Phantom (25 page)

“There’s more,” Debbie said quietly. “Something we overheard Miss King say after you left on Friday.”

Of
course
there was more. She hadn’t fallen into a state of complete catatonia yet. There
had
to be more, just enough to finish the job. Then she could be on her way to get fitted for her straitjacket. She fought the urge to cover her ears with her hands.

“Someone sawed the railing on the platform,” Tom told her. “That’s the reason why Justyn fell.”

Rebecca let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. That wasn’t so bad. She had already figured that out by herself.

“Obviously, whoever did it had no idea that Tom was going to go ballistic,” Carmen added. “Which can only mean one thing . . . .”

Rebecca had never once thought about the reasoning behind the sawed railing. She hadn’t had time to think about it. She was too busy coddling Justyn over his injuries. Taking care of him was all that mattered at the time. She had never once thought about the danger the compromised prop had presented to
her
. Never considered for a second that
she
could have been the one to fall. And there would have only have been one person up there with her. Only one person who could have made the possibility become a harsh reality. Suddenly it seemed obvious. It was a bright neon danger sign flashing in her mind’s eye. Rebecca didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to hear the words spoken aloud, but she couldn’t resist. Morbid fascination was taking control again.

“What . . . what does it mean?”

“Whoever sawed that railing probably meant for
you
to fall, Becca,” Debbie said softly, verifying Rebecca’s own awful conclusions. “And it was probably
Justyn
that wanted you to fall.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rebecca’s gasp was drowned out by the sound of the rustling curtain. They were all startled by the interruption and fell silent as Justyn stepped out onto the stage. Why did he have to have the ability to move seemingly without sound? And why did he always have to sneak up on her at the most inopportune moments? It was obvious from the look on his face that he had heard every word her friends had said. Not even the large dark bruise that covered the left half of his forehead could take her attention away from the devastated look in his eyes.

She was so stupid, so disloyal, so easily influenced by other people’s opinions. Why didn’t she say something? She should have defended him. Or walked away. Or done something that might have made that pained look on his face disappear. The trouble was, she wasn’t entirely sure that she didn’t agree with Tom’s conclusions. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Justyn wasn’t the one who had killed Jay—or more precisely, the one who had wanted to kill Tom.

Justyn didn’t say a word. He didn’t acknowledge the others at all. He only looked at her with such utter despair that it completely broke her heart. She couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“Justyn . . . .” she began.

He shook his head and disappeared back the way he had come. She wanted to call him back and tell him she was sorry. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and make everything beautiful again, the way it had been the night before. She wondered if that was ever going to be possible. She suddenly knew exactly how Judas and Benedict Arnold must have felt when they came to realize the full extent of their treachery.

“Oh, God, what did I do . . . ?”

“What did
you
do?” Tom snorted. “
You
didn’t do anything. Be glad if he stays away from you from now on. You’ll be a lot safer.”

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush hotly. What right did Tom, Carmen, and Debbie have to play judge and jury? She knew the person she was really angry with was herself, but it didn’t stop her from taking that anger out on Tom.

“Safer? With
you
?” Rebecca huffed. “Maybe until you decide to toss
me
off the stage.”

Tom flinched as though she had slapped him. Good. He should feel bad about what he had done. He should feel terrible.

“Come on, Becca. You know I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Do I, Tom? How do I know that? Maybe the person I should be staying away from is
you
!”

Rebecca stormed away, ignoring the gaping mouths of Carmen and Debbie. She tried to follow the path that Justyn had taken, but wasn’t really surprised when she was unable to find him. He was probably hiding in the shadows somewhere, justifiably sulking.

He didn’t reappear until it was time for his first scene, and even then, he refused to look her in the eyes and avoided touching her as much as possible. Only when they reached the scene where Christine removed the phantom’s mask for the first time did she see any real emotion in his face. That emotion was pure fury. The terrifying sentiment was echoed clearly in the words on his song. There was no doubt in her mind that those words were directed at her.

“Temptress of lies with your unearthly wiles.
A succubus hidden behind lovely smiles
Shrew that was sent from the depths of hell
If you meant to destroy me than you have done well.”

He knocked down multiple iron candle holders as he raged across the stage, all the while keeping the one side of his face hidden with his hand. Erik was trying to shield both Christine and himself from the horrible view of his malformation. Justyn was just trying to mask his pain.

If Rebecca hadn’t already been cowering on the ground in her role, she might have wound up on her knees trembling anyway, so powerful was the extent of his performance. He sang each word with the passion of true agony. In that moment, he was the tortured man who lived in seclusion under the opera house—not really a phantom, but just a lonely, broken man who had known nothing but rejection and pain throughout the whole of his life. A man who was hurt and betrayed by the only woman he had shown his true face to. A woman who had shied away from that face in fear even though she knew better than anyone that the man beneath the mask wasn’t really a monster.

In that moment, Rebecca hated herself more than ever, and wondered how she could have ever doubted Justyn. She was just as weak as Christine, just as treacherous. Just as foolish because she was throwing away the possibility of real love due to childish fears and doubts.

Rebecca was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even realize when Justyn stopped singing. The music continued to play, but he had fallen into silence. She knew something was wrong, even before she looked up. He was standing in front of one of the many mirrors, and in the reflection, she could see the grimace he was trying so hard to hide. He was bent over, clutching his side. It gave Rebecca even more reason to chide herself. She should have known that he would still be in pain. He had just broken his ribs. And even though his mother was a kitchen witch, she wasn’t going to be able to magically heal broken bones overnight. In fact, Darlene had said herself that he would be hurting a lot worse the day after the accident. Judging from the look on his face, he must have been in agony. And she had added insult to injury, hurting him in a much deeper way. What kind of person was she?

