Chapter Thirty-Five
Carmen was a statue. It was like someone poured quick drying cement over her head. She didn’t move at all. Not even to breathe. The cast-iron candelabra was still raised high above her head, frozen in its place. Maybe because she was afraid Debbie was going to get back up. Or maybe because she was afraid that she wouldn’t.
“Did I kill her?” Carmen asked in a strained, hushed whisper. “Oh God, tell me I didn’t kill her.”
“No . . . no, she’s breathing.”
Rebecca saw the slight rise and fall of Debbie’s chest, so it wasn’t a lie. But she also saw the blood gushing from the wound on her head where Carmen had hit her. She had to wonder how long that statement would hold true. Either way, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She kicked the gun as far out of Debbie’s reach as possible with the heel of her shoe before jumping to her feet and running over to help Justyn. Rebecca was smarter than the average B-horror movie heroine.
“Oh, God,” Carmen repeated. Her voice rose in pitch several octaves. “They’re dead. They’re all dead, aren’t they?”
Carmen was nearing hysteria. Rebecca had been there herself more than enough times in the last few weeks to recognize the signs. She might have found herself in the same condition if fear for Justyn hadn’t overshadowed every other emotion. He was silent and still and the dripping blood was growing from a puddle to a pool with every second that passed. There wasn’t any time to waste. Rebecca had to pull herself together. She had to take charge. There was no one else who was going to do it.
“Carmen, go check on Tom. Then get out his cell phone and call for help.”
Carmen nodded and obeyed wordlessly, subservient for the first time in her life. She seemed relieved to have a purpose. The candle holder fell to the ground with a loud clank. But even over that noise, Rebecca heard sirens in the distance. She realized Tom must have gotten through to someone on his cell after all. At least, she hoped that was the case and it wasn’t just wishful thinking.
Rebecca heard Tom murmur and moan as Carmen reached into his pocket to get the phone. She heard the three quick beeps, one long and two short, as she dialed the familiar emergency number. As soon as she got an answer, she began to explain their present situation to the operator, in hurried, heated sentences.
Rebecca was pretty busy herself; untying the complicated knots that bound Justyn’s wrists to the chair. When she finally managed to succeed, she wondered if she had made the right decision. The full weight of his unconscious body fell heavily against her small frame. She was sure they would both go crashing to the ground. But before that happened, a pair of strong arms reached out and helped Rebecca ease Justyn gently to the ground.
“Is he alive?” Tom asked.
“Of course he’s alive!” She didn’t mean to snap at him, especially not when Tom was obviously not at his peak. His face was bruised and bloodied and almost as white as Justyn’s. But it was such a terrible question. One Rebecca had been too afraid to ask herself, and one she certainly didn’t want to hear. Instead, she focused on giving orders. “Help me stop the bleeding.”
While she knew it was bad to move people who were seriously injured, it had to be far worse to just stand by and watch them bleed out. So Rebecca made an executive decision, and put Tom in charge of pressing a white ruffled dress shirt against the gushing wound on Justyn’s shoulder.
His shoulder! Rebecca was more than a little relieved to see that it was only his shoulder that had been hit, not his chest as she had originally thought. There wasn’t much chance that the bullet had hit his heart or his lungs or anything else vital. At least she didn’t think so. She was also beyond grateful to the powers that be when she noticed his breathing got a little stronger. He even flinched when Tom’s strong hands pressed down against his shoulder. Still, he had already lost so much blood. That couldn’t be good. The fact that his face was so completely chalk white couldn’t be good either.
“Justyn,” she whispered. She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice as she touched his colorless cheek. She didn’t want to give away how scared she was. “Justyn, can you hear me?”
“This is bad,” Tom muttered. He was doing his best to keep the pressure on the wound, but the white shirt was already soaked through with bright red blood. “Really bad.”
He was right. Rebecca certainly couldn’t argue. But just the same, she wished he hadn’t said it out loud.
“Yes . . . yes. We’re behind the stage in the auditorium.” Carmen was screaming into the cell phone, as if talking louder would somehow bring about faster results. “Yes, people are hurt, you moron! What have I been telling you? Well, tell them to hurry! Someone’s bleeding to death here!”
Another statement Rebecca could have gone forever without hearing. She tried not to think about it. Tried not to look at the blood at all, and instead she concentrated on studying the rise and fall of Justyn’s chest. Knowing he was still with her was the only thing that was keeping Rebecca sane.
Carmen went on barking directions into the phone while Rebecca and Tom stayed beside Justyn. Tom grabbed another shirt and did his best to stop the bleeding, even though he looked like he was ready to pass out himself. Rebecca stroked Justyn’s hair, and squeezed his hand. She tried not to notice how cold his skin felt against her burning fingertips. In contrast to his black clothes, his pale face made him seem more vampirish than ever. Except for the fact that his beautiful, perfect, face was mangled. He might have really been the phantom at that moment. But it didn’t matter. She would take him scarred for life if she had to, just as long as she had him for life.
“Justyn, don’t you dare leave me. Enough with all this drama—open your eyes already! Just open your eyes and tell me you’re all right.” She sobbed as she laid her head gently against his chest. “Please, open your eyes, Justyn. Please! Do you hear me, you big jerk?”
She didn’t really expect any response. She was surprised when she felt him shudder beneath her. She lifted her head just as he began to cough and gasp. It startled her at first, but then she felt a warm rush of relief as his eyes fluttered open.
“You . . . just can’t make it through . . . a single . . . sentence . . . without insulting me.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “Justyn, oh Justyn . . . .” She was too overcome with raw emotion to even begin to express her gratitude in mere words. She didn’t even care that he was still making fun of her.
“See that . . . .” He squeezed her hand back with more strength than she would have thought was possible. “This phantom wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Didn’t I tell you that all along?”
She actually laughed, even as the tears slipped down her cheeks. “And I told you that Christine wasn’t really as helpless as she seemed.”
“Of course not.” He gave her a small grin that was more grimace than smile. “At least not this Christine. This Christine is my personal hero.”
“Oh, Justyn . . . .”
“Lord . . . . Justyn,” he corrected.
She rolled her eyes. “Lord Justyn . . . .” She relented, but then grew more serious. “I . . . I love you.”
“I love you too, Becca.” As weak as he was, he managed to use his one good arm to pull her down close enough to touch her lips. “Forever.”
Tom and Carmen and even Debbie were forgotten in that one moment. That one moment that filled her heart with a complete and unbelievable happiness. Two soul mates were merging into one. She knew somehow that everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay because Justyn was okay, and nothing else really mattered.
Just as she broke away from Justyn’s embrace, the EMTs crashed onto the scene. Better late than never, Rebecca figured. Once they looked him over, they assured her that he was going to survive. And that was all Rebecca needed to hear. With a sigh of pure relief, she climbed into the ambulance to ride with Justyn to the hospital.
It was over. The nightmare was over.