I don't think my feet had run faster in my life. Faster- must go faster! They only came to a momentary pause when my burner phone vibrated in my pocket. It was yanked out so fast. "Daddy?!" I hadn't bothered to check the number. "Anastasia?" A wave of terror washed through me at the sound of Christian's voice. I immediately hung up without hesitation. The battery was tossed onto the ground and I bit the phone chip. Then I proceeded to throw the phone down and smash it with my foot. No… Just No. I won't let him get involved in this; not him, not Christian. He was too special, too precious… I couldn't let anything bad happen to him on my account. Confidence that he couldn't trace the call now, I continued running as hastily as humanly possible to the old warehouse.
["Hey, Paul. You weren't gone long! Did you find Black?" Doyle greeted me as I burst through the office door. "I want all files on Ray and Anastasia Steele now!" I didn't address him; I had to find out if what that slimeball was true- if it could be true. Doyle blinked puzzled by this out-of-the-blue request. "Why?" "Just get them for me!" I shot back, visibly upset. He started typing on the computer and the office phone rang.
"Detective Clayton," my tone was clearly one of annoyance. "Paul?" Oh great; what does he want? I don't have time to deal with rich pricks right now. "What?" My eyes rolled dramatically. "Has Anastasia called you?" My heart dropped at her name. Ana? I thought she was in Florence- safe and not alone in Florence. "Why? What's wrong?" My voice was now trying to stifle the panic currently raising inside of me. "I just called her and she hung up on me. She sounded panicked," he seemed alarmed now too. That made two of us.
"I haven't heard from her all weekend; her phone's been shut off. You told me she was in Florence." "She was; I just saw her this morning." "You what?" Fantastic; now my anger-level was lifting too. Don't tell me… Grey wouldn't actually fly halfway across the world like that, would he? But then again, he's rich; rich blokes were known for doing crazy shit. We'd talk about what he meant more later. All my thoughts were on Ana currently.
"So she hasn't contacted you then?" "Where is she? Did she come back already?" "Yes, but I think something's happened. I tried to track the call from her phone and it couldn't be located. You can't reach her either?" He definitely sounded more than a little worried right now. And my own nerves were beginning to boil over too. "Ana's in some sort of trouble?" "Then you know she's a princess of an extensive, powerful, and wealthy mob family?" Those words rang on repeat in my head. "Yes, I think so," he admitted in a truly terrified tone. Holy shit….. holy shit! Ana's in trouble! She's in danger!
My mind went into overdrive. I straightened up, catching the eye of Doyle who gazed over at me confused. "Where is she? Where is she, dammit!" "I don't know; there's no way for me to locate her." "Have you tried calling Steele?" That was desperation on my part. "I did; he's not answering either. Do you know where he lives?" "No, Ana never told me the address…."
That's when my eyes glimpsed down at my computer with a black screen. The wheels began to turn….. Wait, I gave Ana a bracelet… I put it in her bag the night before she left for Florence. "A bracelet….." My lips uttered unthinkingly. "Huh?" "A bracelet… a black police bracelet; I gave one to Ana before she left." "Oh, I know what one you're talking about. She was wearing it in Italy." "So you did go see her in Florence?!" My eyes grew as my blood started to boil. No, I'd deal with that later- there were more important things to attend to now. Much, much more important.
"She was wearing it, you say?" I had to regain my composure readily. "Uh huh." Perfect! Like a shot, I flew down to my computer. I typed in Anastasia's name and the bracelet number assigned to hers. Within a minute a map with a blinking little green dot appeared on the screen. "Bingo!" I said more to myself than Grey. "What? What is it?" He asked, still frantic. "I found her! The bracelet has a tracer." "Where is she?!" "Looks like… she's in some old abandoned warehouse," I studied the map carefully. "A warehouse?" Grey repeated in a confused tone. I understood his confusion, though I think I knew more than him at this point. "That's right." "Why would she go there?" "Don't know. She might have been brought there forcibly."
That sentence set both of us off. I was already reaching for my police car keys. "What's the address?" Grey wasn't asking; he was demanding. "Stay out of this, Grey. Let us handle it," and by "us", I meant "me". "Give me the address, Clayton," you could hear his teeth grinding through the phone. "You have no business there. Leave this to us," my voice was a bit firmer this time. I swore I could feel his rage radiating through my ear piece. "This is my business. Now give me the damn address." "No; you'll only get in the way." "Don't take this the wrong way, Clayton, but fuck you." My eyes started to grow as I was actually kind of impressed by the balls on this guy; he knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to demand it.
"I'll never ask you for anything else, but please- for the love of god, tell me where she is."]