Christian

I sent Amber out because I feel she's seen me lose my fucking mind a few too many times lately. I give the fucking son of a bitch of a school principal my cold death stare. Let's make this fucker squirm. He obliges, and squirms.

"Would you care to explain to me what the fuck you've just done to my daughter?" I ask him and my voice could freeze fire.

"I punished her, as is my duty as principal of this school. Your daughter" He says it with distaste and my fists clench. "Punched another student in the face, breaking her jaw. Before that she had stolen that very same student's bag."

Motherfucker.

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow. "My daughter's bodyguard, along with several other students who witnessed it, says that Amber had merely taken a bag that wasn't hers by mistake and that she was provoked."

The son of a bitch snorts. How fucking dare he?! I go on:

"And either way, one only needs to take a look at my daughter to see that the kid needs help, not punishment. She's been through hell in the past few weeks and any idiot would be able to see that she's neither sleeping nor eating right."

I feel a twinge of guilt, because that's exactly what I have done, grounding her again just because she lost control over her mouth while upset. And I haven't been taking care of her properly. It's all my fucking fault, it's probably even my brawler gene that made her lose control and lash out at that other girl. I repress those thoughts for now and turn my attention back at the idiot Fitzgerald who's speaking up:

"We use corporal punishment as a method of discipline here, Mr. Grey." He says my name with disgust too. "You've signed all our contracts every year when you've paid your daughter's tuition."

"In those contracts it also says that parents are to be notified before, not during or after, such punishment is administered." I snap. "I wasn't notified at all; my employee called me up and told me what the hell was going on." I move closer to him and look down at his ugly face; I'm at least five inches taller. "Why is that?" I ask in a dangerously low voice.

"You're a busy man Mr. Grey." He mutters. "We didn't want to disturb you with such petty things."

I laugh bitterly.

"My daughter being abused by the people I trust her with every day is hardly something I consider 'petty'" I say. "And I think it's just a tad strange that your being so quick to beat my daughter coincides with my closing down your father's corrupt business and stripping you of all your laundered money?"

He says nothing to this and I glare into his sleepy eyes, saying in a voice that's hardly more than a low growl:

"You'll go down for this. I will have you charged with assault and abuse and I'll make sure you go to prison for as long as possible. Then you can think back of how much fun you had hurting an innocent girl because you had an issue with her father."

Fucking sadist. As I think it, I have a horrible feeling that I also repress for now to be dealt with later. I have more important stuff to take care of. Amber. Because I want the fucker Fitzgerald to have as little against me as possible, I neither punch his teeth in or kick his balls. I just give him one final look of disgust and leave. I glare icily at the useless fucking secretary on my way out, hissing something about how I'll have her prosecuted as well. She knew what the hell was going on in there; she should have interfered. From the state Amber was in, hardly being able to fucking walk, I understood without even having to raise the question that she had gotten far more than the five swats that are listed as the upper limit for any offence in the mile long list of school policy and rules. But of course it was difficult for her to say anything to protest. Which is also a reason for why it shouldn't be a problem to have Fitzgerald convicted, he took advantage of having the upper hand both physically and hierarchically. I nod at my lawyers as I walk through the corridor; I rang them from the car and they've already arrived to collect testimonies and find witnesses to what happened in the hallway between Amber and that girl. Good. I rush through the hall, eager to get the fuck out of here and more importantly; to get my daughter out of here. I get out and see my little girl standing by the car with Sawyer. I walk down the steps and as I come closer I almost feel the urge to throw up. I'm sickened by myself for so many fucking things right now and the most prominent is the knowledge of how neglectful I've been. How is it possible that I, after all the shit I went through before the Greys adopted me, could have let my child suffer like this? Knowing though that I can't do anything about that now I do the thing I have to do. I stand close to Amber and lift her downturned face up towards me. It's red and there are dark shadows under her eyes. Her bottom lip is bleeding, she must have been biting it. But of all that it's seeing her eyes that nearly makes me choke; there is no life in them. It's like she's completely drained. Then, suddenly, before I can figure out what the hell I can say to her, tears spill over and her shoulders begin to shake.

