A/N: No-go areas.
Grey's 'changes' are superficial at best. He's merely changing the window dressing in a condemned house.
Inspiration Song(s): The Police - King of Pain
Then I threw open the door, planning to get some heavy tools to beat the hell out of all that remained, instead running directly into Taylor.
TPoV
Grey came striding out of the murder-death-kill room. I hated, really fucking detested, that I'd be forced to burst his bubble. Hopefully, he wouldn't shoot, or fire, the messenger.
"What time are we heading to the hospital?" he asked, an unmistakable undercurrent of excitement lacing his voice. No time to fix this clusterfuck. I'd just have to rip off the band-aid.
"We're not going to the hospital tonight," I admitted. There. It was out.
"Why not?" he demanded tersely.
"My contact in the hospital called me and told me not to come," I replied. Obviously "me" meant Grey, and I'm sure he realized that.
"Is something wrong with Anastasia?" he asked anxiously, because clearly the only reason Grey wasn't allowed was that something is wrong with her, but I'd roll with that.
"No, she's just not been getting enough rest I'd imagine," I replied blandly. I've read his fucking contracts. There was a paragraph-long sleep requirement, yet he didn't let that stop him from sweeping into Ms Steele's hospital room, where he stood vigil over her for hours, then interrogated the poor girl from the moment she woke up until she yawned him out of the fucking room.
"Can I call her?" he asked, grasping for straws or a lifeboat. I really couldn't tell which at this point.
"The phone in her hospital room is disengaged. The ringing hurts her head. You know this," I retorted. I already knew where this was going, and I would no longer facilitate his harassment of Ms Steele, especially while she's convalescing in her damned hospital bed. Didn't he read the same report I did? She'd coded at least two fucking times before reaching the hospital.
Ms Steele has a closed head injury, or TBI. While there were no plans for surgery at this time, doctors were at the hurry up and wait stage, ready to intervene at any moment, while monitoring her for any adverse change. Dealing with a frustrated Grey would be enough to cause a healthy person to relapse.
Ever since Ms Steele identified Leila Williams as her attacker, my mind has been going in circles. I always knew something was off about that broad, but frankly, I thought the worst she was capable of doing would be rolling a baby stroller into Escala.
If any one of those submissives would've been able to get one over on Grey, and pop out his spawn accidentally on purpose, it would've been her. Hope she's in Hell servicing Satan, wearing a chastity belt outfitted with two pears of anguish.
To think, Grey hightailed it back to Seattle to save that ungrateful bitch's life only for her to pose a threat to Ms Steele. She likely wasn't in danger to begin with, and her timing was suspect. For years, radio silence for the most part, but as soon as Grey was photographed with a beautiful companion, she cried out for help. The irony wasn't lost on me.
I had briefly wondered why William's identity hadn't ended up on the police report, but Grey said Ms Steele wanted her buried in an unmarked grave. He seemed a bit put out about that, but surely he could understand Ms Steele had other, more benevolent motives.
If she wanted to hurt Grey badly, really make him bleed, all she had to do to unleash an unceasing shitstorm is give the cops Leila's name. Because they wouldn't stop digging until they struck the motherlode. Ms Steele basically perjured the fuck out herself just to honor the spirit of his stupid NDA. They're digging hard now, but add in a psychotic sub living out her fatal attraction and the floodgates would never close.
Grey, unsurprisingly, still believes he has this all under control, but power in this situation is an illusion. Especially considering his lifestyle. Everything is a scene to him. Lights. Camera. Action. He thinks he's the director, but all the actresses are provided to him by Elena's production company, and she kept them on a tighter leash than he did.
And there's just simply no way he can control her. He imagines that they're friends, when in fact she's his master. He meets her almost every other week to talk business. But Esclava is undoubtedly his least profitable investment. She must be the worst business mentee, because in terms of his overall income, his proceeds from Esclava remain barely a drop in the bucket.
All Mrs Lincoln has to do is crook her finger for her little puppets to dance to her tune. Meanwhile, Grey provides these tricks with cars, condos, wardrobes, and jewelry. He even pays for their spa services so His Mother Superior can wax their bits to his specification.
If that's not just the nastiest thing, she's dating a guy the boss's age. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with May-December romance unless, as I suspect, she fucked Grey before his pubes had grown in. It would explain her enduring influence over this usually rather sagacious man. He had a huge blindspot for her. If only he'd let us perform a full investigation.
Sometimes I wonder if she's the reason he practices BDSM the way he does. If he'd learned it from her. I've never heard them talk about it, but sometimes the proprietary way she looks at him, the way she touches him, leaning into his space to kiss his cheek, makes me very uncomfortable.
I wondered how his parents didn't see it. How could they be so comfortable with her? She's had so much work done that she seems embalmed. But that doesn't keep her from wearing clothes only appropriate for women at least 20 years younger than she.
Not that she doesn't keep herself up; she's remarkably well preserved. But I can tell she pays a whole lot of money to maintain that image. She'll probably suffer botox poison soon, God willing.
Next time we go to the hospital, I'd refuse to let Gray take over. I could tell Ana was very uncomfortable before. Shamefully, I found myself locating a contact to get us in. But she couldn't smuggle us in until after Ms Steele had been in her coma for two days. Damn were those the longest 48 hours I'd ever spent on this Earth. Grey's impatience was off the charts.
Anastasia was asleep, and when she woke, she was exhausted and groggy. But instead of asking her how she was or what had happened, Grey instantly began trying to figure out if it was Jose Rodriguez who had attacked her.
