Chapter Twenty-One

Worthless…lower than the lowest…whore…

Erik was dozing in his chair after a long night of composing in his head when he was awakened by a blood-curdling scream.

"No! No, please! Stop! Get off me!" He jumped up, at the ready. Looking around for the intruder, he cursed himself for leaving his lasso so far out of reach. Then his eyes fell on Alison. She was thrashing around the bed, as if she was trying to escape an imaginary attacker, screaming.

He understood at once and was over by her bedside in a flash. "Angelique! Angelique, wake up."

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly, looking around wildly. "What…where…" Then she noticed Erik and relaxed, still shaking. She rubbed her hand over her face. "God…"

Erik gently put his arms around her and pulled her close. "It is all right, mon coeur. You are safe now, I promise you."

She nodded, knowing it was true.

She felt him hesitate, then he said, "But who are you afraid of? Who is it that haunts your nightmares like this?"

She tensed. Patrick's words still played through her head. "No."

"What?"

"No, I'm not going to tell you."

"But why? You know that I am only trying to protect you. Why will you not tell me his name?"

"I can't. I just can't, okay?"

For a moment it seemed as if he was going to argue, but then he sighed. "If that is your wish, Angelique, I will not ask again."

She relaxed into him, letting the sound of his heartbeat and his warm arms around her soothe her back to sleep.

Over the next two weeks, their days fell into a quiet, comfortable rhythm. Alison didn't cry during the day anymore. Her heart was healing and she felt less scared. She was also pushing the tears down, out of the way. She didn't want to seem weak or helpless, especially to Erik. Unfortunately, she couldn't keep the pain away for long. During the night, when she was off her guard, it all came back twice as strong, as if it were mocking her efforts to make it go away. But Erik was always there to hold her, soothe her, and rock her back to sleep.

There was one spot of contention between the two of them, however: Alison's refusal to tell Erik the name of the man who raped her. Erik couldn't understand why she was hiding it from him. He went over hundreds of possibilities in his mind, but he couldn't come up with any feasible possibilities. His main concern was that if she didn't tell him the name, he couldn't revenge her short of killing every man within a ten-mile radius. And even then, that might not affect the man he was after. So he kept asking her about it, but she would refuse to tell him every time. She just seemed so…scared of this man, or of telling him, or of both.

Alison was scared. An irrational part of her brain had taken Patrick's taunting words and made them into a reality. She had almost become convinced that if she told Erik that Patrick had attacked her, he would dump her out into the streets and leave her to fend for herself. The tiny, rational part of her brain always scolded her for that. He's been with you for quite a while now. He's not just going to dump you. Patrick tried to convince you of that because he didn't want you to tell anyone what he did. Is that what you want? For him never to get caught, never to pay for what he's done to you. You need to tell Erik, to show him that you trust him, if for no other reason. That battle raged inside her every day, even more prominent when Erik asked her straight out.

She refused to tell him, and he didn't understand why. It was making them both irritated and crabby. The perfect mixture for an argument.

It came near the end of the day two weeks after the rape had happened. They were sitting quietly. He was drawing and she was writing a poem. Suddenly Erik looked up and took a deep breath. "Angelique. You know that I care about you more than anything else in the world besides my music. I cannot stay idle while you are suffering like this. Please. Tell me who it was."

The war inside her was raging even more fiercely than usual and her frustration at herself and at Patrick burst its dams. Directly at Erik.

"Oh my God…Erik! I've told you over and over and over again that I will NOT tell you! My reasons are my own. Why can't you respect that? I haven't told you these two weeks and there's a very good reason for that. So just leave me alone about it, okay? I appreciate everything you've done for me and you've been great, but I can't tell you. That's all there is to it. Stop asking." She fell silent, her mouth stubbornly clenched, and continued writing her poem. He stared at her for a moment, feeling his own frustration build inside him.

"Please forgive me for trying to help you! That is my only motive in asking you. I cannot see why it is so difficult to tell me who attacked you. I have done everything I possibly can, and yet you still will not tell me his name. Why? Is it because you do not trust me enough?"

"No!" she denied hotly. "There are other reasons, things you wouldn't understand. It has nothing to do with you."

"I cannot understand these things if you do not tell me!"

"Well, I can't. And I won't. So LEAVE ME ALONE ABOUT IT!"

