Bleed
Chapter 5: In my head
Monday evening.
'I'm a victim of love,' Ana joked.
'Of obsession, more accurately,' Kate cynically replied.
'Maybe he thinks it's romantic?' Ana suggested, eyeing the pile of gift boxes in front of their apartment. Kate sighed.
'Giving you crap you clearly said you don't want is the opposite of romantic. It's fucked up. He is fucked up,' she pointed out. Fifty shades of fucked up, Ana thought. Why hadn't she listened when he'd said that? Why had that not alarmed her? Why had her reaction been: oh, you poor baby? That was not an appropriate response. Why had she not thought: get the hell away from me? What was wrong with her?
'I knew that before. He told me. This is my fault,' Ana mumbled. Kate shook her head and gently squeezed Ana's shoulder.
'Hey, none of this is your fault. Nobody is making him do this. He told you that he was dangerous? And that you should stay away from him?'
Ana's head snapped up. She hadn't shared that with Kate.
'How did you know?'
'It's textbook. He tells you that to relieve himself of responsibility. Whatever he does after that is then your fault for not leaving. Be honest: did he blame you when he hurt you?' Kate inquired. Ana squirmed. This felt like a real interrogation and in all likelihood Kate wasn't even aware of doing it. The journalist inside her just never switched off. I wish I had a journalist inside of me, Ana thought. Okay, not like that, she amended. She wagered that an investigative journalist would be more useful than a horny inner goddess and a prudish subconscious.
'Can we talk about something else, please?' Ana requested. Kate took pity on her and turned her attention towards their cluttered doorstep again.
'So, you don't want to keep any of this?' she asked, indicating the gift boxes with a sweeping gesture. Ana had opened a few of them. They contained clothes, electronica, jewellery and books.
'I'd really rather not,' Ana admitted. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Christian that she didn't want anything from him. The fact that he hadn't respected her wishes came as no surprise. Just the sight of all of this stuff made Ana feel nauseous. What a waste!
'Fair enough,' Kate said. 'What are you going to do with it? Return it?'
'I did that with the flowers and he didn't get the message. I'm done. I don't want to expend any more time and energy on this than is absolutely necessary. Do you know if there's a thrift store nearby?'
Kate snickered and nodded. Together, they started to load as much of the boxes into Kate's car as it would hold. It was a tight fit, but, luckily, they managed to get every single one in there. The thrift store personnel was super happy with their donation.
'There was a laptop in there. And your Blackberry. That's a lot of money.'
'He's filthy rich. I doubt he'll even notice. Oh, that reminds me. I need to buy a new phone,' Ana remarked. They stopped on the way home to get one. On the road again, Kate was still on the subject of the gifts.
'Don't you think Christian is going to be pissed off?' she cautiously brought up.
'Probably. Everything pisses him off,' Ana said flippantly. She wasn't quite feeling the devil may care attitude she was projecting. When would this be over?
(***)
Back at the apartment, Kate focused on Ana with laser like precision and intensity. It was simultaneously awe-inspiring and scary.
'Okay, I know that you basically told me to shut up, but I think that we should talk about this. I want to make sure that you know that all of this is not okay. The bruises on your arm are not okay. Christian harassing you at work is not okay. Those gifts are not okay,' Kate summed up.
'I know,' Ana mumbled.
'But do you really?'
Kate's scepticism was almost tangible. Ana rolled her eyes.
'Christian wants control over everything. It's a BDSM thing….'
'No!' Kate exclaimed, startling Ana.
'It doesn't mean jack shit that he's into BDSM. He doesn't get to do anything without your consent. If you don't agree to punishment, like when he grabbed your arm, it's physical abuse. If you do agree to the punishment, he still has to follow the rules outlined in the contract. Otherwise, it's abuse. If he ignores a safe word, it's – say it with me! – abuse. And that also goes for all of the emotional manipulation he's subjected you to. It's not BDSM and it's not okay. Please don't let him fool you or guilt trip you into thinking anything else. God, I wish you'd gone to the police. It's not too late. We could still go. I'd come with you.'
It hadn't been that bad, Ana thought. Sure, it had been bad, but not let's-involve-the-police bad. Furthermore, there had been extenuating circumstances.
'You don't understand, Kate. The first few years of Christian's life were really rough,' Ana explained. Rendered momentarily speechless, Kate sat down. Well, it was more like she fell over and a chair happened to be behind her. She seemed actually winded, as if someone had punched her in the stomach, robbing her of oxygen for a minute. Finally, she recovered and spoke.
'You know who else had an awful childhood and managed to come out the other end miraculously not an asshole? Elliot.'
Ana stared at her best friend. That obviously couldn't be true.
'But Elliot's normal,' Ana protested, adding a tentative, 'He is normal, right?'
