brielle's eyes for a moment as she took in his words. "Excuse me, but I have no idea to what you are referring."
Sniffing at her response, Erik curled one corner of his mouth up into a sneer. "Oh of course…you have absolutely no idea about what I am talking about. Women always seem to conveniently forget their own misdeeds."
Not intimidated by his imposing figure or brooding expression, Brielle reached out one hand as if to touch him. "Erik, please tell me what is wrong…"
Jerking a shoulder back and out of her reach, Erik clamped down on the longing within him which ached for the simple human contact her offered hand promised. He missed that, the touch and solidarity he had come to expect within the Donovan household. It was like going through withdrawal from a powerful narcotic. And because he wanted to so much to reach out and curl his fingers around her outstretched hand Erik took another step away from her, realizing suddenly the true danger she posed to his sanity.
At his retreat Brielle dropped her hand limply back to her side. Embarrassment flickered across her face as she looked down to the ground. Nervously she moved to spin her wedding ring about her finger, but stopped when her fingers touched nothing but bare flesh. Stunned, Erik realized that the plain gold band she had worn throughout their acquaintance was gone. What in the world…she wore that thing religiously. She must have gotten rid of it when she decided to marry Andrew.
Caught up in his thoughts, Erik did not notice how Brielle's expression changed yet again. "What were you doing up here?" she asked suspiciously, her body language drawing in; as if she were talking to someone she did not know.
Startled by this new line of questioning it took Erik a moment to process what she was saying. Relief flooded through his body as he watched a growing mistrust work its way into her storm gray eyes. It made it easier to forget how weak her grief made him when he was faced with this subdued hostility. He was used to being feared and mistrusted. He was glad that anger now lit her soul-piercing eyes. The anger flattened the mirror-like quality of her gaze, making him not feel as exposed, as if she were looking right through his blustering.
"Why were you up here, Erik?" she repeated more forcefully when he didn't answer her.
Narrowing his eyes, Erik drew his lips back from his perfect white teeth, wanting to see the familiar flicker of fear he could usually evoke in other people on Brielle's classically proportioned face. "Mind your own business, Madame. People should not meddle in the affairs of others. Especially when they wish to keep a low profile."
Erik purposely touched on the one subject he knew would send her anxiety levels shooting skyward. From the hours he had spent observing Brielle since her arrival, he had come to conclude that her presence at the Opera was not completely voluntary. Something had happened after he left that forced her to go into hiding. Erik had seen the bruises on her face when she arrived, and it did not take a genius to figure out she had somehow gotten in over her head with her new fiancé. When he had first caught sight of her battered face, unexpected concern had clouded his brain, but now he was certain that she had most likely deserved everything which had happened to her.
He had finally pushed her far enough that all signs of any worry or pain she had displayed were now completely erased. Her features hardening into a mask of wintry disdain, Brielle tilted her chin up stubbornly. "Are you threatening me?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Erik flashed a mean-spirited smile her way. "If that is what you would like to think…"
She studied his face for a long tense moment, her eyes dark and flinty within her pale face. "Have you changed Erik…or was the man you were a year ago just a pretense?"
Feeling sure of himself now that he no longer had to struggle against the force of her obviously feigned concern; Erik fell comfortably back into the cool grip of his intellect. Logic, he knew, could win out over everything else, even love. So he certainly would have no trouble dealing with the vague affection he had once felt for this chit of a girl.
"Did you actually live under the delusion that you somehow, over the course of a few measly months, know anything about who I was? You truly are more of a fool than I initially thought." Raising one gloved hand up to casually trace a finger along the edge of his mask, Erik contemptuously considered Brielle's plain dress and scuffed shoes. "Of course I must admit that I was grateful to you at first; though after an interminable amount of time spent listening to your idiotic ideas and opinions, I was over eager to be free of your company."
Her features remaining carefully collected in the face of his biting comments, Brielle stood completely still. To a stranger her cold lack of reaction would have seemed odd given the barbing nature of his speech, but Erik knew better. Her mask-like calm, he knew, was a clear sign of how upset she truly was. Like him, Brielle built massive fortifications around her heart when confronted with genuine pain. Her ice-cold response only encouraged the mean streak within him to come up to the forefront.
"You are lying. You cannot tell me everything was not real. I cannot believe that it was all a fabrication. You were kind to my daughter, you taught her to find her voice when no one else could…"
Not liking the sentimental direction her words were going, Erik quickly interrupted her. "Unlike some people I know I do not say things I do not mean," he stated matter-of-factly, his terse response covering the remorse threatening to leak into his tone. Memories of his young former student sent unresolved regret flickering to life behind his emotional fortifications. Erik could justify his mistreatment of Brielle easily enough, but when he thought of how he left without even saying goodbye to Aria, he truly felt like a monster.
