Prologue

My name is Christian Trevelyan-Grey, I'm a fifteen year old teenager and a tiny bit out of control. Notice the sarcasm dripping from that last statement.

I'm on my third high school adventure, because I tend to flip my lid good if someone touches me. Especially on my back and chest it's unbearable. I got into another fight this morning and my adoptive parents are momentarily talking to the principle.

I wonder what they will come up with, because normally they are somewhat lenient towards my issues, but I'm pretty sure that will not be the case this time. Carrick, my dad, was looking pissed off and Grace, my mother, wasn't far behind.

I'm sitting on an uncomfortable chair in front of the office, glaring at the floor and being stared at by passing students. Some of the girls are trying to talk to me, but I don't give them the time of day. What is the point of getting involved with someone when you can't be touched? None of them catch my eye anyway. They are all the same to me.

I jump up as the door to the office opens and my parents are walking out. They are saying their goodbyes to the principle and turn to glare at me.

"Christian," The principle starts "you will be suspended for the rest of this week. You need to change your attitude and perhaps make an appointment with the schools councilor."

"I will make sure my son will do that." My dad uses his lawyer-voice.

I give them a nod to appease them, but I'm pretty sure I will not be going.

"Son, we will talk about your punishment when we get home." My mom whispers harshly into my ear. I give her another nod and shuffle out into the hallway.

The drive home is in complete silence, my dad glances in the rearview mirror multiple times and mom turns around a lot. Their disapproving looks are getting on my nerves and I fidget a lot on the backseat.

As we come to a standstill in front of our home, I know there is no escaping it this time and I know that I somewhat deserve it. It's not that guy's problem that he doesn't know I don't like to be touched. We had PE and were playing volleyball. The boy accidentally bumped into me, trying to get the ball over the net and I lost my shit. I beat the crap out of him and everyone who tried to stop me.

"Christian," my dad starts as soon as we sit at the kitchen table. "your mother and I have discussed what your punishment will be. The Lincoln's have rubble in their garden that needs to be taken care of and you are the one who will be doing the work."

I open my mouth to say something, but mom holds her hand up to stop me.

"Dear, you will do this. Linc and Elena have offered this to us and I think it will be good for you. I have made an appointment with a therapist on Thursday for you." Mom tells me. "You start this afternoon and I'll take you to their house after lunch."

I nod my consent, because there isn't anything else I can do. Our lunch is eaten in silence, I get scathing looks from dad every now and then. I keep my eyes on my plate for most of the time and unfortunately it's all gone way too soon.

Mr. Lincoln is coming out of the house as we approach in the car and stands in front with his arms crossed over his chest. Mrs. Lincoln is right behind him. A look is crossing over her face and I don't like that particular look. I know she's my mom's best friend, but she gives me the creeps.

"Hello Christian." Mr. Lincoln greets me and I nod once again. "I'll show you what to do and where to take it."

I turn towards Grace, but she has her back to me and is talking to Mrs. Lincoln, who is giving me a creepy once-over. I internally shudder at the sight and haste myself after her husband.

The back yard is a mess. Rocks are strewn everywhere and it looks like it will take ages to clear it all up.

"I want you to start with removing the rocks from the backyard." Mr. Lincoln says. "In the shed is a wheelbarrow and gloves. Next to the garage is a container where you can dump the rocks."

I look around to find the shed in the far corner of the yard and I spy the large container next to the garage. It should be easy enough.

"I'll leave you to it. Your mother will be back at five pm. I have to leave for a business meeting. If you need anything, you can ask my wife." Mr. Lincoln explains and makes his way back to the front of the house.

I started here on Monday, today it's Friday and the yard is almost cleared of all the rubble. The sun is shining and it's hot. I'm a sweaty mess, taking off my shirt to wipe myself off. Behind me a door opens and I hear heals clicking on the tiles along the swimming pool.

"Christian!" The nails-on-a-chalkboard voice of Mrs. Lincoln calls behind me. I turn around to see her standing there with a short robe slightly open, giving me a view of her bathing suit underneath it. "I've brought you some refreshments."

