Nothing But A Lie

Chapter 23

Christine had a surprisingly strong urge to laugh in that moment, though it was surely one of the least funny situations she'd ever been in. How awful could someone's luck be to get kidnapped and molested and manipulated and assaulted by one man and then be cornered by two other men in the same month? She resisted the urge, instead standing frozen save for the slight, tired shake of her head. What now?

It was clear what Ben intended by the look in his dark, glassy eyes as he stared at Christine. It was the same look Sky had sometimes, except this one offered no hint of affection, no hope for self-control, clouded with alcohol and desire. When she glanced at Robbie in hopes that he had somehow came to his senses with Ben's entrance, she saw that he rather stood a little taller now, a smirk on his mouth, clearly ready to follow Ben's lead no matter what it would be.

"Connor didn't want to join in on the fun?" Robbie asked.

Ben scoffed. "Nope. Too scared his precious wife would find out. He went to bed."

Robbie laughed. "Chump."

"And what about your wives?" Christine chimed in, unsure of what else to do with Ben blocking her only exit. Words were her only hope at this point. "How would they feel about you two forcing me to…do whatever?"

"Whoa, whoa," Ben said condescendingly, "No one's forcing anything. We're going to pay you. Might as well relax and enjoy it. I'm sure you're used to it."

Her teeth clenched, feeling her face flush with anger. "No. I'm not used to anything of the sort. I am not what you think I am."

"Then why did you come crawling in here late at night wearing next to nothing?" Ben inquired, raising a brow. "Stop acting like you didn't want our attention. Cause you got it, honey. Be thankful."

Ben took a step forward, and Christine stumbled a step back in response, only for her back to collide with Robbie's front, not realizing he had gotten so close. Gasping, she tried to get away, but Robbie held her there by the shoulders with hot, large hands.

"L-let me go," Christine warned, struggling to get out of his grasp. "I'll scream."

Ben laughed. "Feel free to scream, darling. I doubt anyone will hear you from the third floor, passed out drunk, or otherwise medicated in my wife's case."

"Looks like she likes to play fight," Robbie said in surprise, holding her firmly in place. "This'll be fun."

"I love when they play the victim," Ben agreed. "It's so much more fun when it's a challenge."

"Please," Christine whispered. "I don't want this. I'm just a normal girl, I swear."

"Damn," Robbie murmured. "She's good."

"I almost believe her."

It was clear to Christine that these drunken men truly believed she was only acting this way for their entertainment. Could it get any worse? Well, they weren't Sky, so she would fight them, and fight them hard. They were both inebriated enough that she could probably get away, if she concentrated hard enough…

And then, as Christine balled her fists, she realized… she was still wearing Sky's ring. Surely he had gotten suspicious and decided to listen to her by now?

"Help!" she yelled. "Sky! Someone, plea—" her cry was cut off by Ben's hand, and the fight began.

Despite their alcohol-induced states, they were still very strong, and she only managed to land a couple of kicks and bites here and there to begin with, which seemed to amuse them more than anything. Part of her wondered if it would give them less satisfaction if she were to stay still and silent and not respond to anything, but instinct heavily outweighed logic.

With Robbie still holding her from behind and Ben restraining her kicking legs, they tried to take her to the floor, but she somehow got one leg free and landed the hardest kick she could manage into Ben's groin. He immediately groaned and hunched over, clutching at his stomach, and she felt Robbie's grasp waver as if deciding whether to help Ben or not. She twisted and maneuvered but couldn't fully get free of his grasp. Frustrated and desperate, she tried to jam her elbow into Robbie's own sensitivity, but his lack of reaction made her think she missed it by a few inches and got his thigh instead.

"Jeez, princess. You sure fight dirty," he murmured.

"She does," Ben growled the agreement as he straightened up, face still pained, and angry now. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that, sweetheart."

Ben strode forward and back-handed her across the face hard, so hard that her ears began to ring and she couldn't focus on anything but the pain, slumping down in Robbie's arms, and gasping in shock and agony.

