War of Words
Ana's POV:
Christian refuses to put me down until the elevator doors open, and we enter his suite. My blood is boiling at the way he has handled me, and now I am regretting not screaming and kicking the hotel down, once we are alone. Christian is fuming and starts to glare at me so intensely that I wouldn't be surprised if he internally combusted. Though after a few minutes, I start to wonder if I am the one who will burst into flames. If looks could kill then I would be a fatality; however, two can play his game.
"Anastasia, what do you have to say for yourself?" Christian scolds. My jaw drops at his self-righteous indignation. He is treating me like a badly behaved six year old and ignoring the fact that he has acted like a child!
"Excuse me?" I ask to have him clarify his position.
"Surely you have something to say about your movements and poor choices over the past sixteen hours. This is your chance to try and account for your actions before I really lose it!"
"Looks like you have lost it already," I tell him grinning. He will not get the better of me!
"Trust me Anastasia; you haven't seen how angry I can get. Now, for the last time, what do you have to say for yourself? This is your one and only chance to respond," Christian looks forbidding, and I know he is trying to intimidate me.
"My chance to respond, hey?" I repeat, failing to stifle my laugh. "Since you offered," I briskly walk toward Christian but stop once I am only inches away from him. I raise my hand and run my knuckles over his well-defined jaw line and then perfectly shaped lips. I look up at him, never taking my eyes off of him and let him get lost in my eyes. I take his right hand and place it on my left breast, prompting him to squeeze it gently. Christian is still thermo-nuclear, but I know the combination of our close proximity, my small sensual touches, my too skimpy bikini and my placement of his hand is affecting him exactly how I want.
"Anastasia…," Christian cries my name softly and shakes his head. Playful and thermonuclear Christian simultaneously. An interesting mix.
I wait for the perfect moment, when I know Christian is about to kiss me. At the exact moment that we become engulfed in each other electricity, I then quickly raise my right hand and slap it across Christian Grey's face. Hard. Or at least as hard as I am physically capable of. The sound of my hand coming into contact with his perfectly sculptured face seems to echo across the room. I wait for Christian's response, which I would have thought would have been instantaneous but instead he doesn't move a muscle. Christian looks at me broodingly and processes my impulsive reply. I stand my ground. My heart is telling me to walk out, but my head is telling me to stay put and prove to Mr. Master of the Universe that I am a force to reckon with.
After what feels likes hours of tense silence though in reality is probably only a minute or two, Christian turns on his heel and walks out of the room. Finally, alone, I silently cry out, and I rub my hand. Damn it hurts. Who knew slapping someone would hurt so much! I resume my resilient stance, hiding my discomfort, when I hear Christian walking back into the room. His demeanor hasn't changed as he briskly walks toward me. Christian takes my hand, inspects it and then presses an icepack against it.
"Oowww," I call out, unable to conceal my pain as the ice pack heightens my pain at first, but then offers some desperately needed relief.
"Seriously Anastasia, you are the most infuriating and obstinate woman in the world!"
"The same adjective could be applied to you," I argue back. Christian seemingly ignores me and reinspects my hand.
"We are going to have to keep this ice pack on your hand for awhile."
We? "I can manage," I pull my sore hand away from Christian and hold my other hand out, waiting for him to place the ice pack in it.
"Just keep the ice pack pressed against on your hand, or else I will." He threatens exasperated, before finally handing over the icepack. "Sit down; I will get you some Advil." Christian doesn't wait for me to respond and quickly returns with a glass of water and the pills.
"I don't need any pain killers. The ice is helping."
"Anastasia, just take the pills," Christian looks pensive.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you in any unnecessary pain," Christian looks momentarily uncomfortable with his statement.
"But you do. I know what you want me to agree to. I have studied the BDSM contract in detail."
"That wouldn't be ….. unnecessary," I scoff at the ease of his statement. How can he make such a distinction?
"How is your face? Did I hurt you?" I inquire. My hand is still sore, so I figure I must have hurt him even a little.
"I think it is apparent that you injured your hand more than you hurt me," I roll my eyes in the most dramatic fashion. "It is very rude to roll your eyes. It makes me want to….," Christian suddenly stops, as if he has put his sentiments on hold.
"Want to what?" I ask.
"Spank you," Christian admits after a moment of silent.
"You are abysmal. I am the one that deserves to be angry!" I retaliate.
"You are angry at me? Well, Miss Steele, I doubt that it would be comparable to how furious I am at you. I am the one in this relationship that had to drop everything at home to flyover 2,149 miles to the other side of the country and then discover I needed to turn back and fly another 1,719 miles in the opposite direction to Las Vegas."
