She looked at me, looking like a dear caught in headlights and vigorously shook her head, breathing in soft little pants. "I... no... didn't mean..."
"Come on, Tell me." Then I had a disturbing thought, my mind quivering with indignation. I inquired firmly, "Did someone put you up to this?"
"N-No one." She shook her head again as her ability to remain coherent betrayed her.
Had someone finally taken advantage of her lack of money and tried to bribe her to spy on me? I wasn't keeping any close tabs on her so it was possible. Was she to be some honey trap for me? A bait planted by some business rival? If so, then firstly, what a juicy bait and secondly, did she know how precarious her life would become by going behind my back?
I could tell by the way her hands were trembling, if I scared her more, she might pee herself or worse faint. So I decided to soften my voice and show some gentleness, "Don't be scared. I won't hurt you. Look at me... look me right in the eye... yes... now tell me, did someone put you up to this?" This wasn't the first time someone had unsuccessfully tried to spy on me. She just shook her head.
"Use your tongue Ms. Steele!"
"N-No." She croaked out.
"Are you sure? Because I have ways of making even the most hardened of criminals talk." I softly said in her face as I impassively looked her in the eye.
"I-I'm not a criminal. You know that."
"Do I?"
"You better have a very good reason for invading my privacy like that. Do you know what you just did?"
"I wanted your help. I didn't know how else to talk to you. So I waited for you to come back. But you didn't notice me when you entered your office... a-and you..." she averted her gaze, "y-you were acting quite weirdly. I got scared and k-kind of, sort of... stepped behind the curtains... you know? At the time, I didn't realize how bad it would look if I suddenly out of the blue popped out from behind the curtains. But then you started trashing this place and I-I was so scared. I-I'm sorry. I wouldn't have come here if what I wanted to talk about wasn't of the utmost importance."
Fuck she had seen me do it. She had seen me lose myself like that. "I want you to know if you are lying to me I will find out about it."
"I swear Mr. Grey!" For some unfathomable reason I believed her. She didn't seem like someone who was used to committing treachery.
"You wait right here." I pointed at nothing in particular and started to look around for my phone, "I'm calling Taylor. Ms. Steele even if a single syllable got out from your mouth regarding what happened here, there will be hell to pay!"
"God, what kind of a person do you think I am? I would never do that to you!"
"You... what?"
"You looked so sad and clearly very angry, I—I mean, obviously something happened. That can happen to anybody, well or at least to some people, you don't have to explain yourself to me."
Why the fuck was she so positive about everyone? How the fuck was she retaining that little miss sunshine attitude of hers right after what she had witnessed?
I cleared my throat, beginning to feel relatively self conscious, "Well, you're still signing the NDA."
"If it gives you any peace of mind, fine, I will." she said, her tone was what oddly sounded like consoling.
Her eyes wandered to my hand. As she gasped, I could feel all that fright evaporating into proverbial steam as concern replaced fear on her sweet face, "You're bleeding? Oh my God! Christian you're bleeding!" I took the time to indignantly glare at her for using my name with such familiarity when I had implicitly instructed her otherwise. She wouldn't be Anastasia if she took notice of my pointed expression.
She was too focused on the damage inflicted on my hand. Her eyes darted to my face as I looked sideways, huffing, "You have a cut on your cheek too!" She cautiously took a step forward. Her eyes darting to my face, then my hand, then my face again, as though to gauge my disposition and reaction. Her legs unconsciously moved towards me, as if she couldn't help herself. She slowly moved closer. "You need first aid."
With a tender and compassionate look on her face, she gently, perhaps not to startle me into recoiling, reached out and took hold of my wrist, examining the wounds on my hand. I sucked in a sharp breath. Instincts told me to snap my hand away from her soft, gentle and kind fingers. Had she been touching me sexually, my response would be the complete opposite. This was new and uncharted territory for me. New and terrifying.
"You must be hurting..." She said, appearing to be completely comfortable in her nurturing element.
I, for a few seconds, looked at her slim fingers barely circling my wrist. My mind going blank. I had no strategy. I felt naked. The uncertainty made me twist, then jerk my hand away. She let it go easily, but didn't stop her advancing steps. She was treating me as though I was a certified insane person, who needed gentle coaxing. I stifled a disgusted snort.
The fuck. Why the fuck was she advancing on me? Was she coming to touch me. It was so long since someone had tried to touch me. I became violent when someone touched me. She would only hurt herself if the stubborn woman didn't halt.
