WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is NOT going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor
Chapter 6;
Jason dropped to the floor and began to do his daily press ups and crunches, the Marine Corps having instilled in him the importance of daily physical exercise. It was only six am but Grey was still sound asleep in his pit. Jason had tried to wake him on his way to use the bathroom but he hadn't moved, only grunted and rolled back over into his pillow. He'd decided that he'd try to wake Grey again in half an hour or so and instead finish his work out for the time being. He locked his pull-up bar over the door frame of his room and was doing a few chin ups when Gail Jones walked in.
"…sixty…sixty-one…sixty-two," he called out playfully, the petite woman looking over at him hanging limply with a knowing look; she instantly knew he was bullshitting with his count.
"When I first met you, Mr Taylor, I thought you seemed to be a kind young man. I've since heard that it was you who made little Benny the carpark boy cry," Gail deduced, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Taylor, remember," Jason corrected her, "I'm liable to punch a person's lights out for mister-ing me, irrespective of gender."
"So you're a bully and you're a woman beater?" Gail countered, lifting her gingery blonde eyebrow at him.
"I'm an equalist," Jason rebottled and dropped to his feet, cracking his arms and neck as he walked over to Gail, "And I didn't make Benny cry; I merely told him that he was shit at his job and encouraged him to buck up or fuck off."
"I see," Gail countered as she walked over to the washing machine and sighed.
"Does he do that often?" Jason pressed, nodding at the wet sheets Grey had shoved into the tumble dryer, instead of the washing machine. Typical rich boy, he didn't seem to understand the difference between the two pieces of machinery. When Gail didn't reply, Jason elaborated, "The pissing the bed thing."
Gail stopped momentarily, hesitating before giving her answer, "It has become a more recent occurrence," she said, putting the soiled sheets in the correct machine before turning it on, "He is very respectful about it though; all I ask is that he put them in the washing machine and I will do the rest. He does that. Or at least he thinks he's putting them in the right machine." She chuckled, standing up straight and looking at Jason, "Same goes for you, Taylor. If you have any washing of a…questionable nature…all I ask is that you place it in the right area and give me a heads up."
"Questionable nature?" Jason asked, joining her in the kitchen and leaning against the breakfast bar as he watched her hurry around to get things organised for the day.
"Yes, Taylor. Questionable nature," Gail repeated then chose to elaborate when she saw that Jason had risen an eyebrow, "Mr Grey's brother, Elliot," she began, lowering her voice slightly as she looked towards the boss's room, "stayed with Mr Grey at his old place for a few weeks before his own flat was being refurbished or something; I'm not sure. All I know is I went from having one Grey to care for to having two. Only Elliot Grey was prone to…a lot of overnight guests which resulted in a lot of…questionable crusty white stains on his bedlinen."
"Oh," Jason coughed, scratching his ear as he felt his freckled face burn red with a blush, "Well I can assure you, Mrs Jones, you wont have the problem with me."
"I take it the sex room put you off for life too, huh?" Gail suddenly said and Jason was pretty sure his face went crimson red at this point, choking on his breath.
"Mrs Jones…that would be unprofessional of me to comment on our boss's lifestyle…" he said, then winked playfully, heading over to the sink for a glass of water, "Besides, I've done the marriage thing. I prefer my own company now."
"So there's a Mrs Taylor?" Gail asked.
"There is; after the divorce she wanted to keep the name so it matched our daughter," Jason shrugged, shaking his head when Gail looked at him as though she were searching for more gossip. "She's a lovely woman and all, it just, I don't know. My heart wasn't in it and she knew. We ended it nicely and now we share custody of Soph and try our best to accommodate each other's work schedules with childcare. Like now, I'm exempt from babysitting duties until I get settled here."
"She sounds like a wonderful woman," Gail smiled.
"Are you married?" Jason asked, deciding that that was the next question one should ask someone when the conversation revolved around family life.
"Widow actually," Gail smiled sadly, "Khobar Tower."
"Fuck, really?" Jason whistled, "Airforce?"
"Yup," Gail nodded as she collected eggs from the fridge.
"I lost a friend there. A national," Jason mumbled and shook his head, "What a mess."
"If it wasn't for Khobar and losing Robert I would never have found my fiancé," Gail shrugged, "I believe these things happen to test us, Taylor. And Robert's death was very testing. Callum, my fiancé, was a friend of Robbie's. Now is Mr Grey getting up for breakfast?"
