A/N: Hello Lovelies! Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter. I'm really glad you enjoyed it. I don't write a lot of saucy scenes because I don't think I'm particularly good at them, so it's wonderful to see so many of you liked it. :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. For those of you who have been asking about José, you're going to find out a little about his condition in this chapter.

More coming soon!

Much Love,

Chelsea x


DoloresDeeHowe - Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. I love that side of Christian. I love the overprotective, affectionate part of him. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

Susan - Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :) I really hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

SuzB - Thank you! Well, I think Elliot and Grace want Christian to propose... I'm not sure if the man himself is quite ready for that, we'll have to wait and see! ;) Hope you like this chapter! Much Love x


I woke at the crack of dawn, a grin plastered across my face and my skin still flushed from last night. I let out a gentle sigh and rolled onto my back, opening my eyes to look beside me. I ran my hand across the crumpled sheets and found the empty space warm, only recently vacated.

Tumbling out of bed, I pulled on my cotton robe and went in search of Christian. With the bathroom clear, I tiptoed across the apartment and headed for the kitchen, following the scent of percolating coffee. It was only just starting to get light outside, a warm glow slowly seeping through the windows, the sun kissing the furniture with its red and pink hues.

Christian was alone, sat with his back to me at the breakfast bar, today's newspaper open in front of him. I admired him for a moment: the way his shirt strained as he brought his fork to his mouth, the way his ears lifted as he chewed.

"Morning," I mumbled as I stepped forward and smoothed my hands up his back.

He turned his head towards me and swallowed, a hint of a smile working its way across his lips.

"Good morning," he replied. He pushed the paper aside and twisted on his stool to face me, quickly catching me in his arms. "What are you doing awake at this time? You should still be asleep."

I looked down at his watch and saw it wasn't even 6am yet.

"Better question, why are you awake at this time?" I asked him.

"I'm meeting with Ros before she flies to Berlin in a few hours," he explained. "She's going to check out some companies I could potentially invest in. I need to give her some updated paperwork before she leaves."

"Oh, right." I pouted my lips. "So you have to leave soon then?"

"In a couple minutes," he nodded. "Why?"

I eased forward and filled the gap between his knees, resting my palms on his thighs.

"Well, I was kind of hoping we could pick up where we left off last night," I hummed, teasing my tongue across my lips.

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" he smirked.

I lifted his hands from my hips and brought them to the belt of my robe. I guided him, hooking the tie through his fingers and urging him to pull it apart. I could already feel goosebumps starting to prickle my skin, my nipples hardening and eager for his fingers and lips.

"Ana…"

He leaned forward and kissed me chastely, without any haste or urgency. His hands slipped out from under my own and tugged the belt. Tightening and securing it around my waist.

My hopes dropped in an instant.

"I wish I had time," he whispered, his breath tickling my lips and smelling of coffee and blueberry pancakes.

"Be quick," I shot back.

"If I take you back to bed, I won't be able to leave again," he shook his head.

"So just do it here then," I said. "Put me on the counter, bend me over it –"

He laughed under his breath and stared back at me. I could tell in his eyes that it was moot point. He wasn't going to change his mind, even if the bulge in his pants was urging him to take me up on the offer.

"You'll have me all to yourself tonight," he promised. "My undivided attention."

"It's not your attention I'm interested in right this second," I hummed, my eyes shifting to his crotch.

"I've created a monster," he chuckled. He kissed me again and pushed away from the counter, stepping down from his stool. He picked up his jacket and slung it over his arm, before lifting the stack of papers next to his plate. "I really have to go. I'm sorry, baby."

"Promise me you'll make it up to me later?"

"I promise," he nodded, fixing me with his stare. "I'll make sure to give you all my best moves," he winked. I couldn't help but giggle. "That's what I like to hear… What time are you due in work?"

"Mark said anytime after lunch, so about 1pm I think," I shrugged. "I don't know what I'll do this morning though."

