chapter 42

A ll the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put my shattered heart back together again. But I was going to try.

Whether I believed the man I still loved, I had sent Erique away to save him. I think. Even if he didn't deserve it.

Did I really believe he was guilty though? Worry was at the front of my mind. Erique didn't give up easily.

The party hadn't noticed we disappeared. Nor did they notice our return.

"There's something on your mind, darling," Philippe said. It wasn't a question. "Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Thoughts froze as I tried to find something to say. Erique had said so much. But Philippe was an asshole, not a monster. However, thinking about it, something always bothered me about that night.

How much danger would I be in for asking it?

"Silence. Silence," Raoul called over the room.

Saved by the bell. Again. Bless him.

"Hold that thought. I'll only be a moment," Philippe said and kissed my hand.

He joined Raoul on stage, charming and handsome as he could be. Guess maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It didn't matter that I wished he was someone else.

I scanned the room for signs of Erique. If what he said was true about Philippe, he'd want revenge.

"…Melody Reilly," Philippe said.

I snapped from my swirling thoughts. The crowd around me applauded.

I loved singing but I didn't want to do it again tonight.

"Melody. Would you join me please?"

A shark's smile spread across his face. The pit in my stomach grew as I neared the stage.

Clammy hands took mine and guided me up. "None of this would have been possible without you," he said. "And I would like every event here after to be with you as well." He reached into his pocket and dropped to his knee.

This had to be a coincidence, right?

His words were incomprehensible as I stared down at the hideous gold ring set with a large diamond, surrounded by small, various colored pebbled stones.

Dread like I'd never felt plagued me. Not only did I think Erique wasn't lying. I knew it.

"Philippe," I said, not sure of what to say and worried all at once. "How did you know they were friends?"

Not the smartest thing, but there it was.

"What?" he asked, glancing at the crowd confused.

"How did you—"

" Angel of light in darkness of night. "

That thunderous voice that ignited my soul, the one I banished, filled the ballroom with song. My pulse quickened with every sound from his lips as my eyes searched the area. It was wishful thinking that he'd leave.

Philippe gripped me tightly, trying to hide me behind him.

"Sweet. Oh sweet. So beautiful. All life flowed like air around you. Desperate, this demon crawled to breathe you in."

Scared and captivated by the voice they couldn't pinpoint, the crowd glanced around nervously. " Cherche-le !" Philippe shouted.

"Stop!" I yelled at the top of my lungs like I had never done before. Tears welling in the corners of my eyes. "Leave this place, Erique! You're not wanted." Why wouldn't he listen? Staying was a death sentence.

"This devil, this monster, haunts and taunts, but only desires to serve this angel of light," Erique continued.

Shrieks bounced off walls. My eyes followed the turning faces. Erique emerged from the shadows in a doorway at the other end of the room as the shrills grew louder.

"She told you she doesn't want you, creature!" Philippe said.

"To you, my angel, my heart, I would never lie. From hell you pulled me..." he sang as the sea of people parted to make way. "This soul breathes again, only for you. Deity of time."

You stupid man.

I fought the ache at the corner of my eye. What was he doing? Run.

"Enough of this," Philippe said and yanked me. "Get him!"

Erique stopped at the center of the room. Without moving, he peered around at the gawking, moved faces of the crowd.

"For air is second to the spring beating of a heart that never lived."

In a swift movement, the Opera Ghost dropped to the floor with a clink, and in his place was Erique. Head held high as the screams let out.

"Here before you I stand, humbled and me. As you wished I would always be," he finished.

"You killed Ardashir, didn't you?" I asked Philippe.

He stilled, staring at me with hate blazing in his eyes as his fingers dug into my muscle. "You don't know what you're saying," he said.

Two officers from the hallway rushed in through the doorway towards Erique.

"Don't!" I screamed, whacking Philippe in the dick and tore away.

The officers had gotten to Erique before I could, forcing him to his knees.

I ran past disgusted faces and ignorant whispers. The officers stared, unsure of what to do as I met him on the floor. "No. No," I said, trying to cover his face with my hands. "Stop!" I spit at the gossiping onlookers. "We have to get your mask back on, my baby," I said, frantically glancing around for it.

