Who Shot the Bitch Troll?

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Chapter 11

Christian

As we drive back home, I look at young Sarah, age fourteen, almost fifteen. She is an innocent little girl, tall and awkward. That was I once. That was the child that Elena tempted into a lifestyle of deviant sexual behavior. They are all right. Elena was a child molester. If any man tried to do that to this innocent, little angel, I would kill him with my bare hands. I understand Ana's anger and loathing towards her.

Until I met Ana, until I was healed by her gentle, unconditional love, I might not have believed that I was ever such an innocent. I had seen myself as inherently wicked, undeserving of the love that my family offered, deserving only of the abuse that Elena delivered. When she knew that she had captivated me with her cruelty mixed with violent sex, Elena knew that she owned me. Or she did until her husband discovered our secret.

But having spent a second day on the slopes with these three lovely, alive, and precocious girls, I realize that they are living out a childhood that I had denied myself. My parents tried so hard to bring into the inner circle of the family. It was I who put myself on the outside. The three of them laugh and tease together. There were three of us, Elliot, Mia, and me. But I never let them close enough to experience this kind of special bond.

It wasn't that we didn't laugh and tease among ourselves, it was just that I placed hard limits on what and when Elliot or Mia could say something. Elliot was, is, and will always be the class clown of the family. He dares to say things to me that no one else would. And I let him, but only up to a point. And Mia pouts and gently teases in order to get around my moods, but even with her there are limits. While I would never have told her to "fuck off," as I have so many times with Elliot, I would escape from her to glower on my own.

It is also obvious that the Price girls have secrets. Secrets that they share between themselves and keep from their parents. But I only had my own secrets. I secretly felt unworthy of my family. I secretly was obsessed with the beautiful, older woman who promised to fix me. Ana swears that she only made things worse for me. Perhaps she did. Instead of installing true self-esteem, she reinforced my self-loathing.

At least, that is what Flynn tells me, in not so many words. Flynn has given up trying to lecture me, but rather has begun to guide towards drawing these conclusions for myself. I will give him credit. He is pretty subtle and crafty as to how he goes about it. In fact, sometimes I don't even realize it until after I have left his office. Once upon a time ago, this might have pissed me off. Now I accept it as a new business model.

When we come in from skiing this afternoon, the wives are sitting in front of the fire drinking tea again. Mrs. Bentley has been baking, shortbread cookies this time. Naturally the girls make a beeline for them and each grab a handful before scooting up to their room for showers. I offer Chris and Melissa hot toddies to warm up. Melissa declines.

"I hadn't been aware that you were a tee-totaler the last time we saw you," I comment.

She and Ana exchange one of their "we've got a secret" glances that I have discovered that women often make in front of men. But then I notice that Chris is grinning too.

"Okay," I sigh. "What does everyone else know that I don't?"

"Melissa is pregnant!" Ana says happily. "She's due two months after I am!"

I am not exactly sure of what to say to that. A baby? What does that mean for us? Will it be a boy or a girl? If it's a boy, does that mean that Chris will lose interest in me? Oh, it why should I care? After all, I don't consider him my father anyway, do I? A barrage of conflicting emotions hit me and I need to sit down.

Ana, Melissa, and Chris are all watching me carefully, trying to assess my reaction. I feel lost. Finally, Melissa takes pity on me and speaks, trying to lighten the tone.

"I know that I'm over forty," she says kindly. "But that's not too old. And we have been trying for a fourth child ever since Katie was born."

"What do the girls think?" I ask, trying to take the focus off myself.

"They're thrilled of course," answers Melissa. "They're hoping for a little brother."

"Oh," I say, not sure of how to process that. But of course, they've probably wanted a little brother for years. And they've already said that I don't feel like a brother to them. Hell, I don't feel as if I'm their brother. I'm Elliot and Mia's brother. I know that Chris has always wanted a son. What man doesn't? But I haven't been able to acknowledge him as a father. I can see that he is closely watching me.

"Christian," he says kindly. "I'm not sure of how I feel about my relationship, whatever it is. I think of you as Ella's son, and my own. I look at you and I see you. Your facial features really are quite similar. I love you, as any parent naturally loves a child, but you are not a child. You are really too old, your identity is too fully developed, for us to have anything approaching a father-son relationship. That's not what I'm looking for . . . I know that I'm not explaining this very well, but . . . "

"I think that Chris is also trying to say that he doesn't want to frighten you off," continues Melissa. "We know that if we come on too strong, or if he does, then you will dismiss us from your life forever."

