Page 19 of Bewitched by the Phantom (The Bewitching Hour #6)

Chapter

Eighteen

C laudia is the one who meets me at the door when I try to sneak back into our apartment. I’m not surprised, but I’m also a little panicked still after my interaction with Erik. She must see my wide eyes and general air of frantic “I’m fucked” because she immediately drops her grin.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, reaching for me.

“Nothing,” I say too quickly. I know I immediately make a mistake because she narrows her eyes on me.

“Are we not friends?” she demands.

“We are,” I admit, biting my lip.

“Then what the fuck is wrong? Did he hurt you? Did something happen?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t hurt me. I just . . .”

“You just what?” she asks. “Spit it out, Chris.”

I look down, anywhere but at her face. “You remember my mentor?”

“The Phantom guy who likes to keep his anonymous bullshit? Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s him,” I rasp.

She takes a step back. “I don’t understand.”

“Erik. The lead singer of Cadaver Cantata. He’s my Phantom,” I whisper.

Her jaw drops. “Shut up! You’re certain?”

I nod. “He admitted it. But also, I sent a message and his phone lit up.”

“Holy fuck.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “What do you think about this? Is this good? Is it bad? I don’t know how to react.”

“I . . . don’t know,” I admit. “I have no idea how to feel right now.”

“You were there all night!”

I wince. “That was before I knew he’s also my Phantom.”

“Chris,” she says again and I look up at her. “You were there all night.”

My wince deepens. “I was.”

Her face changes to curiosity. “And how was it? Be honest.”

The groan rips from my throat. “The best I’ve ever had.”

“Girl,” she says, drawing out the word. “Then what does this all matter?”

“Claudia! He’s been practically stalking me!” I say.

“Yeah, but . . . do you know how to scream the high notes because of this man or not?” she points out. “He legit made you better. And while I do think he’s a straight weirdo for the way he’s gone about it, I mean . . . what harm was there in it?”

“I can’t believe this,” I grumble. “I thought you of all people would be firmly on the ‘he’s bad news’ side.”

“Yeah, well . . . I’m in a rock band. I have a tattoo of a dead rat on my ass. We’re literally here at a sketchy competition contemplating if your stalker mentor is worth enough to not report him to the police.” She raises her brow at me. “Plus, it sounds like you had a very good time last night.”

I groan and cover my face with my hands. “That’s it. I’ve lost my mind. Clearly.”

She shrugs. “We’re all a little batty honestly.” She pats me on the shoulder. “So . . . did he leave the mask on the whole time?”

I nod. “He did.”

She grins. “Kinky. I kind of like that.” She purses her lips. “I’ve been eying their drummer?—”

“Claudia!” I growl. “This is a serious matter. What am I supposed to do?”

She raises her brows. “Fuck him again?”

“Claudia!”

“What?” she grunts. “That chemistry is great for the competition. You two still have to sing together tomorrow again?—”

“What?” I gasp. “What do you mean?”

“Oh. Were you busy when they made the announcement?” She laughs and playfully shoves me. “The label liked what they say and said they’re adding a real elimination round now with the duets.”

“Of course they change the rules again,” I growl. “Are they changing the bands around?”

“Nope, same as before. But this time high stakes and a preferred different song.” She shrugs.

“Ted specifically said we need to keep our vibe from before. They ate that shit up. The more you fuck him, the better our chances.” She pats me on the shoulder.

“Also, your buddy Raoul was looking for you not even ten minutes ago. Pretty sure the pretty boy wants to fuck you, too.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growl. “I’ll go find him.”

She points her finger at me. “Okay, but our solo rehearsal time is in a few hours. Make sure you don’t miss it. The duet rehearsal is after that.”

“I’ll be there,” I reassure her, before wandering off to find Raoul.

/-/-/-/

I find Raoul in the common area tuning his guitar, his pretty blonde hair hanging around his shoulders like he’s one step away from walking the runway at a fashion show.

Raoul has always been like that, put together and edgy.

I often teased him that he’d be a model one day when we were kids, but now that he’s an adult, I realize he really did have that potential.

At six foot five, the man is an attractive, rock giant.

Hell, he looks like he belongs on the set of a vampire movie, and yet also feels like sunshine. He’s the complete opposite of Erik.