"Grande will arrive soon," he reminded me, refusing to call Jaz by her preferred moniker. "You could always go grab some breakfast with her, maybe do some shopping?"

I grimaced. It's not that I didn't like Jaz but I didn't enjoy shopping at the best of times, and it's not as if I can ask for her opinion on which underwear to buy or what dress will make me look sexy. She's still an employee, after all.

"Call me if you need anything," Christian said, oblivious to my unenthusiastic response to his suggestion. "I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

I nodded and offered my lips to him for another kiss. He gladly accepted, moaning quietly as he embraced me.

He peeled himself away and stalked across the apartment, heading straight for the elevators and disappearing as soon as the doors opened. The apartment was flooded with silence when he left and I crossed my arms around myself, a sudden chill working its way through me.


When Christian returned to work full-time after the fire at Maîtrise, and Mia and Kate stopped coming over so frequently, I had discovered something new about myself: I didn't cope well when I was left on my own.

Loneliness meant silence and silence allowed my mind to wander.

Familiar faces often crept back into my thoughts – some welcome, others not so.

I would often think about Cal and send him a text, relieved when he was his usual snappy self with me. I would think about Leila and feel an impending doom as I relived the moment she was engulfed by flames.

The bitch troll would usually find a way of making a reappearance, but only ever for a brief second. I had developed a way to shut her out. I blocked out her name. I refused to say it, think it, as if that alone could save me. Most of the time it worked. I had stopped seeing her face a while ago, but her voice was harder to shift.

But it wasn't her that was plaguing me today. It was her latest victim that tormented me. The victim she kept prisoner in her dungeon, the man she drugged and tortured, the man she branded with my name and tried to frame for my murder, had she succeeded with her plans.

José was in a coma for eight days after the fire. He woke on his own accord, the doctors surprised and relieved when he opened his eyes for the first time. They had kept him unconscious in a bid to fully assess his condition, as well as to give his body the best chance to recover. His injuries had been substantial. Life-changing. That's what they said. He was severely malnourished and his body was in shock, withdrawing from the heroin she pumped into his veins. His legs were badly burnt, his hands caked in blisters. Taylor had bravely tried to rescue him, like he had with the others, but the flames were too aggressive by that point. The ceiling had begun to collapse, leaving José trapped until the fire department were able to find him.

Just a couple minutes more and he'd be a goner. I overheard someone say that in the hospital.

He was barely alive when he was taken to hospital, his skin turning to charcoal and his lungs full of smoke. But he pulled through. He was fighting. He wasn't letting her win.

However, I had only heard this information through other people.

Christian was able to keep tabs on José's progress through the staff at the rehabilitation centre he had been taken to shortly after he woke up. Christian was paying for his treatment, ensuring he got the best help available – both physical and emotional. Ray was still close to José's father and was able to glean information that way. I had spoken to José senior once but he seemed distant and unwilling to talk, so I gave him space and decided to wait to speak to José himself.

But none of us were allowed to see him. It was strictly family, no visitors.

That didn't stop my perseverance though. I had tried calling but his phone was missing. I tried writing letters for the staff to pass onto him, but they were returned unopened. I'd tried visiting him and had so far been unsuccessful in convincing the nurses to let me into his room. I had visited The Willow Therapy Centre several times.

Today included.

I was sat in the back of the SUV, behind Sawyer who was at the wheel. He had parked the car outside the front of the centre, the state-of-the-art building a mix of steel, glass and white marble. I stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Sawyer or Jaz's eyes in the rear-view mirror. They had both protested when I asked them to drive me here. They knew what would happen – the inevitable rejection, to be later followed by disappointment and upset.

But what if today is the day? What if today José tells the nurses to let me in, that he's ready to see me? It's worth the risk, surely?

"What time are you supposed to be at work?" Jaz asked, turning to face me from her seat up front. Her voice was urgent and marked with concern, her dark eyes glancing at her watch. We had been sat here for over fifteen minutes already. I was still plucking up the courage to move.