Jason could tell that she was wanting to change the flow of the conversation and that was completely fine by him. He looked at his watch and realised it was nearing seven now, long after the half six he'd said he'd try waking Grey up again.
"I'll go check on him," Jason sighed, scratching his junk through his workout shorts as he headed to Grey's room again. He knocked but didn't hear any movement so he opened the door slowly, "Mr Grey?"
"…mmmm," Christian mumbled, his hairy foot hanging out the bed and a long leg exposed from the duvet.
"Mr Grey, are you getting up?" Jason tried, walking over to him and gently nudging his body.
Still Christian wasn't for moving and Jason really couldn't be bothered trying to wake him up again. His body clearly needed the sleep otherwise his natural body clock would kick in. So he decided to leave Christian to sleep longer, calling Ros to let her know Christian would not be in until later before greeting the workmen who were there to finally start work on the large communal bathroom.
It was eight thirty when Christian finally staggered out of his pit, Jason enjoying a relaxing morning watching the news with a coffee and a fry up whilst Mrs Jones prepped food for dinner. The man looked rough, his copper hair all over the place and crusty saliva on his cheek. He was wearing a vest now that he'd woken up. It covered his chest entirely, and he was also wearing his stripy boxer trunks which he'd changed into a few hours ago. He was still supporting his morning wood too which made Jason raise an eyebrow; he was oddly well-endowed for a man so slight and thin, perhaps bigger than Jason himself.
With a grunt from Gail, Jason realised he'd been staring directly at Grey's crotch. She shook her head at him and frowned in confusion before looking over at Grey. Jason just coughed and picked up his coffee mug, taking a deep gulp. Gail seemed unphased by Christian's lack of dress and arousal. Perhaps she was the only woman who didn't see Christian Grey as anything but a son figure, "Good morning, Mr Grey. Would you like breakfast?"
"What time is it?" Christian snapped when his eyes cast the microwave and he realised he'd slept in, "Taylor, what the fuck?"
"I tried to wake you twice," Jason countered, "I've called Ros to let her know you're not making it in this morning. The workmen have given me a quote on the work for your bathroom too. Mrs Jones and I have had a busy morning whilst you slept."
Christian glared at him but Jason didn't care. He wasn't prepared to be berated for not waking his exhausted boss. He'd tried and failed to wake Grey so he wasn't going to push it when they were still strangers to each other.
"You told Ros I wasn't coming in today?" Christian growled.
"I told Ros you were the boss of GEH and you'll appear when you appear," Jason snapped back, "I need to speak to you anyway with regards to a few security issues I have."
"Your French eggs, Mr Grey," Gail cooed, laying a plate before Christian before she disappeared with a shopping list in her small, feminine hands. With more grunting than was perhaps needed to display his displeasure, Grey sat down opposite Jason on the sofas with his breakfast and a cup of coffee.
"I need you to be more upfront with me about these Death Threats," Jason started as the man before him sprinkled pepper onto his egg toast. He pointed towards one of the many folders he'd received from Christian when he took the job. He'd studied each of them multiple times between reshuffling the security of both GEH and Escala but the information wasn't enough for Jason. "When I signed on you gave me a folder of your information but I really need more that what you've given me."
"What more could you possibly need to know?" Christian mumbled as he stuffed a piece of toast in his face.
"Is there anyone close to you that you believe is responsible for sending these threats?" Jason said, cutting straight through the bullshit and tapping the copies of the threats which Christian had provided him with in the folder.
"No one." Christian said firmly, licking his lips, "No one sticks out in my mind. I've told the same to the cops over and over again. There's no one, no business rivals or anything like that. I'm positive."
"Any lovers?" Jason asked bluntly, "It's my experience that, in most cases, the cause is a disgruntled lover."
"I whip women for a living. Remember?" Christian reminded Jason with a grumpy hiss and a deadpan expression. He was acting as though his contracted sex scheme was justification that one of his ex-lovers wasn't behind these horrible messages. To Jason, however, that was a very real possibility which was why Christian's 'Duh' tone pissed him off so much.
"Just women?" Jason continued to press, not prepared to let the matter go. He saw Grey's expression change and he stared at Jason with an unreadable expression which left Jason feeling slightly uneasy.
"There have been men in the past. Of course there have been. I believe you need to try everything once to know that you don't like it. Especially in my lifestyle," Christian observed rather wisely if truth be told, Jason thought, "Have you slept with men before, Mr Taylor?"