"What the fuck, man," she heard Robbie say. "That was harsh."

"Oh, I barely touched her," Ben defended. "She's acting."

She thought she might lose consciousness with the force of the blow, but she stayed aware, feeling Ben try and take her away from Robbie. He held firm, however, suddenly protective, perhaps? It was hard to tell. Whimpering in pain, she pressed her hand to her head. Something warm and sticky coated her fingers. What…? She cracked her eyes open over the pain, her stomach sinking at the small streak of orange-red against her pale skin.

Robbie sounded disturbed when he discovered it too, voice sobering, "She's bleeding." It was clear that he was slowly but surely realizing they had been wrong about her. She wasn't pretending whatsoever.

"If you don't want to continue, get the fuck out," Ben snapped.

"This isn't right, man. We were wrong—"

Ben's laugh was humorless. "Don't tell me you're gonna pussy out? You're as bad as Connor."

They argued as Ben aggressively tried to yank her away. Christine might have screamed at them to just leave her alone if she wasn't so lost in the searing pain of her head. She also might have noticed the sound of the office door opening.

"What the fuck?" Sky's furious voice demanded, causing all three to turn their attention to him.

"Sky!" Christine cried, never feeling more relieved to see him. Robbie started to let her go, but she struggled to stand upright, her head spinning, and she had to use his offered arms for support, unfortunately.

"What do you think you're doing with my girlfriend?" Sky growled.

"Oh, come on," Ben rolled his eyes before Robbie could explain. "Stop pretending like she isn't anything more than a cheap whore. We were just trying to get our money's worth, son. Just like you've been doing, no doubt."

The silence afterward was deafening, and Christine trembled as Sky's expression darkened further than she'd ever seen, thanking the heavens that it wasn't directed at her for once. She watched as Sky crossed to his father in one long stride, his fist colliding hard to the older man's face in a sickening sound that made her wince, suck in a frightened breath. The force of the punch sent Ben straight to the floor, obviously unconscious.

Christine was half relieved, half horrified.

"Damn. Nice hit," Robbie muttered, surprised.

Sky's breathing was harsh, his eyes narrowed into slits at Robbie now. "Get your hands off my girlfriend unless you want to be next."

He did as he was told, surprisingly, and Christine fell into Sky's open arms immediately, his overwhelming-cologne scent flooding her senses. She'd never felt relieved at the smell before, but she did now, so much so that it brought her to tears.

"Shh," he murmured. "I got you, baby. You're okay. You're safe now."

She held onto him tight, trying her hardest not to sob. It hurt too much.

Robbie's face paled. "It… it was all a mistake. I'm sorry, man."

"Don't apologize to me," Sky spat. " Apologize to her."

Christine couldn't look at him as he did so, sheepishly and awkwardly, keeping her face buried into Sky's chest. Sky scoffed bitterly as Robbie attempted to explain himself further, cutting him off, "You're pathetic. Now, hand me my laptop and get the fuck out of my sight."

Quivering with rage, Sky took her back to the guesthouse, sitting her on the bathroom counter to nurse her wound. He remembered the last time he had done this, the day she had finally tried to run away from him. He had been so furious with her then, but now his anger was directed toward his father, Robbie, and himself. Sure, he had planned for Christine to deal with some unwelcome, drunken attention from the men—maybe some obnoxious flirting or annoying touching—but he definitely hadn't expected they would get violent with her. He had allowed them ample time to really scare her, but it had escalated much quicker than he'd intended. He really should have considered all the possibilities…

As he examined her, she didn't seem to have a concussion, which was good, but he would wake her every couple of hours and check on her just in case. She had a small cut on her upper cheek where she was struck, and he carefully cleaned it before covering it with a small bandage. She was going to bruise pretty badly. On her face.

He could honestly kill his father without a second thought right now.

"Are you mad at me?" Christine whispered, breaking him from his murderous thoughts, her precious eyes glossy with tears, fear evident in them.

