Fifty Shades of Secrets
Chapter Four: Fifty Shades of Interruptions
Anastasia Steele,
The ride back to the resort was uncomfortably long and silent.
Despite being typically driven by the very capable Taylor, Christian drove impeccably, and Scarlet's rental car was extremely luxurious. In theory, this moment should have been fantastic after the whirlwind of a day I'd had. Just three years ago, this situation would have been terrific. I would have even been relaxed.
But I was miserable.
I hadn't slept all day. My head was fuzzy after one too many glasses of champagne, and my feet ached after far too long in ridiculously tall high heels. I missed my son and the comforts of my home. I even missed the clamor of New York City keeping me up at night. My world was shaking beneath me, and I was a nervous wreck as I waited for it to collapse.
I'd built a life for myself in New York City with Theodore, far away from Seattle and Christian Grey. I wanted to take care of my baby boy and give him him the best life possible, and I did it. I'd worked my ass off to get a prominent and well-paying job, sacrificing countless hours of sleep. I lived in a toddler-friendly apartment, and I even hired a nanny who ensured that Theodore had the perfect amount of socialization for his development.
In New York, I blended into a sea of other people with secrets to keep. Everything I worked for had been so secure only a few days ago. And it just took one, stupid, drunk call to bring my house of cards down.
And was any of it worth it?
Was there any reason to hide Theodore other than my pride and embarrassment for going into such a dark post-break-up depression that I forgot to take my birth control pill? I hadn't paid attention in sex ed and didn't realize that I could get pregnant three days after the last time I had sex with Christian. In fact, I was completely oblivious to this fact until I got that positive pregnancy test. I was such an idiot sometimes.
I closed my eyes tight, trying to ward off my thoughts.
The last twenty four hours had been the longest in my life, and I desperately wished that Christian would just floor it and let me go back to my room and sleep. I wanted today to end. I needed time to recoup.
Damn, I wished I could just run away again.
"You look unwell," Christian's voice was just above a whisper, but in the quiet car, it might as well have been a scream.
"I just drank too much, and I'm tired," I murmured, resting my head in my hands. I expected Christian to reprimand me. After all, he had warned me about alcohol this morning, and he'd suggested at the beach that I rest before going to dinner.
Naturally, I hadn't listened.
I never listened to him.
To my surprise, Christian just hushed again, and his driving was more careful as if not trying to jostle me around. I used this to my advantage to try to sleep.
Maybe if he saw how exhausted I was, he would drop all attempts of conversation tonight...
When we pulled up to the hotel, it was surprisingly still. The conversations within were muffled, and one quick glare from Christian muted the attractive valet. The valet took the key from Christian timidly, and before I could get out, Christian was politely opening the door and holding out his hand for me. I begrudgingly took it, and his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. I looked up at Christian and raised a sleepy eyebrow at his tight grasp.
"Anastasia, you're tired," Christian's voice was rather forceful, and he seemed to think that my exhaustion was justification when it certainly wasn't.
"Christian Grey, I am a grown woman who is perfectly capable of walking," I tried to take a step, but as if on cue, I stumbled on my high heels and had to be caught by Christian. He smirked in response and tightened his grip.
Fuck. I avoided his stare and silently cursed my weak ankles.
As he led me to the elevator, I had to admit that his embrace was very comforting. The familiar scent of his cologne was soothing. My heavy head rested on his shoulder, and I instinctively moved my hands away from his chest. I didn't want him to pull away because I touched him…
I couldn't touch him.
In the rush of today, I'd forgotten this very crucial detail about Christian Grey. I was in love with a man who was repulsed by my touch without any explanation, and I had a feeling that understanding his fear of touch would only break my heart further.
"For such a 'capable woman,' you seem pretty comfortable," Christian whispered, unusually playful.
I rolled my eyes and suppressed my smile as we waited for the elevator. Once the elevator arrived and we were securely tucked inside, Christian immediately pressed the button for the eighth floor, and I let out a tired laugh.
"Flirting tip for future reference," I looked up at him, matching his playfulness, "You'd appear less creepy if you asked for the girl's floor before correctly pressing the button."
Christian's warm smile was blinding as he winked at me, and I could have been lost in the pure sexiness of his expression. It was rare to see Christian this happy, and I couldn't help but savor it.
"You think I'm flirting, Miss Steele?" Christian tilted his head innocently, and I blinked.
Who was this, and where the fuck was Fifty Shades of Severity?
"Yes, Mr. Grey. You are definitely flirting," my voice matched his, but I stared at my mercurial man, trying to understand what I'd done to earn Playful Christian.
I'd expected to spend this elevator ride with an annoyed dom who was disappointed in the decisions I'd made today, and instead, I'd been graced by the appearance of the carefree, happy Christian I loved so.
"You look confused, Anastasia," Christian's smile was slowly retreating, and I desperately wanted it back.
"You're so playful. I'm not used to it," I muttered, staring at his lips as they softened into their usual small frown.
