"You met with my brother and sister," Christian Grey stated from across me.
"I did," I confirmed.
"Did they win you over?" He asked, smirking slightly. "Tell you all the wonderful things about me?"
Despite myself, I laughed a little.
"Oh yes," I said. "'Don't worry about that. They did mention the convicted murder charge but other than that…I heard you love football?"
He chuckled. "I did."
"Past tense?"
He shrugged, the smile slowly fading. I had not yet seen him smile genuinely and I realised how much it lit up his face.
"I don't have time to do anything here," he said. "The only thing you do here is keep your head down and try to survive."
He cracked his knuckles and I glanced down, noticing slight bruising there. I leaned forward, immediately concerned.
"What happened?" I asked.
He withdrew them quickly, handcuffs rattling as he hid them beneath the table.
"Nothing. I'm fine," he replied curtly, all traces of playfulness vanishing.
I swallowed, feeling unsettled.
"Isn't there somebody you can speak to?" I asked, but he answered me with a sharp glare.
"Drop it Anastasia. What did my siblings say to you?"
I sighed, taking out my notes before explaining everything to him. It really wasn't my concern. If he didn't want to speak about it, I couldn't force him too.
After I had finished telling him everything we had discussed, I moved onto Amy. As predicted, he was skittish about the whole thing and did not want to talk to me about her.
"What happened that night?" I pressed. "After you left the club. Where did you go next?"
"Back to hers," he said, sighing.
"And then? What happened at hers?"
He stared at me icily. "We played checkers," he said sarcastically. "What do you think happened? We fucked for a few hours. She wanted me to stay the night, but I didn't. I went home around two and never heard from her again."
I sighed heavily, tapping my pen against the table.
"Did Elena know about Amy?" I questioned, getting irritated at his lack of seriousness and reluctance to divulge.
He shrugged and I glared at him, leaning forward and placing both of my hands on the table.
"Do you want to spend the rest of your life in jail?" I questioned brazenly. He was making me lose my temper big time, something I rarely did. "Or are you just omitting information on purpose?" I snapped. "If you want me to start helping you then you have to start helping yourself. You need to answer me."
He smirked slightly. "You look even hotter when you're angry."
I stared at him for a long moment before standing up, placing my folders in my bag. I'd had more than enough.
"I'll take my services elsewhere," I said coldly. "Maybe to someone who appreciates it."
He sat forward, sighing heavily.
"Yes, she knew about Amy," he said, looking down at his cuffed hands. "She originally…selected her for me."
I narrowed my eyes, arms crossing over my chest. I stayed stood.
"What do you mean selected?"
He sighed again. "We had an arrangement. Once her husband found out about us, we ended our relationship. However, she agreed that she'd find me suitable girls from there on out."
"Suitable girls? What are you talking about?"
He got angry then.
"Girls that liked to be submissive," he retorted. "Girls that liked to be whipped and chained and tied up. I was a dominant. That was what I was into and that was all I wanted. She handled that for me. She found me experienced girls who agreed to my terms and conditions."
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before speaking. I turned around, looking away from him as I tried desperately to process the information. Whipped and chained and tied up…
The sudden urge to flee the room came over me like a gust of unexpected wind. What if this was all a fabricated lie? What if he really did kill these girls?
"What kind of man wants to do that to a woman?" I asked, still not looking at him. My words got caught in my throat.
He didn't answer.
"Maybe this was a mistake," I said quietly, feeling unnerved. "I…I have to go."
"Anastasia," he said.
The way he said my name made me turn to look at him and underneath the façade, I could see a pained expression.
"I did not kill those girls," he said slowly, as though reading my thoughts. "You have to believe me."
"Whipped and chained up? Why would you do that?" I murmured, feeling a deep seated cold in my bones. "You're not exactly helping yourself here."
I looked at him warily and he exhaled through his nose.
"I know," he admitted. "And this is why I'm in here. All of my poor choices have led to this. All of the evidence they have can be backed up by my character."
I said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He looked down at the table as he spoke.
"Throughout my relationship with Elena, she dominated me completely," he said quietly. "Over six years she turned me into a sadist. Played on my insecurities. Drew out every weakness I had. After a while, it became the only thing I knew. The only thing I had to hold onto. I'm not proud of the way I treated women or the things I did, but I can't change it. In here, the past is all I have to reflect on."
His voice grew embarrassed as he voiced his truth and somewhere inside, I felt a deep pity for the fifteen-year-old boy who had been tormented by this monstrosity.
He took a breather and I felt my muscles unclench slightly. My posture relaxed and loosened.