"I wouldn't do that," I say immediately, without really thinking.

The other three look back at me in surprise. But then I remember our first meeting, when I cursed the whole idea to high heaven . . . and Melissa threatened to wash my mouth out with soap. Unconsciously, I move over to sit beside Ana and rest my hand on her belly. I feel a good solid kick. Of approval?

"I think that he's trying to tell you something," says Ana softly.

I can see that she has interpreted it the same way. The mood is broken when Emily and Katie come galloping downstairs.

"Can we have hot chocolate?" asks Emily.

"With marshmallows?" finishes Katie. "Sarah's not ready yet."

"It's too close to dinner," replies Melissa. "And you've already had cookies."

"But we want a hot drink to warm us up," whines Emily.

"How about some hot apple cider?" asks Mrs. Bentley, who must have heard the ruckus.

"With cinnamon sticks?" asks Katie.

"I think that I could manage that," she answers with a smile. "Can I get anyone else a mug?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Bentley," replies Ana. "We're good and I believe that Chris and Christian have warmed themselves up nicely with their hot toddies."

"Very good, Mrs. Grey," she says, with a nod, and turns to go into the kitchen.

"I must compliment you on your wonderful staff, Ana," says Melissa. "They are all wonderfully devoted."

"And they speak English," adds Katie.

"Our staff speaks English," corrects Emily.

"Nuh-huh," contradicts Katie. "We don't have staff like Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Bentley. Our staff has names like Gabriela and Teresa. And they speak Spanish when they're not talking to us."

Melissa frowns at them.

"This isn't about language, girls," she says. "We've had some wonderful help over the years, but they don't tend to stick around."

"I can't take credit for our staff," interjects Ana, sensing a potential dispute. "So far all of them have been hired by Christian."

"I pay them well enough," I shrug. "I suspect that the larger Hispanic population in California means that more household staff are native Spanish speakers."

"All our friends have Mexican maids and gardeners," says Sarah as she enters the room. "Some of them even have green cards."

"All of our staff have green cards," says Chris sternly. "And they have health insurance and everything else that they need."

"So girls," says Melissa, obviously wanting to change the subject. "How does the skiing here compare with Tahoe?"

And the rush to put out opinions begins. Once again, I am amazed by how easily the girls' attention can be diverted to safer topics.

Later that night, as I join Ana in bed, I lie down beside her and pull her close to me. As has become the norm, as I put my arm around her, I can feel our son moving.

"Does that ever make you uncomfortable?" I ask curiously.

"Not right now," she answers sleepily. "But I have been reliably informed that when he gets bigger, he'll be kicking my ribs and keeping me up. And by the end of the day, I will be tired from carrying him all over."

"Was it Melissa who informed you?"

"Yes, she did," she yawns. "It certainly wasn't my mother. And I don't know anyone else who has had a baby closely enough to ask those kinds of questions to. Melissa has become a good friend. She's not motherly like Grace or Gail, but she's easy to confide in."

"You don't view Carla as motherly?" I ask, interested.

"Not really," she says. "You know she was very young when she had me, just barely twenty. And I was an unplanned pregnancy. There are times when I've asked her if I ruined her life, you know, by forcing her to marry my father so young and then have the responsibility for raising me. But she always says no."

"Why didn't she and Ray have any children?" I ask.

"I don't know," she admits. "I've never been able to get a straight answer out of either of them. I guess that's why I've always wondered if I didn't ruin her life. You know, you would think that if she hadn't had me so young she would have wanted more children."

"So then, I guess that you could say that both of us were unplanned pregnancies," I muse.

"You could because we were," she replies logically. "But I was luckier. Carla told Frank, my birth father. Then when Frank died, she was lucky to find Ray pretty quickly, so there was someone to take care of us. Your birth mother wasn't nearly as lucky."

"She was only a year younger than Carla was when she had me," I comment.

"But Carla was a high school graduate and out working," she says. "And my father was in the Marines. He had the income to support her and provide for the medical care she needed. Ella was a scared high school senior. Chris didn't even know about it, but even if he did, what could he have done?"