At his words a slight trembling running up and down Brielle's body betrayed her growing agitation. Cracks began to show in her wintry façade as she took a dogged step forward, purposely invading Erik's personal space. "And these are the words of a gentleman? I have heard many a hair-brained utterance since coming to this place…but you by far are the most ungallant, monstrous man I have ever..."
Pausing in the middle of her tirade Brielle cleared her throat and seemed to rethink her words before continuing. "Your arrogance and ill conceit to the sensibilities of others is nothing short of shocking. Your mother must have wept over your hell-bound soul the moment you were born!"
Fury tinting the edges of his vision red, Erik raised both hands to throttle the life out of the woman standing less than a foot in front of him. Freezing an inch from wrapping his hands about Brielle's throat, he fought for control, even as she dared him to lay a hand on her with flinty gray eyes. Unnerved by the steely unblinking challenge he saw in Brielle's face, Erik dropped his hands to his sides and stepped away from her. What the hell is wrong with me? Just because she knows how to anger me doesn't mean I should give in to her scheme. I am better than that. I can control my temper…I will not debase myself by laying a hand on an uppity bitch of a woman.
"What? Has a spark of conscience suddenly descended upon you?" Brielle asked through clenched teeth. "It was you who has been frightening the entire Opera these last few weeks, wasn't it? It all makes so much sense now. I had wondered why the oddities seemed to follow me. It is because you were targeting me wasn't it, you beast! You almost killed someone today!"
"Shut your mouth, woman…"
"Can you not terrorize people when they are looking you right in the eye? Are you such a coward that you can only bully people from the shadows? You forget I am not afraid of you, Erik! And I do not believe in the Phantom you are pretending to be!"
A wicked light brightening his dagger-sharp eyes, Erik grinned down at her. "Who says I am pretending?"
Faced with this new thought, Brielle blinked blankly up at him, her mouth falling open in shock. Erik dimly thought that perhaps his impulsive statement was not the best course of action, but he was so angry with Brielle that he didn't care. He wanted to squash the fight right out of her. Slowly a new depth of horror stole over Brielle's features as she considered the implications of his statement. Obviously, by the look on her face, she had been privy to the stories of some of the Phantom's more notorious actions.
"Meg did say that that man wore a mask…and that…"
"And that he lived below the Opera? Funny, isn't that the very place you found me last year?" he asked flippantly, enjoying the new avenue he had discovered to torment his former friend.
Looking rather ill, Brielle took a hasty step back. "That man…they say he was responsible for dropping the chandelier into the crowd…that he killed people. He could have been a mass murderer if that chandelier had fallen at slightly a different angle…it was luck that saved the crowd. Everyone says he was a madman."
"Indeed…that is what they say," he replied noncommittally. Choosing not to mention the fact that he had purposely rigged the blasted chandelier to fall exactly as it had, missing the crowd, but causing a huge distraction. She did not need to know that. In fact he preferred that she think of him as a killer. Perhaps if he scared her enough she would leave and he would finally be free of her.
Taking another step back as her brain made all of the connections between Erik and the Phantom, Brielle barely registered the Saint Jude metal slipping from her numb fingers and clattering to the floor at her feet. "Stay away from me…" she murmured. "Stay away from my daughter. I will kill you myself before I allow you to somehow hurt my family."
"Please try not to make empty threats, Madame…it is rather a sad thing. And I would rather not make likewise empty promises. Who knows who could get hurt when, say, a backdrop or sandbag fall? And I particularly do not want you here, Madame…your staying here will only exacerbate your problems."
Continuing to back away from him, as if she were retreating from a wild animal, Brielle held up a staying hand even though he had made no move to follow her. "You will not promise to keep away from Aria?"
Hating himself for using the child for his own purposes against her mother, Erik made himself look as unconcerned as possible. "No, I cannot promise that."
Paling, Brielle shook her head. "Then you may get your wish, sir. For I can no longer stay here with that threat hanging over my head!" Whirling, the Irish woman fled down the hallway, her long black braid swinging wildly behind her.
A triumphant smile flashed like summer lightning across Erik's face, short-lived but bright none the less. The adrenaline pumping through his system, making him feel light headed and invincible, but soon the euphoria began to fade and he began to realize the gravity of what he had just done. A mixture of happiness and grief warred within his body, leaving him breathless with the contrasting emotions. He had successfully stood up to one of the women in his life that had betrayed him, had hurt him; but somehow that knowledge also created a spike of icy sorrow through his heart. Erik knew he had lost something, once and for all, and somehow that terrified him.