"One," I replied.

Sawyer cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He slowly turned to face me, his deep blue gaze soft and considerate. He understood why I was here - he got it.

"You don't have to go inside," he told me. "We can come back another day."

"No, we're here now," I shook my head. "We haven't driven all this way just to turn back. I'll get out in a second."

"Miss Steele –"

"There's a chance I'll get to see him today," I interrupted Sawyer. "I have to see him. I need to talk to him about what happened."

I need to apologise

Sawyer nodded and popped open his door, stepping out. I inhaled a deep breath and followed his move. I felt a hardness settle in my stomach as I dragged myself towards the entrance, my eyes fixing on the square paving stones leading the way. The doors slid open as I approached them, revealing the reception area in all its modern, artsy style. They had tried to make the space calm and still, but really it was overwhelming and kind of pretentious.

I headed straight for the round desk in the centre of the room, smiling once to the receptionist who had been here the last time I came. I didn't need any guidance, I knew exactly how to sign in, which label to stick to my blouse. I knew the route to the unit José was in. I knew how many steps it took to get from reception to his room. 47 strides. I had walked these halls too many times, despite never seeing inside José's room. I had only ever sat outside, in the hallway, on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs.

I hadn't admitted to anyone that sometimes I walked this route in my sleep. That I dreamt of sitting in the hallway, waiting for news that never came…

Sawyer and Jaz remained close behind me, their footsteps sounding like my heart as it beat loudly in my ears.

Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum.

I turned the final corner and came to a crashing halt, my feet slamming into the floor. My eyes widened, my jaw falling open.

"W-What…" I fumbled. I slowly shook my head. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

He was stood a few feet away, beside the row of chairs that lined the left wall. His hands were deep inside his pockets, a resigned look on his face.

Christian's eyes were heavy and sympathetic, his lips taut and pressing together into a hard line.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a deep tone.

"You know why I'm here," I replied quietly, the words catching in my throat and sounding strange.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here today."

"I didn't know I was coming here," I shrugged, feeling defensive. "I only decided a little while ago."

"And you didn't think to call me?" he frowned.

"You're meant to be at work," I said. I folded my arms and hugged myself, trying to squeeze my chest and stop the tightness building there. "How did you know I was here?"

"Kate," he hummed her name. I gulped. "She said she'd messaged you about having lunch together. You told her you were busy at work, couldn't leave your desk."

I didn't think she would mention it to Christian. It didn't seem significant. Kate had texted me about an hour ago, shortly before I left the apartment with Jaz and Sawyer. She asked if I wanted to have lunch at the sushi bar opposite SIP. I sent back a quick response saying I was busy. I didn't have time to reveal the truth to her and, honestly, I didn't want to either. Both she and Christian think I'm stupid for coming here as often as I do. They think I'm wasting my time, that I'm putting myself through unnecessary distress.

"It's nice to know the two of you are talking about me when I'm not around," I shot back in a huff. I was being petty but I couldn't stop myself.

Christian shook his head.

"It's not like that and you know it," he whispered. He closed the gap between us and lifted his hands from his pockets. He slid them up and down my arms, his touch sending a shiver through my body. "We care about you. Do you think it's easy for us, watching you put yourself through this week in, week out? Ana, you feel like shit every time you come here."

"But I –"

"It's always the same," he said firmly. "You leave this place feeling like shit and it kills all of us to watch you suffering. I hate seeing you upset."

He rested his hands on my shoulders and stared me in the eye.

"It has to stop," he told me. "You can't keep doing this. You aren't allowed to see him."

"But he might want to see me today," I whispered, shaking my head.

"He won't," he sighed. "I'm sorry, but he won't. Nothing's going to change."

I couldn't accept that. I stepped back and shook my head hard.