“Hey,” I say as I step up close to him. “Claudia said you were looking for me.”

He peers up at me and his eyes light up when he takes in my baggy t-shirt and yoga pants. But the moment passes quickly, happiness giving away to worry almost immediately. “Yeah. I was hoping to talk to you.”

“What about?”

He sets his guitar down to the side and stands to his full height, towering over me like the giant he is. “Walk with me.” He gestures for me to follow him, so I do.

We stroll side by side for a ways, leaving behind the common area to trail down one of the smaller hallways. It’s quieter over here, too early for most of the bands to be meandering about. Raoul was always an early riser. Me? Not so much.

“So . . .” I say when he doesn’t immediately say anything.

“So . . .” he repeats with a smile. “I . . . wanted to talk with you. About . . . us.”

I stop dead in the middle of the hallway. “What do you mean? What about us?”

My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. It’s not anticipation. It’s more like anxiety. I’d hoped we would be able to put this off for longer, but clearly, he has other ideas.

“First, I should apologize for yesterday,” he murmurs. “I was being an asshole, and it makes sense you’d lash out at me. I had no business attacking you like that.”

“You’re not wrong,” I grunt. “I’m sorry if I hurt you with my words.”

“I deserved it,” he shrugs, before sighing. “But that’s not what this is about. Not exactly.”

“So then, what is it about?” I ask, staring up at him carefully.

“You know how I feel about you?—”

“We haven’t seen each other in ten years, Raoul,” I remind him.

Part of me thinks that’ll convince him of something, maybe that he doesn’t really know me.

Not anymore. I’m not the same kid I was.

I’m jaded now, bitter, darker. I don’t belong in the same sunshine I used to, but when Raoul looks at me, it’s clear he thinks I do.

Which is why I’d hoped to avoid this. I know Raoul has always liked me.

I know he’s maybe carried a torch for me all these years.

But I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t know if I can be the woman he wants me to be. I don’t even think I’d want to be.

“And in all those years, my feelings have never changed,” he says, his eyes on mine. He reaches for my hands and envelopes mine within his. “Chris, I’m not asking for a declaration of love. I’m just . . . asking for a chance.”

I wince. “Now really isn’t the time?—”

“Just a chance,” he presses. “That’s all I ask of you.”

I peer up at him. “And if I can’t give you that chance?”

His eyes flicker. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Things are just up in the air right now. This competition. Life. I don’t?—”

“It’s because of him, isn’t it?” he grunts.

I frown and play dumb. “Who?”

He shakes his head. “We both know you’re not that oblivious, Chris.” He crosses his arms. “The singer of Cadaver Cantata. Erik.”

“He has nothing to do with this?—”

“He’s bad news, Chris,” he growls. “Tell me you know that.”

I pinch my lips. “He’s just a man, Raoul.”

“Is he?” he asks. “Is he really just a man?”

“Of course he is. What else would he be?” I scowl.

Raoul hesitates, his eyes flickering to the darkness beyond where we walked. “What if . . . I told you he isn’t.”

“Isn’t what? A man?” I narrow my eyes. “I would say I don’t understand what you mean. I know you’re not about to launch into that not human bullshit again.”

“You’ve seen the weird shit,” he points out. “You’ve seen him do really weird shit. Things you can’t explain. He never removes the mask. He practically stalks you. The way he sings?—”

“You’ve lost your goddamned mind,” I grumble. “He’s weird, sure, but we all are?—”

“No, he’s beyond that and you know it!” He grabs my hands again. “Please listen to me, Chris. You don’t want to be with me? Fine. But at least don’t go running into that asshole’s arms.”

“I’m a grown ass woman,” I spit. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do?—”

“Then what are you asking!” I spit. “I don’t get it!”

“ Love me!” he growls. “Love me! ”

My lips clamp shut as I stare up at him. We were so close as childhood friends, but now, I’m not sure I even know who this man is. I’m not sure I can be what he wants. I don’t feel like I belong in the sunshine anymore. It doesn’t feel like home. Raoul doesn’t feel like home.

But Erik?

I pull my hands from his. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking a step back. “I don’t . . . I don’t have an answer for you.”

And then I turn on my heel and flee.