"Oh baby." I mumble and pull her to me. She stands stiff and still for a moment and then her arms go around my waist as she cries hard into my chest. I do what I can, which is mostly to just fucking stand there. I nod at Sawyer to take the driver's seat; he can come back later with Taylor for the other car. I scoop Amber up in my arms and get her into the car. I try to be careful but she winces when I sit her down. I quickly get in beside her and put my arm around her shoulder.

"Home?" I ask Amber softly and she nods. I instruct Sawyer and he drives off straight away. I keep holding my daughter until we reach Escala and she doesn't pull away but she doesn't say anything either.

"Thank you Sawyer. I won't be needing you right now, call Taylor to help you collect the other car." I say as he holds up the car door on my side. I keep an arm around Amber's shoulder and help her out and towards the elevator. I curse inwardly at the sight of how stiffly she's walking. I'll have that monster's head on a fucking plate. In the elevator up to the apartment, Amber leans her head against my shoulder and almost looks as if she's drowsed off until her head shoots up as the doors slide open. She wipes her face with the back of her hand and I get her into the living area, trying to collect some cushions as discretely as I can for her to sit down on. I squeeze her shoulder before going into the kitchen area to fetch her some Advil.

"Mr. Grey." Gail is there, a worried look on her face. Sawyer must have called her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not for the rest of the day, thank you." I tell her as I rummage through the cupboards. Why can't I fucking find the Advil, have I forgotten where the hell we keep it?!

"Here you go, sir." Gail senses what I'm looking for and opens the right drawer.

"Thank you." I mutter to her. "You go ahead and take a long weekend; I need to spend some time alone with my daughter."

"Very well, sir." She glances into the living area before forcing a smile and leaving. I take a small bottle of water and the Advil and go back to Amber, sitting down next to her and handing her the meds and the water. Without me having to tell her she takes to tablets and swallows them with some water. Once she's done she looks up at me with her red, tearstained face full of anxiety.

"Aren't you mad at me?" She asks in a twitchy, trembling voice.

"Not in the slightest." I tell her immediately, taking the water bottle from her and putting it on the mahogany coffee table.

"But…" New tears form in her eyes. "I broke someone's jaw."

"I know." I say seriously. "It's ok."

"But they'll press charges!" Amber wails and now the tears are exploding out of her eyes as her breathing gets harsher and more irregular.

"It doesn't matter; I don't care." I try to assure her but she's not hearing me.

"It'll be so expensive.. an-and- and it will show… in records.. I don't know what – what to do-do. I don't know what to do…" She sobs hard and my heart, whatever low-price kind it is that I have, simply breaks for her.

"Amber." I look her in the eye and make another attempt at being reassuring as I stroke her hair. "You need to listen to me. First of all; you don't have to know what to do because you will not need to do anything. I will take care of it; I'm your father and you're far from alone in this." Some fucking father you've been to her, Grey "I'm so sorry for letting you deal with so much shit on your own this past week. I just… I should have been there for you."

She snivels and I pull her to me again.

"I don't hate you." She sobs, her voice muffled because her face is buried in my chest.

"I'm glad." I kiss her head.

"I'm sorry"

"Hush." I mumble.

I pathetically pat her back and eventually she calms down somewhat.

"We have a lot of things we need to talk about soon." I tell her. "Unpleasant things. If you feel up to it we can talk now, but I was going to suggest that we wait until tonight or tomorrow morning. That ok with you?"

Amber nods as she pulls away from me and wipes her tears. I kiss her forehead and rise from the sofa.

"I'll make fix you something to eat, do you want to take a shower and change in the meantime?"

Another nod. I take her hand and pull her up. I walk with her towards our bedrooms but instead of walking past mine to hers I lead her into mine and onto my bathroom.

"Towels are on the rack, use whatever you want on the shelf in the shower." I say as I search my cabinet. "I'll go get some clothes from your room and put them on my bed for you to change into. Ok?"

"Ok"

I put a jar on the counter between the sinks.

"Here's some Arnica cream." I tell Amber, clearing my throat. "It's very soothing for the skin."

"Thanks" Amber mumbles and her face flushes scarlet.