He took a breath; trying to quell his rage induced shaking. "No, baby," he said. "I'm not mad at you."

Shivering, Christine hugged herself, trying not to lose it. She couldn't think about what might have happened if Sky hadn't shown up. She studied him as he mechanically put away the various first aid items, and though he said he wasn't angry with her, he did not look the least bit happy. It confused her. Sky was allowed to be awful to her, but when others did it, he got upset? Or maybe it was because his own father was the culprit this time.

Ugh. Ben really was terrible. Poor Denise. Poor Sky. Christine briefly wondered what it must have been like to grow up with him as a father.

"Has… has- your dad… always been like that?" she asked quietly, not knowing how else to phrase the question without upsetting him further.

Sky's fists clenched, freezing. After a moment, he said tonelessly, "Pretty much."

She chewed on her lip, wondering if she should just leave it at that. But her curiosity won out. "Was it hard… growing up with him?"

"You have no idea."

Unsure why exactly she did so—maybe she felt just a little bit sorry for him, or more likely she needed the comforting more than anything after the chaos that was this whole weekend—she reached for him, wordlessly pulling him to her. He looked confused as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, at about the same height as him where she sat on the counter. She still trembled, and realized as she hugged him that he was shaking too. From anger? Or something else? She couldn't tell.

Sky returned her embrace hard, his breath hitching. Her unexpected gesture almost made him want to cry like a child. Of course, he didn't, but he couldn't hold back the few tears that just had to escape.

God, he was a terrible, terrible person. She was good. She was perfect. And he was ruining her, using her like some little pawn in his grand chess game. But what could he do? He couldn't let her go. Not now, at least. He couldn't be alone again. He would lose his mind. To even think that he wouldn't get to sleep next to her every night, or smell her hair, or kiss her skin was too painful in itself… so he definitely couldn't let her go.

But he could try to be better. No more schemes. No more plans. No more manipulating. No more punishments. He just wanted to be with her, the right way. But would she let him? And would he let himself?

"I'm sorry, Christine," she heard him whisper brokenly into her hair, felt the wetness of his tears on her scalp. She didn't have to ask what he was sorry for. She knew what he meant.

He was sorry for everything.

Christine's head still pounded when Sky gently woke her for the last time early the next morning just as it had all night. Except this time, he had painkillers and a glass of water ready for her. They left the dreadful place without bothering to venture to the main house for goodbyes, for obvious reasons.

Sky still seemed upset on the drive home, quiet and unsmiling and… different. It worried her a little, if she was being honest. Sky was usually either angry or relaxed without a lot of in-between. But now, he seemed almost… depressed or something. It was strange. She even tried to make conversation here and there, feeling nervously chatty, but his replies were short and uninterested.

She tried to convince herself that whatever was bothering him was his problem, not hers, but she'd always been the type of person to be affected by other people's emotions. So she soon quieted as well, staring out the car's tinted window at the sunny city that flew by as Sky drove, letting her mind wander. Her thoughts always seemed to land on Erik when she did so. At least she would get to see him tomorrow…

"I can still go to class tomorrow, right, Sky?" she asked suddenly, making sure.

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the busy highway. "Your face. People will ask questions."

She chewed on her lip, trying not to panic. "I-I can put makeup on over it! It'll look nonexistent, I promise. And if not, I'll stay home. Please, Sky?"

"Fine, just calm down," he said, and she sighed in relief.

"Thank you," she said, chattering again. "I have my first performance of the semester on Friday night. Missing my last two voice lessons before then would be bad, heh. I wonder what I'll wear… last time I wore a white dress that my friend let me borrow. My song is kind of sad this time, though. I don't think I have anything dark… maybe I can ask around at school tomorrow."

"No need," he replied unexpectedly. She didn't even think he was listening to her. "I'll get you something."

"What? Oh, it's okay. You don't have-"

"I want to," he cut her off firmly, still not looking at her. "When we get home you can put makeup over your… face, and then I'll take you shopping."

He did much more than just that.