I retreated back unknowingly, my eyes widening, "Stop! Stay where you are! Mind your limits Ms. Steele." I might have made a pitiful picture with cuts on my hands and face, and a crazed look in eyes. I straightened my spine, trying to appear authoritative.
The concern on her face didn't wash away. In fact for some peculiar reason, it increased. "B-but you're bleeding Christian!"
"Don't call me Christian!"
"Okay... okay... you're bleeding Mr. Grey."
My jaw tightened as I squinted at her harshly, "Don't pretend to care for me. I detest fakers."
"I'm not faking anything." She said softly, patiently.
She again moved forward. Fuck, she was coming to touch me! Where was her fear when I needed it? I moved a few steps back, but there was no stopping her. "Stay where you are Ms. Steele! I mean it!" Her concern for everything and everyone had overtaken her better sense.
"There's b-blood on your shirt too." She uttered, still adorning that damnably pitying expression.
"I loathe pity." I tightened my injured hand, blood dropping down on the floor.
She looked at my hand and face desperately, "Oh Mr. Grey, why are you so difficult? I won't touch your chest or your back. You can trust me!"
My eyes widened at what she had so easily uttered. What the...
"You don't like anybody touching you. You get scared and defensive. I've figured it out during our previous..." She trailed off. Shook her head. Then looked around, "Do you have a first aid box here?"
"G-Get out of my office!" I ordered shakily.
"It's okay. I understand if you don't want me to do it. Call Taylor then. I offered because I surmised you wouldn't want anyone else finding out about what you... did. I mean I'm by no means implying you wanted me to find out, but since I'm already here, I should help you! If not me, then call Taylor. I'm not leaving before you call for some help."
They way she had so familiarly taken Taylor's name ticked a nerve in my temples.
"Listen woman! I warned you. Not to invade my privacy. You foolish foolish girl."
She shook her head.
"Well, I'm not going to let you bleed out." She proclaimed obstinately, crossing her arms, her chin lifting with stubbornness.
This was the Anastasia I remembered.
Why doesn't she understand. She was ruining everything. I was lost with how to deal with this woman. This environment, it had an uncanny likeness to my insides right now, splintered and spattered everywhere. I needed this time to sort myself out. My brain wasn't in the right place to even form a coherent sentence.
To add to that, seeing her here. In my office. She had already seen me perhaps at my ultimate worst. It was calling out to my baser self. Who had seductively taken it upon itself to whisper all the potential prospects that could happen in this room. There might be chaos everywhere around us, but the couch appeared invitingly clean and little glass shards don't hurt that much anyway. I looked at her, my predator self again resurfacing, whilst she tapped one foot with impatience, awaiting my response. So naive and unassuming. Besides I was destined to be damned anyways. Wasn't my grandmother the one who had said I was just like father dearest, if not worse.
The object of my desires and fascination was in front of me. And I was moving away from her like a fucking wimp.
Why do I feel this way for her. This yearning inside my soul. My mouth became parched and my heartbeat sky-rocketed whenever she was in close vicinity to me. How unlucky she was. If I was a better person, I would leave her alone. But I was not a better person. Especially when I had never felt this bone deep desire for anyone. Not even close to it.
I looked at her recklessly, as a smirk lifted one side of my face, "Do you want to get raped Anastasia?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Wasn't that what my father did?
"What?" Her breath hitched, eyes widening with disbelief as though she had heard wrong. Her posture unknowingly became guarded.
"You heard me." I unconsciously started to circle her.
"You're bluffing. Y-You don't mean it."
"Don't I?" I smirked mirthlessly, "You think you know me? You've no idea what I can be capable of." After all, insanity was hereditary. Was this what my father felt for my mother? No. He called it love. Mine couldn't be love. It must be some affliction. A technical glitch in the wiring of my brain.
"You're just saying it to scare me off!" Her words shook.
"You think I'm bluffing?"
Grab her! Some peculiar voice roared inside my brain. In response I curved my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out.
Grab her! I resisted. Grab her before she leaves you again. Before she leaves you for good.
"You won't do anything like that. You don't even want me... I-I know.."
Amusement filtered my mind. As naive as ever. I chuckled, out loud. I deserved an Oscar if she thought I didn't want her anymore. "Do you think rape only happens when someone feels attraction?" I added, "No, people also rape to humiliate." Or to get over their obsession and rage.
