Maybe Flynn is a charlatan, I mutter to myself as I jog away from his office and head towards Escala. Back to the hell that I am currently living. I have to laugh thinking of Ana's snarky assessment of the good doctor. It's the first laugh I've had in days and of course it belongs to her. Another first, Miss Steele. I smile. God, I miss her smart mouth. I miss it on mine. What I wouldn't give to bite that lip.

"I've fallen in love with you..." Her words still haunt. It's the best and worst thing I've ever heard.

She can't love me. It's wrong. But, she says she does and now I've been formally diagnosed with the same affliction.

I run.

"I will never leave you..." She promised as I lay watching her sleep. But, still she left and I am utterly broken. I would move heaven and earth to not feel that pain again. I don't think I could survive it.

I run faster.

"Are you willing to give up the lifestyle? The punishments? Being the dominant if that's what she needs?" Flynn's questions linger.

The sky darkens above me. Another storm brewing. I know better than to stay out when the clouds turn, but all my long measured reasoning fails me as I find myself running off course and toward Pike Place. Toward Ana. As I round the bend, I jog slowly down her street, so as not to miss anything. So slowly, I'm bested by an old lady and a cotton ball posing as a dog.

I just want to pass by her apartment once. Okay, maybe twice or if need be ten times. However many times it takes to see that she's safe and okay and not with the photographer. Who knows, maybe I'll run into her. She'll yell at me. We'll have a good fight that will get me so hard and her so wet I'll have to carry her back to her apartment over my shoulder, throw her on the bed and fuck her till she screams my name in sweet release. There is no better sound then when she comes with my name wrapped around her tongue. Only for me.

I stop running when I reach her place. Her windows are dark. Shades down. I know I'm being a stalker, but I also know she would expect nothing less from me. Dark windows could mean so many things, none of which I like. Is she asleep? If she is it probably means she hasn't eaten, which makes my palm twitch. Is she sadly sitting in darkness like I've been doing? I hate that I've brought her pain. Or maybe she's not in pain at all. Maybe she's out! Galavanting! Fraternizing with men! Drinking! Throwing up in bushes with no one to hold her hair. Fear of her safety consumes me.

I look for her parking spot. I know which one it is, because I know. Empty. Either she hasn't used the money I gave her to buy a new one or she's out driving God knows where in the rain. Probably in some second or fourth hand jalopy that the photographer's mother's mother's mother owned, putting herself at risk. Christ, what if the photographer is driving her around himself, groping her and trying to have his way with her and I'm not there to stop him from claiming what's mine?! I run my fingers through my hair, pulling in frustration.

"Fuck!"

"Are you all right?" The old woman with the Pom Pom dog asks as she passes me again. I'm snapped back in reality as the dog barks incessantly at me. I look at her for a long, hard moment.

"No."

She eyes me warily as she makes her way quickly up the walk and into her apartment. I think I hear her deadbolt lock.

The sky has opened up and it's starting to pour, but I don't move. My eyes stay fixed on Ana's darkened window and her empty parking spot as the water moves to drown me. Without a doubt I know I will take her any way she'll let me have her. I can't live without her, because I never lived before her.

"Mr. Grey, you're soaking wet," Mrs. Jones says, rushing to greet me as I make my way from the elevator. I say nothing as I drench the entry way. "I was getting worried. Are you okay? Do you need a towel?"

I stand there for a moment saying nothing. Doing nothing. Just remembering how Ana looked that last time I saw her crossing this very spot. Leaving me.

"Why don't you have a shower and I'll warm your dinner." She watches me. She probably thinks I've lost my mind. I'm sure she's right.

"No. I'm not hungry."

"You've hardly been eating." She sounds worried. Such a mother hen.

"I'm not hungry, I said." Now, I sound like Ana. God, I hope she's eating.

She watches me as I drag myself up the stairs. Sloshing on each step, my Nikes squeak on the freshly polished floors. I'm sure it bothers her that I'm dripping all over, but fuck it. It's my damn place. I make my way up to the submissive bedroom. Oddly, the very room I wanted to keep Ana locked away from me in is where I go to feel close to her. I am horrified when I turn the knob and witness the scene in front of me.