Sky spoiled her the whole rest of the day no matter how much she tried to argue with him about it. He bought her a dress for the performance and shoes and accessories and other outfits he thought might look good on her. He also took her to get her nails done, which she'd never had the luxury of doing before in her life (she chose a pale pink), and then took her to a fancy dinner to top it all off. She didn't like that he spent so much money on her, but it seemed to put him in somewhat better spirits, at least.

Not that she should even care about his spirits either way, but she couldn't help it. He was clearly extremely beat up by what had happened to her; he could barely look at her all day, even after she'd covered her bruise with makeup. Maybe he was finally realizing how horrible all of this was. A huge part of her was skeptical of that, of course, but a small part couldn't help but hope fiercely.

It was around eight when they got back to Sky's apartment, and Christine immediately locked herself in the bathroom to put on her performance dress on again, just so she could stare at herself wearing it in the mirror. She was obsessed with it, though it was something she never would have chosen for herself in the past. It was knee length and fitted—giving the illusion that she had a decent figure other than just being short and skinny—and deep, royal blue in color, making her fairness glow and her eyes pop. She looked like a woman in it, and that surprisingly thrilled her.

Was she a woman now? Sometimes she still felt like a terrified, defenseless little girl, but other times she felt stronger and braver than ever. She supposed that was because she had been forced to grow up in a lot of ways. She was definitely no longer the ignorant, innocent girl she had once been, thanks to Sky. Though she hated him for that, she didn't seem to hate the change in her as much as she thought she should. She didn't know what to feel anymore.

All she knew as she stared at herself in the mirror is how much she hoped Erik would like it.

Despite the distractions he'd been fortunate enough to acquire over the long weekend, Erik still found himself almost jittery all Tuesday morning. He was much too eager to see Christine for her voice lesson, and he could not recall a single time in his life where he was so jumpy. Of course, he'd never been in love before, so he should have known there would be many firsts to deal with since meeting her.

He waited in their practice room long before their scheduled meeting, skipping lunch with Nadir. Erik would be poor company to the old man anyway, so he sat at the piano and tried to let out some tension with playing the first thing that came to mind. He was lucky these practice rooms were sound proof, else whoever was unfortunate enough to hear him would no doubt be rattled to the bone. This music was some he'd ceased working on for a very long time, leaving that dark part of his life behind, but for some odd reason was the music that came to him now.

It sucked him in, and he played with an intensity he'd forgotten he possessed until now, and he was lost in it. It was like a recovering addict relapsing into the seduction of his preferred drug, and he couldn't make himself stop.

This music, the power… a part of him missed having that control, missed being the decider of his fate, of others' fates… these days he seemed to have no control at all… thanks to that girl…

He could almost hear her frightened intake of breath now, if she were here to witness him like this. Surely she would never speak to him again if that were the case, would run as far from him as she could go…

The thought was painful enough that it returned him back to reality, and he ceased playing, his breathing hard and shaky in the silence. The awful, discordant notes still echoed around the room, around his head. Playing that had been a mistake. How long would it take him this time to shake away the awful thoughts, emotions?

And then he heard the whisper, "Erik?"

She stood there, her back to the door and her eyes wide with shock, her delicate hand on her chest, moving with her breath. Erik froze, his stomach sinking as he realized… it hadn't been his imagination. She had actually been in the room with him. He must have been so focused on the playing that he didn't notice her entrance… oh, no.

Christine had never heard anything like it in her life, the music he had been playing. It was so- so weird, unsettling- scary, like something out of a horror movie. Had he been practicing an audition for a scary play or something? Surely something like that couldn't have come from him.

"Forgive me," Erik choked, standing awkwardly from the bench and avoiding her eyes. "You were not supposed to hear that. I did not hear you come in."

"W-what was that, Erik?"

"Nothing," he snapped, avoiding her eyes. "Put it out of mind."

She frowned. Why wouldn't he tell her?

His voice remained tight. "Shall we begin? We only have a few days until the performance. We will need to use every moment to make you perfect."

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