"No," I huffed. My voice was starting to gain momentum, echoing through the hall. "No, he has to see me eventually. Sooner or later they will let me see him. When he's feeling better. It'll happen and I need to be here. I need to talk to him."

"Ana –"

"I have to see him!"

He raised his chin and pursed his lips. He wanted to say something but he decided against it, clenching his jaw to stop the words from seeping out.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

Christian spun around and looked down the hall, to the high-pitched voice shouting back at us. I moved out of his shadow and saw a small, dark-haired woman scowling at Christian. Her expression was thunderous.

"Rachel," I breathed out. I stepped forward to align myself with Christian, eyeing up José's cousin.

Rachel Rodriguez was a firecracker of a woman, several inches shorter than me but with a presence far greater. She had José's colouring and eyes, the pair looking more like siblings than cousins. She was four years older than José and had always treated him like a little brother. They were thick as thieves when they were kids.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rachel grunted, her brown eyes still fixed on Christian, refusing to look at me. "Didn't you get my email?"

"I did," Christian replied tersely. I looked up and studied his profile. His guard was back up, his mask firmly in place. "Don't worry, we're leaving."

"What?" I frowned. "No, we're not… What's going on? Rachel?"

I turned my head back to her and caught her staring at me. Her eyes trailed up and down my body, a look passing over her face that resembled disgust.

"Is something wrong with José?" I worried, my lip starting to tremble.

"José?" she snorted. "Oh yeah, he's fine. Well, if you take away the fact he was tortured and almost killed by a fucking monster… Jesus... Imagine living with those scars and you'll realise how stupid that question is. Of course something is wrong with him. He's not here on vacation!"

"Don't raise your voice with her," Christian grunted, taking a step forward. "You've made your point clear. Now go back to your cousin."

"Not until all of you have left," Rachel shook her head. "You're not welcome here."

"I know the nurses won't let us see him just yet. But I know someday he'll be up to visitors. That's why I'm here," I mumbled.

Rachel snorted again and shook her head. She started to turn her body away from me, as if she couldn't stand to be in my presence any longer.

"Are you delusional or something?" she chided. "You seriously think it's the nurses keeping you from him?"

My frown deepened. I felt Christian move closer to my body, his hand reaching for my waist.

"I don't understand…"

"He doesn't want to see you," Rachel said, sounding out the words slowly. "He doesn't want you here. He doesn't want you anywhere near him."

"Stop it," Christian ordered her.

She scowled at him. "You think you can call the shots, huh? No. Not when it's your girlfriend's fault José's in here."

I stumbled back a step but Christian held me upright.

"I didn't do this…" I shook my head. My shoulders hunched forward as my stomach twisted into knots. "It was –"

"Yeah, yeah, it wasn't you who started the fire, you didn't lock him up or beat him to within an inch of his life," she conceded. "But you led him on for years. You enabled this."

"What? No, I didn't," I shot back. I glanced up at Christian. "I didn't. I never led him on."

His eyes gave me a sympathetic look, telling me I know.

"You let him think he stood a chance," Rachel continued. Like a dog with a bone, she wasn't giving up now she had me in her grasp. "You knew he was in love with you. You could have told him to back off in the beginning, but you didn't. You kept him close. You loved the attention, you fucking lapped it up, and now look what's happened."

"I didn't –"

"You have ruined his life," she shouted.

"I said stop it," Christian snapped. He stood in front of me, blocking her from my view. "You do not get to talk to her like that. None of this is Ana's fault."

"If she hadn't fucked with his head for years, he wouldn't have stuck around her. He wouldn't have been in Seattle. They only went after him because of her." I could hear her breaths, hard and fast. "Don't pretend like she's Miss Innocent. She knows what she did."

"You need to walk away," Christian warned her.

"Or what?" she replied. "What are you going to do about it?"

"You don't want to find out."

"You don't get to come in here and act like the big guy," she huffed. "You're not the one who has to sit with him. You don't watch him breakdown in tears for no reason. You don't hear him screaming in his sleep because he can't get it out of his head. So don't you dare try to tell me what to do!"