Watching Brielle disappear around a corner, Erik stood stiffly exactly where he was. He was afraid that if he moved, even just an inch, the trembling that was shaking his hands would spread to the rest of his body; and that once it started he would never be able to make it stop. Letting out an unsteady breath, Erik raised a shaking hand to rub at his eyes. Suddenly feeling rather unsteady on his feet he staggered over to the nearby wall, leaning against it heavily. Turning his back to the wall, his legs gave out from under him. Slowly he slid down to the floor, both hands now up and covering his face.
This is how I wanted a confrontation to go. This is what should have happened. She surprised me at first, but…but I reacted as I should have. This is what I wanted to happen. Dropping one hand to his knee, Erik lightly banged the back of his head against the wall behind him, frustration at his mixed emotions nearly making him crazy. So why do I feel as if I made some terrible mistake?
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Pounding down the staircases to the ground floor, Brielle felt on the verge of a fainting spell. Lightheaded and in a confused panic, she jumped the last two stairs and took off running across the back of the stage, making a beeline back toward her room. Her thoughts were in such a state of chaos that she didn't even hear the several concerned voices call her name when she passed the few people remaining on the stage. Every breath burned in and out of her lungs as she raced down a side hallway. Skidding a few feet past her door she backpedaled and staggered into her room, not caring if any of her coworkers woke up at her noise.
Unable to fully process what exactly had happened in the last several minutes, Brielle fell next to her bed upending her small trunk onto her mattress. Snatching a medium-sized bag, she began stuffing all her worldly belongings into the satchel. Moving to do the same with Aria's clothes, she found that her hands were shaking so badly that she could hardly get the trunk open.
Finished with her hasty unplanned packing session, Brielle jumped to her feet and ran back out the dormitory door. He was here…he was here the whole time and he purposely hid from me! He isn't who I thought he was…he was pretending the whole time. He deceived me…I can't believe I was so stupid. And worse still…he has hurt people. He even admitted it. He is the one who has been making all the trouble around here. He even targeted me for some sick reason.
Running blindly down the hallway she headed toward the Opera's schoolroom, hoping that Aria hadn't grown bored and left the class. I should have made the connection earlier! Meg told me the stories but I didn't believe her. She said that a man in a mask hurt people last year…GOD! How many men run around in masks! Why didn't I make the connection…he could have hurt me or my family at any time…I am so stupid…I have to get Aria away from here…
Bursting into the schoolroom, Brielle ignored the outraged exclamation from the teacher. She spotted Aria immediately when the child turned in her seat to stare worriedly back at her disheveled mother. Moving into the room with absolutely no explanation to the sputtering teacher, Brielle took hold of her daughter's little hand, practically dragging the child out of the room when she turned and marched out the door.
Anxiety growing in Aria's expression every second, the child ran along after her mother. "M-Momma w-what is w-wrong! W-why do you h-have that b-bag?"
"We have to leave here, Aria. Something has happened. Someone knows who we are and so we have to leave before they do something bad," Brielle stated, her voice shaking with every word.
As her initial panic subsided slightly and her brain was about to process more than one thought at a time, Brielle finally felt the impact of what had happened. Every happy memory she still harbored between her and Erik was called into question. The entire last year seemed now to have been a lie, the months she spent mourning Erik's sudden departure, making her feel a fool. Her heart froze inside her chest, breaking into a million tiny shards with every new betraying thought that crossed her mind. And what made her heart ache worse was that now she had to leave the Opera, and the friends she had made there. In order to protect herself and her child she had to disappear again had to find her way out on the Parisian streets.
Close to tears, Brielle struggled against the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment. I was a fool…complete idiot. To have allowed myself to feel…anything for him…but it was all a lie…he said so himself…it was all a lie.
"B-But M-Momma I don't w-want to go!" Aria howled.
"Neither do I, but we have no choice! I don't want anyone to know anything about us…I don't want Andrew to ever find us again. If he ever did he might take you away from me…do you understand?"
Nodding her head, her large gray eyes misty with unshed tears, Aria turned her gaze to the ground. "Wh-Who is it?" she finally asked. "Wh-Who is m-making us l-leave this time?"
Not wanting to divulge the terrible truth, Brielle kept her mouth shut. She would keep the secret of her encounter with Erik to herself; she didn't want her daughter to have a share of the pain that she herself now felt. "Never mind that…it doesn't matter."
Her dark eyebrows pulling down into a frown, Aria set her face into a stubborn glower. "You d-don't have to l-lie. I k-know who it is."
Stopping in her tracks, Brielle turned and squatted down to eye level with Aria. "What are you talking about? Who do you think it is?"