"It's about fucking time!" I growl, doing my best not to barf at the sight of her. A strange glint flits through her eyes and before I know it my head snaps to the side, because she slapped me really hard in the face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You need some manners!" She makes to slap me again, but my hand comes up and grabs her wrist.

She uses the momentum to crash her lips on mine and tries to push her tongue into my mouth. I don't even think, I push her away hard. My stomach wants to lose its contents and I wipe my hands furiously over my mouth to rid myself of the violation. I take my shirt and run the fuck out of there.

I hear Mrs. Lincoln screeching behind me, but I don't pay any attention to it. I just want to get out of there. I'm three streets away from the Lincoln home, out of breath I take out my cell-phone and dial my mother's number.

"Christian?" I hear Grace's voice and I sigh with relief.

"Mom, can you come and pick me up?" I gasp out.

"It's only two o'clock, dear. You still have three hours left." She tells me.

"Please, come and pick me up. I have to talk to you about something." I say and tell her where I'm standing. I hear the confusion and worry in her voice.

I only have to wait for ten minutes, before she pulls up in front of me. I get into the car quickly, my leg is bouncing with the nerves that stand on end in my body. I still feel nauseous about what has transpired.

As we step out of the car at home, my mother's phone rings and I just know that vile woman is on the other end.

"Elena?" Grace begins. "Slow down! Yes, I just picked up Christian." She's listening to whatever Mrs. Lincoln is telling her. "I will call you later, Elena. I have to have a word with my son."

I look at as she starts for the front door. My shoulders slump as I follow her and I hope that I get the chance to tell her the truth and that it isn't ruined by Mrs. Lincoln.

"Christian! Elena just told me that you assaulted her." Mom has her hands on her hips and is glaring at me.

"That's not entirely what happened, mom!" I say heatedly.

"Can you tell me what happened then?"

"Mrs. Lincoln came outside this afternoon with a glass of lemonade. She was wearing some skimpy bathing suit and a short robe loosely over it. I told her that it was about time and she slapped me hard enough to turn my head the other way." I see my mother's face morph into disgust.

"What else?" She asks hoarsely and I'm ashamed that I have to hurt her trust in her best friend.

"I asked her what she was doing and she made to hit me again. I grabbed her wrist before she could do that and she took advantage of the momentum and tried to kiss me. I pushed her away roughly and I got the hell out of there. That's why I was three streets down and out of breath when I called you." I say "I felt and still feel sick to my stomach about it."

I can see that Grace is holding herself back as not to hug me. Tears are trickling down her face and I reach out gently to wipe them away. I wish nothing but being able to hug her to me right now. She's my saving grace, my angel and she deserves as much.

"I'm sorry, mom." I whisper.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, dear. I can't believe that filthy whore!" Mom seethes and I gape at her. She never curses and she doesn't take it from anyone else. "I will talk to your father and you will not be returning there. Go take a shower and relax. Everything will turn out alright."

I walk up the stairs, taking it two at a time and hurry towards my safe haven. I lock the door behind me, make my way into the bathroom and divest my clothes, throwing them into the hamper. Turning on the shower to rid myself of the grime and the stench of that bitch troll. I gag as I can still smell her perfume.

I think back to yesterday afternoon and my appointment with one John Flynn.

My leg is bouncing as I wait for being called into the room of the therapist my mom has arranged. I wonder if this one will be able to help me. I've gone through several since the age of four. As soon as I got adopted by the Grey's, they wanted me in therapy. I know they did it because I was a traumatized little boy.

The abuse I had done to me was horrific, cigarettes being push out on my body and being beaten a lot. Now I have to talk about it once again. Although I always kept my mouth shut with the others. I'm certain this time it will be the same.

"Christian Grey?" I hear someone call me and as I look up I see a young man standing in the doorway.

"Yes?" I say.

"You can come in." The man steps back and motions for me to enter his office. As I make my way over to the door he holds out his hand and I take it. "I'm John Flynn, but you may call me Flynn and I will be your therapist."

"I'm Christian Grey, but you already knew that and you can call me Christian." I tell him.

Flynn points to the couch, for me to sit on and takes a seat in a chair opposite of the couch. He has a notepad and a pen at the ready. The only thing that goes through my mind at this moment is that I don't want to be here. My gaze wanders to the door several times and Flynn waits patiently for me to settle down.