I pressed my head into the centre of Christian's back and scrunched up my face. I felt the back of my eyes sting, my throat starting to burn as a sob threatened to burst into life.

"Do all of us a favour and leave," Rachel sighed. "Let José move on with his life. He doesn't need or want any of you."

"I think you're forgetting who has paid for his treatment here," Christian retaliated.

"Yeah, another feeble attempt to make amends for what your girlfriend has put him through? Nice try but you can stick your money."

"You think you can pay to keep him here?"

"We don't have to," Rachel said. "We're taking José home. We're getting him as far away from her as possible. José doesn't want your money and he doesn't want your apologies, so do the right thing and fuck off."

I felt Christian tense up but I was filled with relief as I heard Rachel stomping away, her footsteps growing quieter and then silenced altogether with the sound of a door slamming shut.

"Mr Grey?" Taylor's voice broke through the tension. "Shall we –"

I pushed away from Christian and ran back down the hall, finding my way out of the building.

I ran out into the middle of the parking lot and started pacing, sucking in quick breaths that didn't stop my tears from falling.

"Ana!"

Christian's hands were on me before I could shake him off. I didn't want to be touched. I couldn't stand it. His touch would make me crumble. I didn't want to fall apart.

"Don't push me away," he begged, wrapping his arms around me. His palms were flat on my back, holding me in place. His lips danced against my ear. "Don't listen to her. She's full of shit. She doesn't know what she's saying."

I shook my head and a whimper escaped my lips, bleating into his chest.

"It's my… It's my fault…"

"No, it isn't," he said. "You are not to blame for what happened to José."

"I am," I cried. "He came looking for me… If I had answered his messages…"

"Don't do this to yourself. You didn't do this to him."

"He needed help and I walked away from him," I shook my head. "He was in trouble."

"He crossed a line," Christian protested. "He wanted more than friendship and you didn't. You ignored him because you needed space."

"And look what happened!" I yanked my head back. He was blurry behind my tears. "He didn't deserve this!"

"Elena did this, not you," he tried to remind me. I winced at the sound of her name. "All blame lies with her."

"He wouldn't have got hurt if it wasn't for me," I muttered. "He blames me…"

"It's not your fault. I promise you –"

"I just wanted to see him…"

I broke down.

I sank into Christian's arms, my knees giving out underneath me. He scooped me into his chest, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed no more than a feather.

I screamed from the inside out, a growl building in my chest and hitting a crescendo in my closed mouth.

"None of this is your fault," he said again. "His cousin is a fucking bitch. She's just looking for someone to blame and she's targeting the wrong person."

It crushed me how cold Rachel was. The utter hatred and disgust in her eyes. I had always gotten on well with her, we used to laugh and joke. I was friendly with all of José's family. I had grown up with them in my life.

But now I am the outcast. I am the poison that has torn their family apart.

How can I apologise and try to make this right if I'm not allowed to see José?

How can I help him if he hates me?

How can I get rid of the guilt that is destroying me piece by piece?

I don't want to feel this way anymore.

GET OUT OF ME.

GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT.

Christian started to carry me back towards the SUV.

"Sawyer, we're getting in this car with you. Grande, you take the other SUV. Taylor, you take my car," he ordered. "I'm taking Ana home."

"No…" I grumbled.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm taking you home."

"No," I shook my head and arched away from him. I wriggled until he set me down again. "I can't go home."

"What?"

"I'm going to be late for w-work."

"No," he shook his head. "You are not going to work. I'll call your boss and tell him you're not feeling well."

"I n-need to go to work," I protested, my voice weak and unconvincing.

"Ana –"

"Please," I breathed. I blinked back the last of my tears and stared up at him. "Please, don't take that away from me… I need to go to work."

"I'm not leaving you like this," he said.

"You've got work to do," I shook my head. "You've got meetings."