“Cut the music!” Miss King called out in disgust. She climbed up onto the stage with her hands on her hips. “Justyn, is there some sort of problem?”

Justyn made an effort to stand a little straighter as he turned to face the director, but he couldn’t quite manage to drop his hand from his side. He whispered something to her, too softly for Rebecca to hear from the spot where she was still crouching in a huddle on the stage. The teacher’s face softened considerably.

“All right. Go get some rest. Opening night is only ten days away. I need you fully recovered by then.”

Justyn nodded and took a few tentative steps down from the stage. He was halfway to the door before Rebecca was finally over the shock of him cutting practice for the second day in a row and was spurred into action. She pulled herself up from the floor, and went over to Miss King, tapping her on the arm before she could go back to her regular seat in the front row.

“Miss King, is Justyn all right?”

She sighed, very heavily. “He wasn’t feeling well, Rebecca. I told him he was excused.”

Rebecca chewed her lower lip with worry. The teacher was watching her with a wary expression, waiting for the next drama to unfold in the never—ending string of dramas she’d been forced to endure since she had made her casting choices.

“If it’s all right, I’d like to go with him. If he’s not feeling well, someone should drive him home.”

Miss King rolled her eyes. “Oh, Becca, I swear this love triangle of yours is going to drive me to an early retirement. But fine . . . go. What good is Christine without the phantom, anyway?”

“Thank you, Miss King!” Rebecca called back as she ran to grab her book bag. She had just swung it over her shoulder and was getting ready to dart back down the steps when Tom grabbed her arm.

“You aren’t going after him, are you, Becca? Not again.”

Rebecca sighed, even more deeply than Miss King had. “Yes, Tom, I am. He’s hurt and he needs me.”

“I’m getting a little tired of playing second to that freak show,” Tom told her. She swore she could hear his teeth grinding. “If you go, that’s it! We’re through, Becca. For good.”

Rebecca stopped for a minute. Four years of fantasies were coming to an end. Four years of imagining herself beside the school heartthrob. Tom had proven himself to be a lot less perfect than she had thought. He had his jealous side and he was showing that right now. He was squeezing her arm so tightly she was sure he would leave a bruise. How did she know he wasn’t the person who had been terrorizing her? If she was truly the motive, didn’t it reason that Tom could be just as guilty as Justyn? Maybe Jay’s accident had been planned by them as a cover up, but got out of hand. Maybe Tom had even killed his friend on purpose to throw everyone off track. It was a stretch, but wasn’t it possible that the roles of Erik and Raoul had been reversed in their real life play?

She pulled her arm away from Tom. “Then I guess we’re through.”

Rebecca ran down the stage, and out of the auditorium without a backward glance. She hoped she wasn’t too late to catch up with him. Luckily, Justyn wasn’t moving as quickly as he normally did. Taking the hallway at a sprint, she was able to reach him just as he was pushing open the main doors.

“Jus . . . Justyn . . . wait,” she called out, still slightly breathless from running.

He paused for a millisecond, and she knew he heard her, but he kept walking straight through the door without turning around. What he didn’t realize was that Rebecca had her stubborn side too, and she wasn’t going to be put off that easily.

“Come on, Justyn,” she said once she had caught up. She slowed her steps to walk in stride with him. “Don’t be this way.”

He grunted. “What way is that, Becca? I’m not in character for the crazed killer you apparently think I am? Would it help if I pulled out my ritual dagger and held it against your throat?”

The harsh tone in his voice made her flinch. “That isn’t fair. I wasn’t the one who said those things.”

“But you didn’t defend me either. I thought after last night . . . I thought you had realized.”

He let the sentence trail off. Rebecca lifted the eyes she had lowered in shame, too curious not to ask. “Realized what?”

Justyn grimaced, sucked in a hard breath through his teeth, and sat down on the bench at the edge of the student walkway. “Nothing, forget it. I don’t really feel up to convincing you that I’m not a murderer right now.”

Rebecca sighed and sat down next to him. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, not only physically but emotionally. But she didn’t know what to say, and she was too afraid that he would push her away if she reached out to him.

“Are you okay?” That was the best she could manage.

“Considering the fact that your hero dumped me off a fifteen foot platform, I’d say I’m doing just fine.”

Rebecca shook her head. “Tom isn’t my hero. He’s a jerk.”

Justyn raised an eyebrow. “You’re just figuring that out?”

 Rebecca felt a little annoyed at his patronizing tone of voice. Here she was, swallowing her pride, pushing aside her doubts, just to make sure he was all right, and he was giving her his normal Gothic attitude. She felt like tossing him off another platform.

“You know what, Justyn, you’re a jerk, too. The two of you have been treating me like some sort of prize in the macho wars since day one.”

He sighed and put his head in his hands. “If you think I’m that much of a jerk, then why did you waste your time following me out here?”

 His voice didn’t have half the strength that it normally did, and she could see that it was hard for him to breathe without grimacing. He was making a valiant effort to hide it from her. It made her feel even guiltier.

“I’m the biggest jerk of all. I shouldn’t be arguing with you when you’re in pain. It’s just that you’re so frustrating sometimes.”

“You just
can’t
make it through a single statement without insulting me, can you?” He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace, and escalated into a moan. He put his head in his hands. “
Aghhh
, I should have listened to Darlene and stayed home today.”