"Where would you like to start?" Flynn asks me and I gape at him. None of the therapists I've had asked me that question. "Or would you like it if I tell you some things about myself first?"

I can only nod as I'm too flabbergasted by that offer.

"As I've introduced myself already that will not be necessary. I'm 25 years old, I graduated last year and I'm getting married this fall." He tells me.

"I'm 15 and I'm adopted by Carrick and Grace Trevelyan-Grey when I was four." I blurt out without thinking. "My mother was a crack-whore and her pimp beat me and used me as an ashtray."

"I've heard from your mother that you get into fights a lot. Why is that?" Flynn seems unfazed by what I just told him.

"I can't stand to be touched. Especially on my chest and back. That's where he burned me. The only person who can hug me is Mia, my little sister. Even then it takes all my strength to not throw her off of me." I don't know what it is about this man, but I'm spilling my guts here. "My last fight was because at PE some guy accidentally bumped into my back and I lost it. Several people tried to break it up, but I was zoned out completely."

We talk about it some more and I'm impressed and scared at the same time that he has gotten me to talk so quickly.

"Unfortunately our hour is up. Would you like to make a new appointment?" Flynn asks gently.

"Yes!" I say enthusiastically.

"Next week, same time? Will that be alright?" He smiles at me as I nod my head. "I'll see you next week."

As I leave his office my mom is waiting for me outside. She looks intently at me, trying to figure out if it went alright I think. On the way back home I tell her that I liked him and that I will be seeing him next week.

Grace has some tears falling out of her eyes, I ask about it and she tells me they are happy tears. I shrug and my thoughts wander towards this past afternoon.

I finally feel clean and I turn off the shower to dry myself and put on some clean clothes. I stay up in my room until I'm called for dinner.

"Hey Christian!" Mia comes bouncing towards me in her own special way to hug me.

"Hey Mimi!" I give her a kiss on top of her head and together we walk to the dining-room.

Dad tells me he wants to talk to me after dinner and I see the looks pass between my parents. I wonder what they have talked about, but I'm sure I will find out soon enough.

Since Elliot is off to college, the house is somewhat quieter. We all miss him dearly, but he will be here next weekend. He calls regularly and when he talks to me, he's always going on about some random girl he fucked. I don't want to know anything about his conquests. I think I will die as a virgin. I can't be touched and I know that Elliot tells me to fuck them from behind, but I also know I'm not ready for it.

Sure, I get a hard on. I am a teenaged boy and I jerk off a lot, but to have actual sex randomly like Elliot. Nope, not going to go there.

I stand before my dad's home office, knocking on the door and waiting for him to tell me to enter. I fidget with my fingers, trying to calm myself down and prepare me for another talk.

"Enter." I finally hear and make my way inside. "Christian, I spoke with your mother this afternoon and we are appalled by the behavior of Elena. Can you tell me what happened? I want to document all of it and start a lawsuit against her."

I pace in front of his desk as I rehash everything once again. Carrick is listening intently and recording it all. I know he does this with all his cases, so he can build it as strong as possible. I come to the conclusion fast and shivers run down my spine once again.

"I know this was difficult to tell again and I want to thank you for telling it to me. I'm going to put a team together and turn every stone concerning her. Are you willing to testify if it comes to that?" Dad asks.

"I think so. Are you sure this testimony isn't enough?" I ask in return.

"It depends on the evidence we gather, but there is a slight chance that you have to speak up in court. In cases like this it is very important to hear from the victims. In your case and intended victim. You did well, son." He glows with a pride I've rarely seen and it perks me up to know I did something right.

"If that is all, I would like to go to my room and try to get some sleep." I say quietly.

"Of course. Try to get some shut eye. I'll see you tomorrow." He nods at me and I make my way back to my room.

Sleep doesn't come simply, the typical nightmare is torturing me as usual and I wake up screaming. My parents don't come running anymore and I'm fine with that. I just hope I don't wake them up. I make my way downstairs and go to my piano. Playing it sooths me somewhat and it gets my mind off of things that terrorize me. I play different tunes until the sun starts to rise again. I'm tired, but I know I won't get any sleep.