Chapter 24

Christine stretched out in the sun, shaking her hair out so that some of it escaped off of her beach towel and onto the sand. She didn't care. This was her third trip to LA for business but the first time she had allowed herself a lazy beach day. She took a deep breath, savoring sea air that smelled slightly different than it did on the east coast, but still wonderfully familiar. She hadn't been able to make it to the ocean in a while between publicity for her new album and helping Raoul plan his upcoming wedding to Jax. Christine knew that in this industry, being busy was a good sign. She was wealthy now, on the verge of becoming obscenely rich, but she'd never been in it for the money.

Music had begun to come back to her after receiving Erik's letter. She'd poured through her old notebook and sobbed her way through songs she'd written when she was first beginning to fall for the mysterious and seductive man, before she had truly seen his darkness. She'd finally worked up the courage to leave Rich and Andre for a record label that let her write her own music, and the rush of performing to excited crowds was currently the most precious thing in her life. Christine's therapist said that expressing her grief and turmoil through music was a healthy way to process and move forward, and Nadir said Erik would have been proud. She and Nadir had met often, since the first time she called him, and he had slowly explained everything he knew about Erik's past. It didn't really help, to know all of the terrible details of Erik's long and painful life. But she liked being able to talk to someone else who had known him, even if Nadir had met Erik while arresting him. Apparently Erik had never been one for simple relationships.

Christine turned onto her stomach, and noticed a camera lens peeking out from a dune. She sighed. There wasn't much she could do at this point. Doubtless the paparazzo already had all the pictures of the famous singer in her bikini that he wanted. There would probably be all sorts of dumb speculations and questions about the meaning of her tattoo now, but she didn't care. No one but those closest to her would be able to guess the truth. It was a simple red rose, life sized and located a little below her left breast. Christine had intentionally placed the memento over her diaphragm, the origin of her voice, and, she suspected, her soul.