"I know you have no reason to believe me," he continued. "Everything points to the fact that I murdered those two girls, but I didn't. Elena knew exactly what she was doing."
I sighed, finally sitting down again. When he looked up at me, his eyes were intense.
"So Amy," I said, "she was your submissive?"
He nodded.
"For how long?"
"A few months maybe. But she wasn't as experienced as the others. Looking back on it now, I know Elena groomed her into the brothel before recommending her to me."
"How did you think she found these girls before you found out about the brothel?" I asked, taking my pen back out.
"She had always been a member of a club," he said, clasping his hands together. "A club called Red room redemption. It's a popular BDSM and swinger club in downtown Seattle. Very classy and expensive. Upmarket. All perfectly legal. She took me there a few times over the course of our relationship. I wasn't the only lover she had. She told me all the girls she recommended me were friends she'd met there and that was true, at first. Until she started collecting her own. Amy was one of them."
I nodded, writing down the name of the club. I would definitely be paying a visit there at some point.
"So, how did you find out that Amy wasn't from the club?" I asked. "How did you find out about the brothel?"
He breathed in deep. "As I said, Amy was inexperienced."
I waited.
"She talked a lot," he said. "She was young and naive. Started telling me all about her family and growing up with absent drug addict parents. She told me how Elena had saved her in her senior year of high school."
He sighed, looking back down. I could see the sincerity in his eyes that showed this was a difficult subject to talk about.
"What then?" I coaxed, my voice even and calm.
He started to tap his feet against the floor.
"I asked her what she meant, and she told me she'd said too much. I insisted and she ended up telling me that a man named Jack Hyde had started talking to her online. I can't remember the name of the chat room, but she started hooking up with him for a while and then he introduced her to Elena. Elena took her in. Gave her a home and made her feel special. She taught her how to be a submissive and told her she would be compensated for her services. She had no one else to turn to so she agreed."
I felt slightly queasy, my pen having trouble keeping up. How could someone do such a thing...
"After she told me, I left to confront Elena but she didn't answer my calls. The next morning," he said, "Amy had disappeared. That's when I knew Elena was dangerous. I knew she'd done something to her and so I kept my distance, trying to find out as much as I could about this brothel and where she found these girls so I could tell the police. I stayed away from her, but I knew she was getting suspicious. Eventually, I managed to track down one of the houses she was keeping a few of the girls in. I beat it out of Jack Hyde, and he caved. However, he must have got word to her before I got there. Once I arrived, the house was empty. Less than a week later, Leila was dead, and I was here."
I didn't quite know what to say, so I just wrote, all the while trying to make sense of the bucket load of information I'd just been given. It was too much and I was drowning in it, trying to figure out the best move.
"What do you think happened to Amy?" I finally asked. "Mia and Elliot think she's alive. Do you?"
"I don't know," he said quietly. "I truly don't know."
I exhaled and he looked up at me, his gray eyes bright.
"You don't have to do this," he said. "I know it's a lot and I'm mixed up in some dangerous shit. I don't want you to be too."
"Thank you," I said cooly. "But this is not your call."
He flared his nostrils slightly, irritated.
"Stay away from Elena," he said. "I mean it Anastasia."
"I said I would," I retorted.
We stared at each other for a long time before he spoke again.
"Since you know so much about me," he said, "I think I should know about you too."
Taken off guard, I raised my eyebrows in suspicion and confusion. This elicited a chuckle from him.
"Why would you want to know about me?" I asked.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking.
"Why wouldn't I?" He asked casually. "You're beautiful."
I flushed vibrantly and he chuckled again. I glowered at him.
"I'm not one of your submissive girls," I said sharply, narrowing my eyes. "And your flattery won't get you anywhere with me."
"You're feisty too," he continued. "I'm surprised that I like it so much."
"Oh please," I rolled my eyes. "I'm the first young woman you've seen properly in three years. At this point, I'm sure you'd find anything with boobs and lipstick attractive."
He laughed again. "That's definitely not true Anastasia. My type is very specific."
I tried not to flush but the way he was looking at me, coupled with his words, was making me feel hot and bothered and I had way too much going on to even contemplate what that meant right now.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asked.
"No. Stop asking me questions."
I stood up, packing up my bag. He watched me the whole time.
"Our time is up," I announced, my tone clipped.
"You'll be back?" He asked. The tone with which he asked was casual enough, but I could sense the urgency underneath. The need to know I would in fact be back.
"I'll be back," I stated, refusing to meet his gaze.
I could feel his smile follow me as I walked through the door and out of the building.