"Mrs. Jones!" I yell at the top of my lungs. "Mrs. Jones! What the hell-"

The room has been cleaned. The closet bared. Ana's hairbrush! It's gone from the vanity. The bedding changed. Everything's been vacuumed and scrubbed and emptied of any evidence that Ana was ever here.

"What's the matter, Mr. Grey?!" She says, running in. "Is something wrong?"

"What the hell did you do in here?!" I peel the bedspread back and smell the sheets. Her scent dead and buried under some floral fresh nightmare.

"I cleaned."

"Did I say you could do that?!"

"It's my job."

I move to the closet. Lines of empty hangers stare back at me. Shoe racks barren.

"You did more than clean! Where are her clothes?"

"I packed them away. I thought you would want me to."

"Why the hell would I want that?!"

"It's what you've always told me to do."

Of course. Each time a sub leaves she's been give direct orders to clear out the room and not bother me with the details. Erase the former's existence until a new one takes her place.

"She's not one of them. She never was." I sit on the bed and drop my head into my hands.

"I'm sorry, sir."

I know she's not just apologizing for the cleaned room. I look up. I've upset her. She's been through so much lately with the Leila situation and all.

"No, I'm sorry. I know you were just doing you job."

She looks surprised by my apology. I guess I don't apologize much.

I stand up, still dripping with the afternoon.

"Please put everything back the way it was," I say as a directive to her and a subtle plea to whoever in the heavens might be listening.

Freshly showered, I sit on the bed opening and closing the signature Cartier box that holds the diamond earrings I was going to give her last Saturday for the gala. She would've been my first real date. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. The repetitive action is almost meditative. Should I send these to her? Write her a note asking for a second chance? Second chance earrings, I smile. No, she'd never accept them. Not right now. One thing about Ana is that she does not love me for my money. She loves me... She loves me. The thought still pains me.

Her laptop and blackberry are sitting on the dresser. Mrs. Jones must have brought them up with the rest of her things. I walk over and pick up the blackberry. It's dead. I decide I should charge it, hoping that she might need it again. I plug it into the wall and leave it on the nightstand. After a few minutes it lights up. I notice her background picture is of me. She took it in Georgia in front of the glider. I close my eyes, remembering. And for the second night in a row, I weep.

"Ana, don't go! I won't hurt you!"

I run, chasing after her into a long, dim tunnel. She screams.

"Let me go! You're a monster!"

"Ana please, I love you. I will never hurt you again!"

I reach to grab her shoulder. She turns and suddenly the belt is in my hand. I don't know how it got there, but as hard as I try I can't let it go.

She takes off fast toward the light.

Suddenly, I see a small child. A dirty copper haired boy that looks just like me. He's crying. Burns all over his chest. She scoops him up, cradling him. Hushing his cries.

"I won't let you hurt him, either!"

She runs with him in her arms. Protecting him from me as he bawls. I try to reach for them, but I trip and fall into a mire of thick mud. I can't move. I watch, powerless, as they reach the light and disappear. Everything goes black...

"Ana!" I scream out, waking in a cold sweat just ahead of the sun. I'm sprawled out on the bed, still wearing a damp towel and nothing else. I realize it's Monday and I have to face a new week in the very place her beautiful blue eyes first looked into mine.

"Work!" I jump up, remembering it's her first day at SIP. I panic. How will she get there? Will she be safe? Fuck, that bastard Jack Hyde is her boss. He better not try anything! I feel powerless and that's not a feeling I'm well acquainted with.

I pick up my phone and dial.

"Taylor. Did you find out if Miss Steele cashed the check?"

"No, sir she hasn't."

Fuck. I hope she's not being headstrong about accepting the money. What am I thinking, of course she is. Well, that means she definitely doesn't have a car yet. How is she getting around? Dark thoughts swim in my psyche.

"Taylor. I want you to follow Miss Steele to work. Discretely. Just make sure she gets there safely and report back immediately.

"Yes, sir."

"Any news on Leila?"

"No sir."

I hang up. Fuck! What the hell is she doing out there?! I'm worried about her well being, but I can't think of Leila right now. All my thoughts are consumed with Anastasia. It's her first day of work and it should be properly congratulated. So, I decide to give the girl who wanted hearts and flowers just that.