The smirk which Christian gave Jason ignited a burning rage within him; Christian knew how much being 'Mister'-ed pissed him off, let alone the nature of the question. Had Jason been with men; ignorant little prick.
"This isn't about me, Chrissy," Jason countered, sipping his coffee.
"It's Christian."
"Funny that," Jason smirked now, pulling his little note book out of his blazer pocket and opening it at the first available free page.
"Do you think these threats are the real deal?" Christian asked in a softer voice, opening the folder and coming face to face with the first and, arguably, the tamest threat;
You will be killed soon.
Your blood will pour from your veins
No one will miss you.
Jason could hear the wobble in his voice, watching as the man scratched his chest through the fabric of his vest. Jason could easily read his body language; Christian was truly terrified of these threats; more so than he was letting on to the world.
"Threats happen," Jason shrugged, "Particularly with individuals with high profiles like yourself. You'd be surprised how many people receive death threats in my line of work."
He'd worked with politicians and celebrities in the past, as well as doing his security work offshore in Somalia shooting potential pirates on large industrial cargo ships. What he'd learnt was that death threats often were the work of teenage boys who thought they were being funny, or they belonged to business rivals wishing to spook the opposition. Either was a plausible explanation at the current moment.
"So you think these could be nothing?" Christian pressed, as though his life depended on being told that he was overreacting to these threats and Jason understood why; lately the threats were being aimed at his family. No one liked to be threatened, but Jason had expected Christian Grey to be slightly more resilient if he was being honest to himself. From the background reading he'd done on the man, Jason had come to the conclusion that he was a ballsy type of lad with an aptitude for making the choices no one else could.
The man which Jason envision was very different to the man in front of him at this very second.
"Is there a reason that you think these threats might be real?" Jason decided to ask, staring into the man's shifty grey eyes. He couldn't look Jason in the eye and was staring at everything else in the room.
"Sometimes I think I'm being followed," Christian admitted, tapping his thigh over and over again. It was a nervous twitch and it highlighted to Jason just how much he truly believed he was being followed, "But I'm sure it's just a pap looking for photos, or even someone from a rival business. Sometimes people give me their CV on the streets you see," Christian rambled on.
The young man had shot up into the public eye like a firework only very recently after turning over his first billion dollars, making his business one of the largest up and coming companies to sprout through the fog of the financial crisis. He invested a large proportion of his own personal profit back into the company to maintain its continual growth and advancement which had resulted in offices in New York being open, bringing in more jobs in what was turning out to be a very very hard economic time.
He had very little free time, Jason imagined, so it was a mystery to him just how Christian Grey managed to run a charity for underprivileged children as well as continue to network at large social events with socialites and elitists.
America loved him and it was rightly so; he'd become a very popular image of hope and prosperity to many American households. He was creating jobs in a time where there was none, he was supporting thousands of children through education, he was very publicly supporting refugees and poverty in Africa...
He was so secretive as well that photos of him would be worth a mint to the media so it was very probable that he was being followed by the press and paps.
"You don't think it's either of those things, do you?" Jason pressed, watching as Christian's eyes fell down upon Jason's knees, "Paps or other businessmen."
"No," he agreed. "I think someone is following me."
"Why?" Jason pressed.
"They never take photos," Christian admitted and looked directly at Jason now, "I'll leave my office and I swear there's a man across the street, watching me. That's why I started driving the Ferrari; in case I needed a fast escape."
"Right," Jason nodded, "Thank you for being more honest about the current situation," he said, scratching his chin, "I just want you to know that you have me watching your back now. You're safe."
"Thank you," Christian nodded and scratched his junk, "I'm sorry you had to witness…my night terrors…this morning."
"I'm a marine," Jason shrug, putting his notebook away, "It happens."
"Thank you for being understanding," Christian smiled, looking at the clock on Jason's mobile phone, "I suppose I better get myself dressed for the day."
Jason nodded and then looked at his mobile phone too when it buzzed on the coffee table. He recognised the number straightaway as his friend at the car garage who modified and customised his security cars, "That's my guy texting to say the car is ready."
"It's been two days; how have you organised a new car and had it modified in a matter of hours?" Christian frowned.
"I act fast," Jason shrugged, "Do you want to go and view it before work?"
"Fuck work," Christian said, "Like you said; I'm the boss. I'm taking the day off. Fuck knows I need it."