"It's alright," he said, shaking his face from my hands, guiding them to his lips.

"You don't have to do this," I whispered.

"To show you means everything," he said.

"This is appalling! Arrest it! It's committed the greatest of sins. Murder!" Philippe screamed.

"The sin is not mine, Monsieur. And we both know," Erique said. His voice stronger than it had been throughout the night. "The sin is not mine," he repeated just for me, in a different desperate tone.

"I know," I said, and kissed him, hoping he felt the apology in my heart. In my soul.

Gasps commandeered the whispers. It didn't matter. Erique knew I believed him. That was what mattered.

With ripping pain, Philippe yanked me away. "Enough of this. You've embarrassed me for the last time, American whore," he seethed. "Now take him away!"

"He's not guilty. Stop! Stop!" I screamed as the officers grabbed at him harder. "I should have left with you, I'm so sorry, love!" I cried.

I reached out for Erique who tried to fight against them, but was failing for how weak he was. I didn't think Erique could ever lose.

I whipped my focus back to Philippe. "The night Ardashir died. You said he killed his friend. How did you know they were friends? No one knew that except me. And how did you know the girl was pregnant?"

"Be silent!" he said.

Loud ringing and stars clouded my mind when the back of a hand met the side of my head.

The audible gasp from the crowd had Philippe looking around like a cornered dog.

"They see the real monster now, boy," Erique spit.

Through the dizziness and stinging, a gentle hand took my arm as Christine helped me upright.

"Those are not his only crimes. Monsieur," Erique said, exhausted. "How was your time in Toulouse?"

My arm stung as I scurried to Erique, not sure of what could be done now.

"This creature would spin lies to save himself and his whore," Philippe mocked, spitting as he spoke. "Do not believe a word of it."

"Toulouse?" Raoul asked, stepping in from the crowd. "What of it?"

"Hold your tongue, boy!" Philippe scorned.

"The girl's friend fell victim to the same death during your visit. Interesting, no?" Erique said, tossing the notepad at Raoul's feet. "It is in Persian speak, but the information is there."

Raoul picked up the notepad and opened it. "You were there a few months ago on emergency, do you not remember?" he asked his brother.

"This thing has brainwashed her," Philippe spat. "I wasn't even in France when the girl died."

"That's right, he was in London," Raoul answered, questioning his own mind.

"You see," Philippe said, stomping to the officers. "Nothing but a lying beast that needs to be put down."

"No, I saw you at the Opera that night. Just before act three," Christine said.

"Are you sure?" Raoul asked as she joined him.

"Yes. I didn't know he was your brother until I saw you both a month later. But he was there. Walking down the dressing room hall. I know it was him."

Philippe's eyes widened. "You lying whore." He reached into the coat of the officer next to him and pulled a small pistol from its holster. "That's all you women are. Lying whores."

"Philippe, enough of this! Please!" Raoul shouted.

"Stupid pathetic waste of life. How dare you," he said to Raoul. "Come on." He grabbed my wrist and tore me from Erique. The officers stepped back as he waved the gun around like a madman.

"Unhand her," Erique growled, watching like a wolf targeting his prey. Ready to pounce at any moment.

I shook my head, warning him. But his sights didn't waver.

"Come, we're leaving, darling," Philippe said. His voice heavy with disdain. "There's been a change in plans."

***

It seemed Philippe's driver didn't care that he was holding someone hostage as he forced me into his carriage.

"Well. That was not ideal," Philippe said snidely as we bounced along the uneven roads just outside the city.

"What now?" I asked, staring at the gun in his hand.

"I can't believe I was starting to like you. Even considered calling the whole thing off."

"Just let me go, Philippe," I said. "Everyone knows what you did."

"You still would have preferred that sewer dweller over a life of luxury and title?" he scoffed. "Of course you would. It just makes all this much easier, I guess."

"That's what this was all about? Rejection?" You were going to kill me and Erique, for rejection?"

Clutching the knife in my pocket, I bore holes through his head as I imagined every awful thing I would do to him. "In every life he's the easy choice," I said. At least I had the opportunity to let Erique know before we wouldn't have a chance again.