"Of course." I walk out of the bathroom to give her privacy. As I'm about to close the door I say:

"Take all the time you need but if you take too long I'll come back to check on you."

She doesn't smile. I close the door and with a sigh I hurry off to Amber's room, getting a pair of pajamas, new underwear and a cardigan. I grab a pair of knitted socks from her drawer as well. Back in my bedroom I'm satisfied to hear the water running and I put the clothes on the bed as I said I would. I go to the kitchen, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. Not just about the damn cooking.

…

Amber

The shower feels so good, because of the hot water splashing over me and the fact that no one can tell on you if you cry in the shower. Dad has a lot of different kinds of body wash and shampoo for a guy. Not that I'd know anything about what amount of shower cream is normal for a dude to keep in his shower. I find a series of body wash, shampoo and conditioner that are supposed to spell like eucalyptus. I avoid looking in the mirrors that I can see through the glass shower door on the other side of the wall. I don't want to see what my bottom looks like, from how it feels I imagine it has to be pretty messed up. But I don't know, maybe this is what it feels like. So freaking embarrassing. I don't remember what my last spanking felt like but for some reason I find it super hard to believe that dad would have ever hurt me like this, even if he had actually hit me with the Damn Thing those couple of weeks ago. Then again, the spanking I got from dad when I was line dancing on the balcony made me scared to come here for months. I step out of the shower and twirl one towel around my hair and one around my body. They're soft and warm, having hung on the heated rack. I dry my face first, rub a smaller towel until it's glowing. I almost feel clean once I've done it with my entire body (except my bottom obviously). I open the jar of Arnica cream, it looks and smells super expensive. I blush to myself as I rub some in and wince at how much it stings to touch but dad was right; it is soothing. I use almost half the jar, hoping he won't mind. I step out into dad's bedroom and see that he's gotten PJs for me, my favorite ones. It's really soft light green cotton shorts with brown polka dots and a matching top. I put on the panties, pajamas and shrug into the brown knitted cardigan he's left. I pull on the multicolored knitted socks too and go back into the bathroom to hang the towels. I realize I have to brush my stupid hair, I haven't done that since last week. It's like one big tangle now. I take dad's comb and start working. Within minutes I'm freaking crying again, I could fill like fifty buckets with all the damn tears I've cried since the day I moved in here. I have apparently taken "too long" too because dad is banging his fists on the door, making me jump.

"I'm done soon" I say, trying to hide the fact that I'm crying.

"Are you crying?" Dad asks immediately from the other side of the door. Fail. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I snivel and in storms dad.

"What's the matter?" He looks straight at my face.

"My stupid fucking hair." I sob.

Dad looks relieved. He comes over to me and takes the comb from my hands. He starts untangling my stupid fucking hair very carefully, and tears start running slower and slower until they finally stop. It's not hurting so bad when dad does it, I had no idea he could be so patient.

"There." He mutters when it's all done. "Do you want a braid?"

"You know how to make braids?" I ask with a frown.

"It so happens I do." Dad smirks but it's not a very joyful smirk.

"Ok." I mumble. "Thanks"

"Give me that hair tie, please."

I give him the hair tie I was wearing earlier; I put it around my wrist when I washed my hair. Dad braids my hair really quickly and I look in the mirror, it actually looks good. I never learned how to make braids right, I suck at them. So bad that five-year olds feel the need to slap me in the face because I mess up their hair so bad.

"All done." Dad says. "Come on, let's go eat."

He puts an arm around me and walks me not to the kitchen but into the TV room. I nearly start crying when I see that practically every cushion in the entire apartment is on the sofa, with blankets and stuff. It looks so cozy and I just want to bury myself in them. But I'm hungry, like really hungry for the first time in over a week. The coffee table is set for two with bowls and forks and there's a big bowl in the middle of the table. Macaroni and cheese. Exactly what I need.

"I got you some pineapple juice, is that all right?" Dad asks as he moves some blankets so I can sit down.

"Yeah, thanks" I tell him quietly and climb up on the couch. As I do, the hem of my shorts move up slightly and I hear dad hiss.

"What?" I ask, alarmed.

"How hard did that fucker hit you?" Dad asks me, sounding completely furious.