I didn't even understand how he could even consider Jose a possible love interest for Ana. Sure, he may have kissed her against her will, but I had never sensed that type of rage in him. And besides, Ana lived. If Jose had perpetrated that brutal attack, and he had survived, her father Raymond Steele would have finished him. It got even worse, as Steele had to identify someone he had been led to believe was his daughter, only to find out that it wasn't. The hospital had only told him that his daughter was in the morgue.
Unfortunately, they had not told him that his 'other' daughter was in the emergency room fighting for her life. It cost the Steele family over an hour in which he could've at least been, if not directly at Ms Steele's side, praying in the waiting room. It had been a massive shitshow in every possible regard. Steele should own this hospital for what they put him through. I'm sure he was distraught. If anything like this had happened to Sophie, I don't know what I'd do.
Grey decided that he was just going to spend every night there standing vigil. It's too late, the bitch is dead. Although if he had sense, he'd realize that some of those other subs and Sub-Zero herself might come gunning for Ana, too. But he's not going to be showing that degree of introspection; that would be far too easy.
At least in her dreams Ana could see. She's blind. She can barely detect light or shadow. Grey hasn't made it any easier with his army of fembots at the ready. Did he actually believe that they still had some type of relationship?
If so how? According to him, he didn't do love, hearts and flowers as he calls it he just does money, hard fucking and secrecy. The only woman he's ever been seen with besides the Bride of Frankenstein, his mother and his sister Mia, is Miss Steele.
He painted a huge, flashing target on her back and then treated her like shit. I don't understand how he could be surprised that she had decided to leave. She wept all the way to her apartment. Maybe she wasn't on her p's and q's when Miss Williams arrived.
We still don't know the full details or at least he didn't tell me everything she shared. But I have to wonder what she left out, because I'm sure she did, as anyone with sense would keep something in their quiver to prick his ass with later.
At least Grey showed the initiative to set up a payment plan for all of her medical expenses, but Rodriguez had already beat him to it by dedicating the proceeds from his photo show to support his friend in her time of need.
I was reminded of the parable of the rich man and the poor man. Who gave more? The rich man who could afford almost anything or the poor man who gave the majority of what he had? Of course that very night Grey went to the art show and bought every photo of Ana.
We'd actually found out in the interim that Kate Kavanagh had indeed shown back up after leaving Barbados with Elliot to rush to Ana's side. The only problem with that is that Kate wasn't nearly as anxious to be there as Elliot was. Some friend! Ms Steele seemed to have bent over backwards to help her friend all the time, but the first moment she actually needed assistance, there's none to be found except for Jose and Elliot. Eamon, Celeste and Ethan Kavanagh intended to return home on the next flight, prematurely ending their vacation. The only person pissed about these developments was Ana's supposed best friend of four years.
That just goes to show you surprising things can happen, and we shouldn't rush to judgment. Her father spent as much time as possible by his daughter's side; they're waiting on the prognosis. The nurse I spoke to doesn't seem to hold out much hope. They said that Ms Steele has been subjected to many tests and they can't find the cause, although her scans reveal a shocking history of trauma similar to shaken baby syndrome.
How could this have happened? Her father adores her, stepfather that is, and she seems to get along well with her mother, though I found it interesting that she missed out on Ms Steele's college graduation to take care of her new husband who had injured his foot. From her background check, I discovered her father had been a soldier too, who died the day she was born. Her mother's been through a few husbands. I'd hate to think that anyone could have abused that girl, but the proof is in the brain scans. And according to her X-rays, she has suffered a broken bone or two. Funny that those injuries never made it on the background check.
Right now, Grey is upstairs finding places to mount his framed portraits. They are huge, candid poses of extreme happiness, peace, faux anger, contemplation and abandon. She didn't seem to experience much of that here. Although, I can say that Grey has been much happier if not utterly confused by his feelings for this new woman. Personally I never realized he was capable of such.
I knew he gave a lot to charity, believed in feeding the hungry and supported his mother in all her charitable endeavors. I considered him a pretty wonderful corporate citizen, and to be fair he's a great employer. He pays very well. But I believed we earned every penny of it. We were always on call. Until Grey got what he needed, our day was never done.
My in at the hospital finally returned my call. But instead of Jen's voice, the slightly breathless tones of Ms Steele greeted me. Too bad Grey had requested that I put the call on speaker.
"Hey Taylor, if the guys ask, tell them I need a couple days of peace and quiet. I'm feeling a bit yellow," she stated.
I almost grinned at Ms Steele's clever delivery until I saw Grey's stricken expression. He had pressed his lips together so tightly in his paling face, before he turned around and left the room, slamming his office door behind him.
"Is he gone?" she asked seriously. Had she planned this outcome?
"Yes, he just left," I replied curiously.
"Good, I don't have long to talk," she whispered hurriedly. "Your nurse is standing outside the room guarding the door. The police have questioned everyone who has visited me. I don't want Christian to be on their radar any more than he is. I think they might give up in a few days. We'll see. Taylor, I don't hate him. I just wish—" she trailed off sadly.
I could imagine the rest. I wish I could see. I wish he didn't need that room. I wish Grey had warned me. I wish he hadn't lied to me. I wish he wasn't so afraid of more. I wish Christian wasn't such a closed off asshole so I could have someone to hold me right now in my darkest hour.
"Yeah," I replied lowly, "I understand."
I left the breakfast bar to beard the beast in his lair, but as I turned the knob, his phone rang. As I entered the room, I heard him say "Hello Elena."
He was chatting with the Wicked Witch of the Northwest. I would share Ms Steele's final message later. I shut the door and returned to my residence. I was sure I'd be summoned later.