I hoped he was alright. What was going to happen to him now?

"As for this unfortunate situation," he said. "Money makes people blind. In any case. It was just a whore. And as for you, dearest, I do have a question before we part ways." He shifted, still aiming the pistol at me. With a twist in his face, he asked, "How could you possibly fuck that thing?" My teeth nearly cracked at the question. I was clenching my jaw so hard. "That sewer rat's face is absolutely the most grotesque thing I've ever seen. I realize that it's partially my fault, but Jesus Christ. I was nauseous just staring at it."

"That face is more beautiful than any part of you. It's also why I couldn't stomach the idea of fucking you…"

My cheek stung and my eye felt like it was going to pop from its socket as his hand landed across it again.

"You disgusting flea of American rubbish." Philippe spit in my face. My shaking hand rushed to wipe it off. "Don't forget how easy you were to convince that your precious Erique was the monster."

"And it's something I'll have to live with."

"Not for long." Philippe put the gun in his coat pocket. "I'm going to enjoy this." Then lunged at me.

Dark eyes filled with hate and excitement seared into me. Nostrils flared in fury. Lips mashed together in rage. The confined space and uneven road made it difficult for him to keep steady pressure as he attempted to crush my windpipe. The strain in my throat as I tried to keep breathing, tore and burned. Nails clawed at his face and hands, trying anything to loosen his grip.

An insignificant man would be the one to take me out. Every fear coming to life.

Such shit.

The world faded and swirled around me as death sat on my chest.

"Phil…" I tried to say.

***

Stars faded in and out through a small opening in the dark. I tried to muster resistance, weakly fighting against the hands that tugged at me. "No!" I finally managed. My voice raspy and throat sore.

"You've found your voice, Angel."

That voice, I knew that voice.

Squinting my lids, I focused on the dark figure holding onto my arms. "Erique? How are you here?"

He huffed, helping me to my feet. "I told you, I will never leave you."

My hands clenched around his forearms, attempting to steady myself. I think he was doing the same.

I stood amazed that he was without his mask. "How did you escape?" I asked, still dazed.

"Black smoke."

Erique always had a trick up his sleeve. Almost anyway.

We were still in the carriage that had turned onto its side. With help from each other, we managed to crawl out from the wrecked car through the window.

The moon's light touched brush, sparse trees and a long dirt road. In the distance lying face down was Philippe.

"He was thrown from the cab when it overturned," Erique said, then fell back against the undercarriage.

"We need to get you help," I said, my throat ripping as I spoke. "I'll get the horses."

The horses had broken from the carriage, luckily one still hung around close by. I took a few steps, stopping at sight of the driver laying nearby.

"He's unconscious," Erique said, as if reading my mind.

Crack!

Erique dropped. I turned to catch him before he hit the ground, missing completely. "Erique!"

"Don't worry," Philippe said, stepping up, pointing the gun at Erique's chest. "I promised you'd be together soon. I won't make her wait."

I wasn't going to lose him again. I wasn't going to stand by and have Erique lose!

"Philippe, don't!" I screamed.

The trigger pulled back, and the world stopped.

Surprise graced our faces when nothing happened.

"No!" Philippe yelled, going for a large rock within reach.

I pounced onto his back without thought as he bent over, throwing all my weight as I latched on. He stumbled forward, hitting the ground hard enough to yelp. Frantically, I found the little Smith & Wesson in my pocket and yanked it out.

"You should've just let us go," I cried and drove the blade into the side of his neck and pushed down, ripping open the flesh. My hand warmed as the red spilled over it.

Tremors attacked my body as I let go immediately. The sticky knife rolled from my hand as Philippe's lifeless body collapsed to the earth.

The worst panic came from the sight of Erique's unmoving body. Fear spread through me, weighing me down with every step as I rushed to him.

His body was heavy as I shook him, skin paler than usual. I pressed my fingers to his wrist, checking for a pulse. It was faint but there.

My eyes darted around for the horses. The one that had stayed behind ran off with the sound of the gun. How was I going to get him out of here?

Tears blinded and choked my voice worse than the pain. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault," I cried, brushing the hair back the face he tried so hard to hide from the world.