She felt awful the moment she said the words. The look in Erik's eyes was almost fragile.

"Of course, Angelique," he said softly. "I will not bother you again."

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Erik, I'm so sorry."

"No. I understand." He sighed. "I will go to bed now, if you do not mind."

She stretched out her hands. "Erik…"

He got up and walked quietly to bed. She hid her face in her hands.

Perhaps it was the argument that made her unconsciously reveal her attacker to him.

After Alison had gone to sleep, Erik sat in his chair, staring at nothing. He was waiting for the nightmares to come, for Alison to scream so that he could hold her again and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Even though he was more than a little hurt by her refusal to trust him, he knew he still needed to be there for her. She needed him.

And it shocked him when the first thing she said in her sleep was, "Patrick." Erik froze. No, no, no. Because of the argument, is she dreaming about another man holding her? Another man kissing her? And not just another man, that man. The one that she left on the rooftop. Why? Why would she be saying his name in her sleep?

"Patrick." Her sleep-blurred voice echoed through the lair. The second repetition made him notice the terrified tone of her voice. Wait. Why would she be saying his name like that unless…

She began to thrash wildly and he ran to sit beside her. "Patrick, no! Please stop!"

Even though he didn't understand her words, he understood the tone. It was Patrick. Patrick who had hurt her, who had been the cause of her misery for the past two weeks. Erik felt the anger build inside of him, but he forced himself to calm down in order to help Alison.

"Help!" she screamed, and then woke up in a flash. And there was Erik, sitting by her bedside just as he always did, but now there was a strange look in his eyes. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Shhh, Angelique. You are all right. You are safe. I am here." She laid her head on his chest, breathing in his scent. There was a comfortable, soothing silence for a moment. Then Erik said, "Was it Patrick?"

She froze. How did he…how could he find out? He felt her tense and knew that he was right.

He stroked her hair softly. "Why did you not tell me before?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "It's really stupid and really irrational, but while he was…well, you know…he told me that if I told anyone, especially you, you would leave me. He said that…" Her voice choked and she couldn't say anything else.

A soft look came into Erik's eyes. She didn't tell me because she was afraid I would leave her. How the world has turned upside down.

"Angelique, look at me." She raised her head and met his eyes, her expression hoping but vulnerable, like a small child.

"I promise you that I will not leave you in that way. As I told you, I care about you far too much to do anything of the sort. There was never any need to be scared. I love you. I think no less of you now that I know. Please believe me."

She sighed and laid her head back on his chest without saying anything. She began to shake, and he was worried that she was displeased with his promise, when he felt the salty tears beginning to soak his shirt.

"What…"

"I should have told you before," she wept. "I should have said something, shouldn't have been worried. You've been so good to me, I just didn't want there ever to be a chance that you would go away."

"There is none," he soothed her, stroking her hair. "I will not leave you. You were the first person who truly loved me. I never thought I would have anything like this. I never thought there would be anyone like you. In this time with you, I have been happier than I ever have in my entire life. Do you understand? If nothing else, I am far too selfish to ever let you go."

She smiled through her tears. "And I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else," she said in a watery voice. "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, mon coeur," he said softly. "But will you tell me about him? About what happened, now that I know?"

She felt so safe, so comfortable in his arms, that she couldn't stop the words tumbling out of her. She told Erik everything.

She told him about how they had met in college, the dates they would go on. She told him about his push for sex, her refusals. She told him about coming back to France and her decision to break up with Patrick. How scary he had been, trying to find out the identity of her lover. She described the rape for the first time.

By the end of it, both of their faces were wet with tears and a burning anger was beginning to grow inside Erik.

How dare he? How dare this man come and do all of those horrible things to my Angelique? My Angelique. I will make him suffer. If I can do nothing else, I will make. Him. Suffer.

He buried his anger until after they had breakfast, sharing secretive smiles and soft touches.

"Angelique, there is something I need to do in the opera house. Are you averse to being alone here for half an hour?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay with that. Just promise that you'll be back," she said, half joking and half serious.

He touched her face gently. "I promise you that I will come back." He kissed her lips swiftly and walked away, concealing the Punjab lasso hidden inside his shirt and feeling the anger burn strong and hot inside of him.

Now that Erik has found out, what's he going to do to Patrick? Please review!