"I'll cancel them."

"Don't waste your time on me," I urged him. "We both have jobs to do."

"Ana," he stepped forward and brought his hands to my face. He smoothed his thumbs over my sticky, wet cheeks. "Where you are concerned, my time is never wasted. Don't ever think that you come second to my work. You are my priority. You come first. You're my number one."

"Christian…"

"None of this is your fault," he continued. He kept his voice low, so only I could hear him. "I know what you're going through. I understand what you're feeling right now. I get it… We're in this together. Haven't I always promised you that?"

I nodded my head.

"We're on the same side," he whispered. "We can get through this… Let me take you home. Let me take care of you."

"I need to go to work," I shook my head.

My heart was pleading with me to fall into his arms again and remain there, to let him shower me in love and affection. But my head was telling me to shut down, block it out, focus. Distract myself from the pain. From reality. From my life.

"I have to go."

"Fuck work, it doesn't matter. You need –"

"Let me decide what I need," I begged him. "Please. I need this."

Concern passed through his grey eyes. He was thinking it over but I knew he would eventually give up the fight.

"I don't want to leave you, not when you're like this," he sighed, his words heavier than his breath. "Let me come to SIP with you. I'll have Andrea bring over my laptop and I'll work in your office."

I slowly shook my head.

"I know you love me and you want to protect me," I whispered. I sniffed hard and wiped my face with the back of my hand. "But I don't need babying right now. I need to deal with this my way."

"You can't run away and block it out," he told me. "It doesn't work. I should know, I spent years doing it."

I knew he was right but I couldn't bring myself to admit it.

With a long sigh, he bowed his head, resignation slipping over his face.

"If so much as another tear leaves your eyes, you call me," he ordered. "I mean it. You call and I'll be there in minutes."

"Okay…"

I doubt he understood how important it was to me that he gave me this little thing. That he backed down and let me win. I needed a win.

Christian has always been the perfect gentleman. The perfect partner for me. But since Maîtrise, he had been more attentive, more protective, more understanding than ever before.

We had more in common too. Trauma had eaten away at the both of us. But whilst his was years old, mine was new and still painful to touch.

I lifted my head up to his and pressed my tear-soaked lips to his mouth.

"You only have to say the word and I'll come running," he muttered. "You know that, don't you?"

"I do."

He cupped my face and spread light kisses across my mouth and cheeks, as if he could somehow soak up my grief and carry the burden for me.

If only it was that easy.

"I'll pick you up at five," he promised. "I don't care whether you're finished or not. I'm taking you home at five."

It hurt to pull away from him and slip into the back of the SUV, but I knew that I had to. Work was my distraction. It was the one place I could escape to and be Ana Steele. Just a girl with a job.

Not a victim.

Not a pathetic excuse for a person.

Not a monster who almost got her friend killed because she was too scared to tell him from the beginning that she didn't like him that way.

It didn't matter what Christian said. I blamed myself for José. Rachel was right. I had ruined his life.

"Make sure you stay with her -" I heard Christian bark at Jaz as I climbed into the car. "I mean it. Do not leave her side or so help me God, you'll be fired quicker than you can 'I'm sorry'."

"Yes, sir."

I closed the car door behind me and buckled my seatbelt. I sank into my seat like a deflated balloon, weighed down by a huge knot in my stomach and the crushing sensation in my chest. This feeling came in waves, some days it was stronger and heavier than others, but it was always there. The physical pain was gone – my wrists and ankles are no longer shredded from where I was tied up, my head is no longer bruised or battered – but in a way I miss it. The physical pain was easier to cope with. It was overwhelming, it demanded to be felt. I didn't have a choice but to focus on it.

But when the marks faded, that's when the thoughts took over. I can dull them for a short while but I can never switch them off altogether. My soul had been shattered and I didn't know if I would ever feel whole again. I didn't know if a piece of me had died with that bitch in Maîtrise, a piece that I could never get back.