I can't help but smile deviously at his detailed statistical description of my little wild goose chase. I wasn't completely sure if Christian would chase after me. I thought he would have learnt that I had come to Vegas as opposed to Georgia somehow, but as luck had it, my 'don't lie to me' plan worked to perfection.
"How can you even say that?" I mutter
"I can have my pilot, Stephen, confirm the miles we traveled if you doubt me," Christian hisses aggravated.
"Not that. I am referring to your indication 'as a person in this relationship.' We do not have a relationship," Christian narrows his eyes, and his lips form a hard line at my statement.
"Anastasia, we do have a relationship, even if its parameters are extremely loose and need comprehensive deliberation. Currently, we need to discuss the matter of your deceit!" Christian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He swiftly presses several buttons and holds up my most recent texts message and my rather naughty picture to him.
"You have given me a lot of mixed messages lately. When I got home yesterday evening this is not what I found waiting for me. You would agree with me now that it is you instead of me that needs to explain themselves first," Christian disputes.
"You lied to me, and I did the same to you," I shrug. "Fair is fair."
"You do not realise how you make me feel. I swear you won't sit for a week the way you are going."
"You don't have the paperwork," I point out in my defense.
"And never have I ever hated paper as much as I do now." My frustration now matches Christian's. We are getting nowhere fast.
"You lied to me about where you were going on Wednesday evening and about where my best friend was staying the night, to conceal your dishonesty further. Kate and I talk about everything. There was no way I wasn't going to find out sooner or later. You should have told me!" I want to remain unemotional and rational, but I can feel the hate and sadness in my voice mounting up.
"Anastasia, I couldn't take you to my parents' house. I am not Elliot," Christian sounds resigned, running his hands frantically through his hair.
"Christian it would have been ridiculous for me to go to your parents' house for dinner. I have known you for five minutes, and we don't even know where we stand with each other. My issue is that you lied to me at Escala, and you continued to lie to me about where you were in your text messages to me throughout the evening. You treated me like a second-class citizen. I won't tolerate it."
"Anastasia, I would never treat you as a second-class citizen, in fact, I would do the exact opposite. I want to make sure you are cared for. I can give you so much pleasure." Christian tries to sway me, sounding sincere, almost.
"But kept secret," I add. Christian looks at me dumbfounded. He just doesn't get it.
"It's the way the game is played. I have never lied to you about this fact. This is an aspect of our relationship that I can't budge on." Christian is right. He has always been honest. I hold my hand out forcing him begrudgingly to stop talking.
"Then let me save you some time and effort. Goodbye and good luck," I lean over and kiss Christian one last time on his cheek. I stand up, but he grabs my hand tightly.
"Anastasia, what are you talking about?" I sigh and turn to face him.
"Christian, I know that you intend on ending our relationship… or non-existent relationship to be exact. I am aware that you are not interested in me. You don't need to wait to tell me. I get it, now if you would kindly let go of my hand," I allow my anger to cover emotions that I didn't know I had. I never thought I could start to feel so much for someone I have known for such a short time.
"What are you talking about?" Christian looks at me confused. I don't want to implicate Elliot and Kate, nor do I want to negatively impact their relationship, or Christian and Elliot's. I need to leave, to walk out.
"Let go of my hand," I request one more time.
"No. Ana, I don't want you to leave. I want you to come back with me. I have the company jet waiting. I will have Taylor go and find your mother to tell her that you are returning to Seattle." Christian looks his usual confident self now that he thinks; he starting to regain some control. Control, is his essential need.
"No. I am staying. I will return to Seattle on Sunday morning," I reply, strongly. Christian runs his hands through his hair again and then harshly looks at me.
"Anastasia, what do you want from me?"
"All the things that I doubt you want to give me," I inform him, reconciled to the fact that I can never have the kind of relationship I want, with this man. He has lied; manhandled me and treated me poorly.
"You want more?" Christian mumbles. I nod confidently. "Impossible woman."
"Goodbye Christian," I restate.
"Anastasia, if you walk out of here, we can never be together. It is over," Christian warns me. His eyes are a burning Grey color, and he looks out of his depth. Hasn't he ever had a woman walkout on him?
"Christian, did this, whatever it is, ever really start?" He stands there looking at me with his Grey eyes and doesn't speak as I walk out. I close the door to the suite and tears start to build up in my eyes. I look back at the door; I just closed and place my hand on it. Stop it Ana, stop your pity party for one. He was never yours in the beginning.
Authors Note: I know this chapter wasn't very long, but it was appropriate to end it here. I am working on the next chapter right now. I hope you enjoyed it!