'No one's normal, but I know what you mean. Oh, he's got a few kinks, so plenty of kinky fuckery for me. But he doesn't inflict his misery on others like Christian does. Elliot is well-adjusted. He wasn't always, though. He worked hard to overcome his issues. I think the difference between Elliot and Christian is that Elliot realises that a troubled childhood does not absolve him from any wrongdoing. He's an adult and as such he, and he alone, is responsible for his actions. Plus, I wouldn't put up with any shit and he knows it.'
'But I thought you loved him?' Ana whispered.
'I do, very much, but it's not a given. If Elliot tried to pull any of the crap Christian pulled with you, I'd leave him in a heartbeat. Don't look so shocked, Ana. Just because I demand to be treated with respect doesn't mean that I don't love him. Unconditional love is for suckers.'
Now Ana had to sit down too. Loving someone didn't mean staying with them no matter what? So, she hadn't failed? Because honestly: she had talked the tough talk and walked the tough walk, but she hadn't felt tough. She'd felt like a loser. Like she hadn't loved Christian enough.
And here was Elliot. Who was nice. To everyone. Who worshiped Kate and didn't try to run her life. How could that be? Did Christian know about Elliot's childhood? No, Christian doesn't know, Ana realised. He thought that Elliot was a buffoon who'd had an easy life. Ana looked at Kate.
'Christian thinks that Elliot is…'
'Dumb?' Kate provided. Ana nodded, apologetically.
'Yeah, we know. Christian thinks that Elliot is an idiot and Elliot knows that Christian is a jerk.'
'Well…,' Ana said. 'I need to process this.'
'You do that,' Kate agreed, getting to her feet and walking over to the bookcase. She appeared to be searching for something specific. Eventually, she plucked a book from its shelves and presented it to Ana. Curious, Ana studied the book. It was called The Gift of Fear: Survival Signs That Protect Us From Violence and was written by Gavin de Becker.
'I'm going to give you something now. Read it when you're ready. I sincerely hope that your life will never be the same again after reading it,' Kate announced with an air of solemnity, handing the book to Ana. Bemused, Ana nodded. Kate was a great friend. I'm sure she'd like to be having sex with Elliot right now, Ana thought; and instead she is educating me about suitable boyfriend behaviour. Feeling a little guilty about cramping Kate's style, Ana vowed to move out soon.
'About me living here: I'll find a new job and my own apartment. I'll be out of your hair in no time, I promise.'
Kate waved that away.
'Pff, what's the rush? You can stay as long as you want. It's fine.'
(***)
Tuesday.
Ana arrived at work earlier than usual, because she wanted to apologise to Claire and explain what to do if Christian tried to interfere with her work again.
'I'm sorry about yesterday, Claire.'
'Oh, it's okay. I don't mind,' Claire immediately responded.
'That's nice of you to say, but it's not okay. You shouldn't have to deal with my personal life. I hope that it won't happen again, but it might. If anyone shows up here today on a non-SIP related matter, please tell them that they will not be seeing me or speaking to me. I don't care who it is. If they're not here for business, they can leave their card with you if they want to, but that's it,' Ana instructed. Turning to leave, she heard Claire cough discreetly and Ana swivelled to face the receptionist.
'What if it's Mr. Grey himself?'
'Frankly, Claire, I don't give a damn. Tell him the same thing you tell everyone else,' Ana replied. It gave her a kick to say that, however impractical it was as advice. Christian acted like he owned the company. He would barge right past Claire. We'll cross that hurdle when we get to it, Ana thought.
Tuesday passed without incidents. Christian didn't attempted to contact her again, which Ana found disconcerting. She knew him, after all. He wouldn't give up that easily. Rhett Butler, though definitely pushy, had nothing on Christian Grey.
(***)
Wednesday morning.
The time on the alarm clock indicated that Ana should have been out of bed half an hour ago. I must have forgotten to set the alarm, she thought. She scrambled out of bed with an uneasy feeling. Something was not the way it was supposed to be. Unable to find an explanation for her apprehension, Ana chalked it up to having just woken up and hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower. She glanced into the mirror. Well, it started out as a glance, but what she saw made her come to a halt in front of the mirror.
He was here, Ana thought. A frisson of fear ran down her spine.
'Don't be stupid,' she mumbled. There was a perfectly rational explanation for this. She'd had a few drinks the night before and she'd forgotten. Except, she vividly remembered every little thing she'd done in preparation for sleep. She had routines that were almost rituals and she rarely deviated from them. Still, there had to be a ridiculously simple solution for this, because this was ridiculous. People didn't do this. People didn't break laws to do something this silly. Gripping the sink with whitening knuckles, willing herself to believe that this was not Christian's doing, Ana stared at her wide-eyed reflection.
Her hair had been loose when she'd gone to bed; but it was now in a braid.