Her expression darkening to a severely un-childlike scowl, Aria stared mutinously at the floor. "It w-was H-HIM wasn't it?"
"What him are you talking about!"
"It is Erik's f-fault w-we have to leave, isn't it?" the child finally burst out, her gray eyes flashing in anger. "H-He is the ghost p-people always t-talk about. The ghost t-that w-wears the m-mask."
Giving Aria a slight shake, Brielle could hardly believe what she was hearing. "How long have you known Erik was here? How long have you known he was the ghost?"
Pinching her lips together, Aria brought her eyes up to meet her mother's gaze. "Since w-we c-came here. S-Since everyone s-started t-talking about it."
"Why didn't you tell me! How did you know he was here?"
"I knew b-because I j-just f-felt h-he was h-here…I j-just knew. B-But I didn't s-say anything b-because I didn't w-want you to be f-friends with him again," Aria murmured bitterly. "I d-didn't tell b-because I h-h…b-because I h-h-h-a…" In her growing agitation the child couldn't get the last word out. Brielle moved to lay a soothing hand on Aria's shoulder, but the child jerked out of her grip, her tiny face turning red in fury.
"Because I HATE him!" she screamed finally, the words bursting out strangely clear. "He p-pretended to be my f-friend and then left without s-saying anything! I hate him…"
Drawing Aria into a gentle embrace, Brielle laid her cheek against her daughter's dark hair. She knew the whole time and didn't say anything. I should have known her silence all those months meant something more than what people told me. She was grieving him too…but couldn't say anything. "I know…I know…but it will be ok…don't worry…as long as we stick together everything will be ok. We don't need anyone else."
Nodding against her mother's neck, Aria remained silent, her tiny body shaking from her outburst. When a footstep sounded down the hall the child raised her head and silently tugged on her mother's sleeve. Looking around, Brielle caught sight of Meg hurrying down the hallway toward them.
Her chest heaving from the exertion, Meg ran the last few yards toward them. "What in the world in going on, Brielle? I saw you run across the stage a few minutes ago but you didn't answer when I called your name. You were so pale I was afraid you were about to fall over dead!"
Climbing to her feet, Brielle shifted uncomfortably. This was the reason why she had been so reserved when she first had arrived at the opera. She had wanted to avoid this, saying goodbye to a friend. "Something has happened, Meg…Aria and I have to leave the Opera…we can't stay here any longer. It just isn't safe."
"Is it because of that sandbag falling? Surely that can't be it…I mean that was just an accident…."
"It was NOT an accident…" Brielle burst out before thinking better of it. "But that isn't the reason…it is something else…please Meg, don't ask any more questions…"
When Brielle started off down the hall, toward one of the outside doorways, Meg followed close on her heels. "Brielle, you don't have to leave. If you are in some type of trouble we can help you here. I know you are hiding from someone…no one comes here to be a cleaning lady unless they are hiding or running from someone. No one here will let someone hurt you…you don't have to leave!"
Shrugging off Meg's words, Brielle shook her head. "No, you don't understand…I am sorry Meg…I never wanted to have to leave like this." Approaching a series of side doors that led to the outside world, Brielle felt the panic clawing at the back of her throat again. How am I supposed to find a job? What am I supposed to do now?
Jumping in front of her friend, blocking the way to the door, Meg held her hands out in a staying motion. "You shouldn't have to leave like this, Brielle. Where are you going to find a job? Where are you going to go? Stay…the Opera protects its own people…you can't just…"
Interrupted by the door behind her swinging open with a bang, Meg started and jumped forward out of the way. Seeing the silhouette of a tall man struggling with a heavy trunk, Meg pursed her lips in irritation. "Have you no manners? What is wrong with you just bursting in through a door and scaring the living daylights out of people?" the blonde snapped in an uncharacteristically priggish manner.
The man turned at Meg's admonishment, his features momentarily shaded by the bright sunlight behind his head. He dropped the trunk immediately and stepped forward through the door. Pulling off his hat, the man sketched a bow to the ladies, his red hair glinting in the light streaming through the doorway.
"My apologies, dear lady. I had no idea anyone used this side door. And since apparently everyone was busy already welcoming the two new divas, I didn't want to make a fuss. I…" Raising his head from the bow, the man goofily grinned first at Meg then Brielle. When his gaze focused in on Brielle's face he stopped talking completely and straightened up with a snap.
"Brielle?" he asked quietly, a disbelieving smile quickly overtaking his features and lightening the forest green of his eyes.
Equally shocked and delighted Brielle raised both hands up to cover her gaping mouth. "Conner? Sweet Mary, I can't believe you are here!"