"Stop! Stop using this word please." She suddenly cried out.
"Why though. Is it by any chance making you uncomfortable?"
"Okay. Enough jokes. Y-You're scaring me now." She stuttered.
"There's one slight problem though. A moment of truth Ms. Steele." I slowly cupped my manhood over my trousers, with my bloody hand, leaving a stain. "I still find you mighty attractive and would love to return the favour of you slapping me, so if you think about it on a philosophical level, it is a win-win situation for me. I get to humiliate you and sate my lust all at the same time."
She shuffled from one foot to another, "You're... kind of scaring me... but I know you're not serious. You're just angry, I-I know."
"On the scale of one to ten, how scared are you? I'm curious." My eyes gleamed at her.
I saw as she widened her stance. "Stop it!" She was beginning to get angry as she spat out. Interesting. She still had it in her.
"Not scared anymore. Fair enough. So you're angry now? Angry enough to slap me again?" I asked conversationally, as if the topic of our discussion was cold weather.
She shook her head.
"No?" I asked. "I wonder how far I can push you before you slap me again. Perhaps if I lock the door, rip your clothes off, cover your mouth with my hand—"
She jammed her hands over her ears, "Please Christian stop!"
"Have you lost your virginity yet Anastasia? Because if you haven't, I'll be relieving you of it tonight."
She raised her arm to slap my face. I blocked her attack, holding her slim wrist in my hand. Then twisted her arm behind her back. "Never raise your hand at me again, understand." My mouth was touching her ear. I noticed with fascination the way her hair stood on end at my nearness.
She jerked herself free when I slightly loosened my grip. I let her go.
She turned around to face me. If my goal was to scare her, then I was sorely disappointed.
She was angry alright, but there was another emotion on her face. Pity. Pity and a disturbing amount of observation which was directed at me.
Troubled by her probing gaze. I turned around deliberately. My mouth set into grim lines. I, for some reason, wanted her to take the chance and sprint, before I committed some other unforgivable crime against her. When I didn't hear the sound of scrambling feet I turned back around and raised my brow at her. "Still here?"
"Are you horny Ms. Steele, or are you offering yourself? Do you want me to use my mouth on you again? Have you decided to use my expertise while you're here after all?"
"O will you shut up already! You don't mean it, I know."
"Mean what?"
"What you just said."
"What did I just say Ms. Steele?"
"I know you won't hurt me... physically." Then she rolled her eyes at me. "Besides you're all bark and no bite."
My brows shot up on my forehead at the incredulity of the situation and her ludicrous conclusion. I wanted to know how this woman was still alive with so little sense of self-preservation?
My head tilted to the side, curiously, as I watched her sweet trusting face cynically. I felt laughter bubble up inside of me. If only she knew of my origins and what I had done to her.
One minute I was furious, another I was chuckling at her.
"You're one ridiculous woman!"
She swiftly came near me. "O yeah? You think you're capable of doing something like that? Well... then I'm here. What are you waiting for?"
Staggered, I took a slight step back. Was she crazy? My brows drew together.
The power had gradually switched. I could feel it in the air.
"Come on. Hurt me Christian. I slapped you, you can slap me in return and then we can call it an even? Or if that wouldn't do, why did you turn away from me? You think you're capable of rape. Then rape me. There's no one here. Only you and me. What's stopping you?"
"Don't try to play with fire." I hissed.
"If I'm dumb enough to play with fire then I wonder why that fire hasn't caught me yet."
My face tightened, "I—You... get out!"
"You know you're the only one who thinks the worst of yourself. If you're lucky, I hope, for the sake of your reputation and sanity, you've only gone on these crazy rants in front of me. Had it been someone else, you would've been long featured on the first page of Seattle times and not just because of your philanthropy..."
She bit her lip in an infuriatingly bothersome way, the concern was back on her face, "...and you're also hurt. Let me help you. Or call Taylor." And we were back to that.
My mouth opened to say something, then closed. My thoughts were fuzzy. I didn't know what to say to her, except for get out. But it had now become redundant. Repeating the same words over and over again would made me look like a half-wit. So I settled on staring at her blankly.
Even though, I didn't know how to respond. I was surely annoyed, but I was also rendered a bit in awe of her. Why so compassionate for someone like me? And right after I'd threatened her with the worst atrocity one could commit against a woman.
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