My heart stopped as a gentle pressure rested onto the crown of my head. "You'll never be free of me," he said grunting from the pain of moving. Startled, I sat up. Eyes wide with surprise and relief. " Comte de Vermin is a terrible shot," he said, attempting to reach for his shoulder blade.

I lunged forward and cradled his face, running my hand through his filthy hair. "Hi," I cried and kissed him feverishly.

"Angel," he said, as if it were a prayer.

"Stop!" I ordered as he tried to sit up.

"This isn't the first time I've been shot, my Love."

"It shouldn't be too bad to get out once I find it," I said, trying to roll him over.

All that time in the rural fire department so many years ago where I never tended a wound, was about to finally pay off. Fuck.

"Breast pocket," he said, not aiding in my attempt to roll him over.

"What? No, I need to find your wound, my baby."

"Breast pocket," he said again.

Beautiful eyes stared as if he hadn't seen me in a hundred years. He's probably dying, but he'd rather sit here beneath the stars and look at me.

Reluctantly, I reached into the pocket, wiggling my bloody fingers around until I stopped on a little object. I pulled it out and stared in disbelief. In my hand was the silver ring with blue sapphires and white diamonds I thought I'd lost.

"How do you get this?" I asked.

"Courtesy of the dearly departed."

"My sister once said God himself could hand deliver the person made for me, and I'd still find reason not to believe it was true. I don't want things to change. Men always change."

The matching encrusted band he wore glimmered in the light of the moon as he found my hand. "If I change to your displeasure, send me off to dance in hell with M. de Vermin . I would deserve no less."

"Speaking of. If we could stop killing people, I'd appreciate it."

"If that is what you wish," he said, as his lids grew heavy.

I slipped the ring on my hand and held Erique's tired face. "I'm so sorry. I was still looking for a reason to run. That's why I think I wanted to believe you did it."

"I know," he said.

I glanced around again for the horses or anyone that could help. We were alone.

I rattled him a little until his heavy eyes refocused. "You are going to be an amazing husband. The best," I said, trying to hide the terror in my voice. I just hope he got to be…

"I know," he said, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his dried lips.

"Ass."

He rolled his head to better look at me. "But I can only be a husband if you say yes. Do you say yes, Melody… Amber Reilly?"

I kissed his lips and nodded. "All the yeses, Erique."

"Good. Fear had me weakened at thought of the destruction of another book. But I would have done it."

I laughed softly. "Now, we have to get back. So we can go home."

Captivating eyes dulled and rolled as his lids closed. His breathing slowed and pulse faded beneath my fingers.

"Erique. Erique, please, wake up! Wake up!" I sobbed into his chest checking for a heartbeat, yelling again for a miracle.

This was how it was always going to end for the Phantom. No matter what I did. The story was going to be the same.

We would finally overcome all our fears, mostly, then we would be ripped apart by death?

"No!" I screamed into his face, shaking him hard. "This isn't how this story's gonna end!" I slapped him.

The stomping of hooves and twigs snapping jolted me around. For a moment I thought Philippe had somehow managed to survive, or maybe the driver was ready to attack. I gasped to find Cesar, the white and gray peppered horse, Erique's favorite, barreling toward us with Raoul at the reins.

I turned back and grabbed Erique's face one more time. "This isn't how our story ends, Erique! You won't die tonight! Please! Please, wake up!"

It's been really hard. Lonely at times.

Even though Christine has come to terms that she was wrong about Philippe, both her and Raoul have stayed their distance somewhat. I can't blame them.

What I did to Philippe—even though he tried to kill me and Erique—after Raoul saw him like that, he just hasn't been the same. I'm hoping, for Christine, he'll come around.

Even with the death of Philippe, Raoul and the few others that showed up with him helped me get Erique to someone.

It was touch and go for days, but eventually he was awake enough to not allow me away from his side, afraid he was going to lose me again.

Antoinette has been really there for me though. Now that she knows everything and understands. She finally got to see what I see in Erique. I just wish she'd seen it sooner. Maybe Erique would have felt more love before it all went bad. Though yes, it is also his fault for thier relationship.

The whole thing has been insane. Which has made the past few months suspicious. Because it's been normal. Quiet. Well. Mostly.