"Um… Hard?" I feel worried.

"Your thighs are…" Dad shakes his head. "It looks pretty bad, baby."

"Oh." I don't know what to say to that. "Well… it feels pretty bad."

"I can only imagine." Dad mutters and sits down next to me with a sigh, folding a blanket around me and handing me the remote. "Pick a movie, Amber. We'll talk about everything when you've got some food in you."

I'm so tired. I scroll for a while and find "Howl's Moving Castle". Perfect. I want a happy ending. Dad fills our bowls with mac n' cheese and he still has a frown on his face. I didn't quite believe him when he said he wasn't mad, I kind of worry about the conversation we're going to have. He'll probably want to know why I hit Rebecca and I won't know how to explain it. Then we'll see about "not in the slightest". I eat two huge bowls of macaroni, I'm so hungry. Dad is glancing at me all the time, looking surprised but like really pleased. He's so weird about food. I put down my bowl and dad smiles a little at me.

"Good?" He asks.

I want to answer something like "obviously" but I don't have the energy so I just nod. Dad takes my hand and squeezes it before getting back to his own food. I get back to the movie, trying my best to forget about everything else for a moment and believe life can be a fairytale. I kind of succeed. Well, I fall asleep.

…

Christian

Amber is still sleeping when the movie is over. To be honest, I didn't really get it. But I wasn't focused, when I wasn't looking every five seconds to see if Amber was still breathing (but then again, why the fuck wouldn't she be?) I'm lost in my own mind. I need to see fucking Flynn as soon as I've dealt with all the immediate legal shit. Looking at the fucker Fitzgerald and knowing what he had just done to my daughter, I saw the enjoyment in his eyes. Of course, I saw it disappear too when he finally got it into his thick skull that he'd burn for this. But I saw it. And I despised him for it. Thought to myself that this asshole is crawling with the lowest creatures there are. And then it fucking dawned on me that I'm no better. I'm exactly the same. Sure, I'd never do anything to anyone who didn't give their consent but I truly fucking enjoy beating innocent-looking brown-haired girls until they scream, it brings me pleasure. Fucking sadist. It sickens me to know that I want to abuse and humiliate Anastasia Steele the same way he did with Amber, and I fucking get off on the idea. Which is why I have to end it once and for all with Anastasia, this flirt or whatever it is can't go on. I can't have a relationship with her, not the kind of relationship I proposed. Or any kind, because that shit is the only thing I'm capable of. And if that's the case I'll just have to suck it up and go into fucking celibate because I can't be who I am even behind locked doors anymore. I'm having the playroom and the spare apartment cleared as soon as possible because I just won't be able to live with myself knowing I'm doing the same things to women as the fucker that assaulted my daughter. Flynn will have to step up his game and truly make my money worthwhile. I sigh as I snap open my Blackberry to e-mail Anastasia. Might as well get it fucking over with. Once I'm done I gaze over at Amber, she's sleeping heavily. I don't want to leave her on her own so I go and fetch my laptop to get some work done. After only ten minutes or so my inbox lets me know that I have e-mail from Anastasia Steele. I ignore it.

…

THANK YOU to everyone who left encouraging, positive and constructive reviews of the last chapter! You people are amazing and I'm so happy, happy happy that you like this story! Thanks also to the sweet private messages you've sent me, I appreciate it a lot. I know I have been throwing a lot of shit at the poor characters, but things will be better soon. Starting now. Amber being assaulted by her principal was unfortunately necessary to give Christian a sort of wake-up call and do some soul searching (right on the money as usual, mkmrider ;) ) But fear not, Ana will come back and play a significant part even if she has never been and never will be, a "main character" in this story.

About Ana's sexual history: since some appear to have felt the need for clarification. Ana is not a virgin in this story, she's a thirty-year-old woman who has had a long relationship with José. For me it just didn't make sense for Ana to never have experienced anything sexual when she's that much older and experienced in general. I thought it would be easy to just go along with it but apparently not so here you have it in black and white ;)

…

As always, I ask you to PLEASE let me know what you think! Good or bad, but please be constructive rather than just asking me "what the hell I'm doing" ;) Thank you for reading!