Christian stared at me, making me squirm a bit in his grasp. I let out a sigh of relief when the elevator door dinged open, and Christian's attention shifted towards the task of getting me to my hotel room. He stopped two doors before mine and looked at me, the mirth in his grey eyes warming my body.
"Miss Steele, which one?" he motioned to the hallway, and I laughed softly as I pointed at my door.
"Much better, Christian," I nodded my head in approval, getting the key out of the small black purse Scarlet forced me to carry, and Christian released me to open the door.
I smiled at the sight of my bed, and I nearly collapsed when I reached it.
Christian had followed me into the room and immediately turned his attention to his blackberry. I'd given up asking for justification of his actions, and I focused my efforts on removing the Heels of Hell from my feet.
I felt like a child as I struggled with the clasp on one of the straps. Yesterday, I was competent enough to walk myself up to my own bed and take off my own damn shoes, but one chance encounter with Christian Grey left me grumbling like a six year old who couldn't tie her own shoe laces. Damn it, I was going to cry.
When Christian was finished with the phone, he watched me with my shoe and was obviously amused, and he slowly took my ankle, undoing each buckle with impressive ease.
"Better?" Christian asked, his voice seductively smooth as his hand rested on my newly freed ankle, and just looking at him made me lose my voice. I nodded my head slowly and sat up in bed, suddenly wishing we were somewhere else. I didn't have the best track record with Christian on beds when I was sober, and being tipsy made it even easier for me to succumb to temptation.
Christian helped me out of the other shoe, briefly massaging the sore pads of my feet, and I twisted my mouth into silence.
I am not going to moan. I am not going to moan, I repeated mentally.
"Would you like some tea?" Christian whispered comfortingly, obviously not nearly as hot and bothered as me.
I must have looked pathetic… After all, I did feel pretty damn pathetic.
"Chamomile, please," I murmured, wiping at my eyes, and Christian stood, leaving me on the bed to watch him. It took time for Christian to make the tea, and I used these precious moments of peace to compare Christian to our child, Theodore.
They had the same copper hair and strong jaw, and their angular noses were strikingly similar. I tried to imagine Christian as a two year old, but it was so hard. No matter much I tried, I couldn't imagine Christian Grey as an innocent, happy two year old running around in monkey pajamas like my baby boy at home, and I suddenly realized that Christian probably couldn't either. He'd lived that part of his life with the "Crack Whore."
All at once, I felt extreme sympathy and sorrow as I imagined a face so similar to that of my precious Theodore living in that hell.
"What were you and Katherine discussing?" Christian inquired as he carefully held out the cup of tea for me, and I swallowed hard.
"A little bit of everything," I murmured, "Her wedding mostly. She wants me to be a bridesmaid," I hoped that this answer would satisfy Christian. Of course, it didn't, so I hesitantly added, "She wanted to know more about why I left Seattle."
"It seems to be a popular question," Christian took a seat at the edge of my bed, and his intimidating grey eyes bore into mine as if imploring me to confess everything I'd hidden. And it was actually pretty damn effective.
"Why are you even asking me? Knowing you, you have someone looking into every aspect of my life," I grumbled.
Christian didn't even blink, "I called him after I picked you up at the bar. He's still compiling a report for me," his voice was professional and cold, and I nearly dropped the tea into my lap.
Of course he was going to find out. Who the hell was I kidding? He probably already knew.
And I didn't want him to learn about our child in some long report detailing my current address, place of employment, and marital status. He deserved to be told. He deserved the entire story, every last pathetic and embarrassing bit of it. And alas, I was the only one who could give that to him.
Fuck, I wanted to go to sleep right now, not explain the last three years of my life.
"I think we both know that it would be better if you told me," Christian added, and I nodded slowly in agreement, staring at the steam rising from my teacup.
"I don't know where to start…" I muttered, avoiding his intense gaze.
"Begin with why you left Seattle. I'm sure it'll come to you from there," Christian's voice slowly seemed to be growing in some unknown emotion, and I couldn't tell how much he already knew. Surely, he had hired someone to research me before. He must have known about Theodore.
I wished he did. It would have been so much easier to justify my actions afterwards than to explain them from the beginning.
"I didn't handle leaving you well," I admitted slowly, "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. Even music made me horribly depressed. So, when I started working at SIP, I thought it was a great distraction. I got to work early and left late."
My lower lip was already trembling. I rarely thought of SIP, and I did my best to block Jack Hyde out of my memory. That sick son of a bitch.
"You didn't eat?" Christian interrupted me, and I frowned. I shouldn't have mentioned that.
"I did eventually…" I chewed on my lower lip.
"Anastasia," Christian began, clearly angry, and I stopped him.
"You didn't let me finish," I tried.
Christian's jaw tightened, and he was obviously pissed. But he straightened his spine and motioned for me to continue. I took a deep breath as I considered how to tell him about Jack Hyde. After three years, I still hadn't truly processed him and what happened that night at SIP.