I think you'd really like him, eventually.

I wish you were here, but you'd hate the smell.

Though it's taken time for some to heal from his lying and stuff, it's getting better. However, the tension with the managers is still a bit intense. Erique's offered to help with productions and things in exchange for his salary instead of extortion. I think they're a bit scared still, which is why they agreed.

I'm still not sure how he's managed to stay out of jail or anything like that since everyone knows who he is now. I mean, everyone thought he was a ghost for at least fifteen years, and he's killed people.

Our opera, The Phantom's Melody, is almost complete. It's definitely different from the stories we know, especially because he doesn't die at the end. We're just putting some finishing touches on it before presenting to the house as a possibility for the next season. And guess who's trying out? It only took me falling into the scariest thing in my life, to finally get what I've always wanted.

Oh, by the way, we're getting married…

"What are you writing, my Heart ?" he said, breaking my concentration with a kiss to the temple. I didn't even hear him come back from his outing.

Erique still rarely went out, especially in the day, but it was getting better. Though people stared—because he's wearing a mask—they only stared. Nothing much else. Whether they knew the stories of the Ghost or not, he's found most people just stayed away.

"A letter home," I said. "I thought I'd try it. I've seen it in movies and thought maybe there could be a way. It's stupid."

My body ached staring at him. I bit my lip, forgetting what I was doing before. I hated when he unbuttoned his shirt. It was worse when he let his wavy hair free instead of slicking it back.

"Don't do that," he warned, running a thumb over my top lip. "There are several banks along the way to London. We can see if there is something to be done." Butterflies tickled my body as he kissed my hand and pulled me to him. "We are going to need a deposit box anyway."

His soft kiss had my knees weak. I couldn't wait. We were leaving in the morning to travel for a few weeks. He was taking me to places he wished he could have seen in a better way. Through my eyes, as he liked to say. I couldn't be prouder of him.

"I have something for you, my darling wife," he said, pulling out a folded paper.

"Not for a few more weeks, turbo," I said. Even though the word was kind of growing on me, it was still a little weird to hear.

"We were eternal the moment you kissed me."

Gentle kisses seared along my neck, and goosebumps spread over my flesh. Tingling trailed behind fingertips as they traveled along the length of my arm.

Poorly, I ignored his advances and unfolded the sheet of paper. It seemed to be a title or deed of some kind. "What is this," I asked.

"No more managers." His lips moved to my ear, caressing like a breeze over wild grass.

"Did you buy us a theater?"

"Mmmm," he purred.

"What about this place?" I said, glancing around the living room to our underground home.

His lips moved to my jaw, nipping and kissing at my hypersensitive skin. My eyes rolled back, giving in just enough to the sensations coursing through me, urging me into submission.

"We will elevate the theater in London. Where our music will play. In our theater. Starting with The Phantom's Melody ," he said.

"We aren't coming back?"

"Only if you want to. I belong wherever you are."

Our tongues laced together in slow passion, but I was still trying to focus on the surprise. We're moving to London to run a theater. Holy shit.

I attempted to look over the paper to our future again, landing on the names at the bottom. It was signed with a familiar last name. One I'd heard all my life.

"Where did you hear this name?" I asked, staring more intently at it.

"It means reborn. That is what we are. Life has offered us rebirth, my Love. And we will embrace it."

"I… I don't know the first thing about this," I barely uttered under his touch.

"We can do anything. Don't you know that by now, Mrs. Rena?tre ?" he said and pushed my legs open to settle in between.

Hearing it out loud almost made me laugh. The name my mother had told me over and over since birth. Sure, why not? Of course, I would be named after myself.

Guess she was wrong about the French part though. That was my soon to be husband. And not exactly a playwright. But close enough.

I chuckled at the irony though as the man of my fantasies continued his exhibition of my body.

The stories were written. But it could still change. There's so much unknown. So much that could happen. I never looked into the story of Melody and her mysterious husband. I didn't know how it ended.

The sudden fear of losing Erique again weaved through the shield of love that had formed around me. "But what if…?"

"Shhh…" he purred.

And just like that, the spike of fear and the future melted away under his scorching kiss, and all was forgotten.