"I think my boss interpreted my unusually dedicated schedule as…. I'm not entirely sure what he thought," I frowned, squirming uncomfortably, "Jack Hyde always made me uncomfortable. He just hovered and asked such personal questions. I knew there was something wrong, I really did. But I just ignored it…
"The night before José's show, I stayed later than usual. I didn't even realize it was only us, but Jack did," I shut my eyes tight, "He followed me to the break room and… lunged at me. It was just this awful blur, and I didn't think it through. I.. I broke the asshole's nose and bruised just about everywhere else," I emphasized every word, raking my fingers through my carefully styled hair.
Christian's expression softened, and his lips parted as if trying to find the right words. He must not have because he just murmured, "Anastasia," and pulled me into his protective embrace tighter than ever before, and I cried into his muscular shoulder.
I didn't deserve this sympathy, and I'm sure that, if he knew the rest of the story, he wouldn't have hugged me. He would have killed me.
I savored the warmth of his kindness as if it was the last time I would receive it, and in all honesty, it could have been. He would never forgive me for this. Hell, I wouldn't forgive me either. The thought of losing this Christian- truly and irrevocably losing the man that I loved- just made me sob even harder.
It took all of my strength and resolve to whisper, "There's a lot more, Christian."
Christian slowly moved away from me just enough that he could look into my eyes, and I instantly lost all of my nerve. As I sat there silently, Christian's fingers ran through my hair, and I had to close my eyes to finally form words.
"I didn't want to be alone after what happened with Jack, and I didn't have anyone in Seattle. So, I called my dad," I bit my lower lip, "I was going to come back when Kate got home, but… I was just so miserable in Seattle. It was nice being home, and I could just avoid all of my problems there-" I was cut off by the shrill chirp of my cell phone, and I grimaced.
That was a perfect mood killer.
I pulled away from Christian just enough to lunge for my purse and ignore the call without looking at the caller ID, and I tossed my phone on a nearby pillow to focus again on Christian.
"Well, I-" I began, but the call quickly returned.
Are you fucking serious?
With an apologetic smile, I snatched the source of my annoyance and glared at the contact name on my smartphone's screen.
Why would my assistant be calling me now? I'd given Curtis this week off and had specifically instructed him to relax and forget about work, and forgetting about work specifically entailed not calling the boss at eleven pm.
I angrily accepted the call and got off of the bed where I whisper-barked into the phone, "This better be important, Curtis."
Immediately, frantic mumbling came through the receiver, and I struggled to decipher his incoherence words.
"What? Curtis, I can't under-" I spoke a bit louder, earning Christian's stare.
"It's Essie. I was helping her tonight with Theo and Wini. I-I went to get Happy Meals, and when I came back," Curtis trailed off, obviously upset, and my stomach dropped.
No, not my baby Theo. Not my precious baby Theo.
Instantly, my focus shifted. My son needed me, and I was thousands of miles away on vacation talking to his father about something I should have years ago. What if something was wrong? Could he be hurt? Oh God, what if something life threatening has happened? I should have put up more child locks...
Anxiety consumed me as I waited impatiently for Curtis to say something -anything. Finally, I couldn't handle it anymore and said, "Are they okay? Curtis, what the fuck happened?" I struggled to hush my voice.
"I think so. The kids are at least. I don't know. Nobody will even tell me what happened. I can't go in because I'm not family, and they won't give me the kids because I'm not their father. I-I think Essie fell or something. Christ, do you think she's okay? Steele, what do I do?" Curtis nearly cried, and I could practically sense him pacing the floor.
Shit. Fuck, I mentally named off every curse word I had ever heard in my entire life, and my eyes watered with sheer panic.
This was the one vacation I had really taken. I was only going to be gone for a week, and I'd left my very capable nanny, Essie, with my child. Nothing was supposed to go wrong, yet everything did.
"I'm coming home, okay? I'll be in New York as soon as possible, I promise," I tried to calm us both, but this decision only made me more uncomfortable. At the minimum, I would have a flight scheduled for tomorrow morning, and even then, I would most likely face frequent layovers. At the earliest, I would arrive at the hospital tomorrow afternoon.
"How long do you think that will be?" Curtis implored, and I frowned.
"Probably tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. I'd need to find a last minute flight, and-" I was cut off by Christian's voice, and I jumped.
After hearing about Essie and the children, I'd completely forgotten about his presence.
Shit, had I said something incriminating? No, I was sure I hadn't.
"The Grey Jet is here. We can leave now," Christian offered, and my heart lept.
His jet. He had a jet. How the hell could I have forgotten that?
"You'd do that for me?" I murmured, completely oblivious to Curtis on the other line.
"Of course, Anastasia," Christian nodded to me, and if it was even possible, I loved him more in that moment than I ever had.
So, Christian and Ana are going to New York, and she's trying to tell him about Theo! Where do you think it'll go from here? Please review and follow this story!
So much happened in this chapter, and I think it answered a lot of questions. Now, you can understand more of how this is an AU of Fifty Shades Darker because all of the changes can be traced back to Jack Hyde's attack being earlier in this story than it was in the actual book series. If you want a better explanation, go to my profile where I have a link to a blog post explaining it.
If you do have any more questions, leave a review, and I'll explain it more in the rest of the story or shoot you a PM! Thanks!