"So I guess that both of us are a pretty good advertisement for birth control," I answer, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

Ana looks up at me wearily. I know that she is tired, but she needs to say what she needs to say.

"Yesterday, when we were talking," she says quietly. "Melissa put things into perspective for me. In a couple of weeks, her doctor is insisting that she has to have an amniocentesis because she's over forty. She doesn't want to because she said that no matter what the results are, she is going to keep the baby. Then she said that God doesn't make mistakes.

"So if you think about it, neither of us was a mistake either. Just because our parents didn't plan to have us, it doesn't diminish our lives in any way. And just think, if it hadn't been for those unplanned pregnancies, then there wouldn't have been this one. Now that I am used to the idea. I can't think what our lives would be like without him."

I feel another solid kick and gently rub her stomach.

"Neither can I," I answer softly.

I am rewarded by another kick. I can see that as well a being a strong boy. He is a smart one. Ana cuddles in close to me and I assume my nighttime protective position. I think about how Ella must have felt during those months when she was sleeping alone, with no husband or boyfriend to keep her safe. She must have been so lonely and frightened. And she must have been very confused. I can see now that I'm very lucky that she didn't view me as a mistake.

I am beginning to realize that it isn't really fair for me to question her judgment or her choices. Ana has fallen into a deep sleep. Her breathing is even and she is smiling softly. Her hand is lying on her belly, where is always does when she sleeps now. I try to imagine a scenario where she suddenly lost me, all of our families, and all of our money. What would happen if she had to face the world alone with Blip? Would she give him up for adoption because she didn't have the means to raise him?

Of course, she wouldn't. And if, God forbid, anything was to happen to her and I was in the same position, would I ever give him away to someone else to raise? What would happen if by some circumstance, we were separated and I only discovered this boy, this son, ten years, or maybe twenty years, later? Would I approach him with the same love and kindness with which Chris is approaching me? Or would I barrel in claiming what is mine and demanding his return to his rightful parent?

What would be the right response? It is in this moment of clarity that I can see what Flynn has been harking on for the past few months. I would never be able to move forward in my emotional growth until I had developed a capacity for empathy. As I put myself in Chris's shoes right now, I believe that I have truly discovered the meaning of that word.

Once upon a time, I was a little Blip. I was an unplanned predicament for my mother. For years I have taken the moral high ground from her, viewing her bad choices and mistakes as an intrinsic failure on her part to love me. Yet what was my instant reaction when Ana told me that she was pregnant. I rejected my child and abandoned my wife. I left her vulnerable so that she did not come to me when Hyde kidnapped Mia. As a result of my stubborn stupidity, I nearly lost them both.

But I didn't. Some force, God perhaps, gave me a second chance to make things right for them, for us. As I lie here cradling my beautiful wife, I am aware that I hold two lives, two most precious lives, in my arms. This child did not occur through some kind of weird immaculate conception. No, this child is a part of me and a part of her. That is where he came from. That is why he is here.

And off in one of the other bedrooms, sleeps the man who gave me the precious gift of life. He loves me, yet asks for nothing more from me than a place in a little corner of my life. He loves me unselfishly, unconditionally, and without judgment. He knows me and all my flaws. I can learn from this man. I can learn to be a better father and a better husband from this man. His influence in my life neither supersedes nor negates Carrick's, the man who raised me.

What would I do without Ana? She has shown me that love is expansive and all-inclusive. The more love that one gives, the more he receives. I am not sorry that Elena hunted down my birth father. It may be the only favor that she ever did for me in my life. It is odd that so much good can come from such an evil intention. I know that she did it to hurt Grace and Carrick, but I hope that she failed. I will do my best to make sure that she failed.

Gail

No sooner have we landed in Seattle, than I am wishing that we had never left Las Vegas. It is a funny thing, since I have not developed any particular fondness for Las Vegas. However, given a choice between the two, Las Vegas would be it this afternoon. I want to go back to those sweet, uncomplicated days that we shared there.

Our marriage ceremony was simple. Neither of us wanted anything more than the exchange of vows and rings. Following that we went for dinner and an evening show and then back to our suite for the wedding night. Despite the fact that we had shared many nights of lovemaking before, this time was very special. There was that knowledge that this time we consummating the promises made with our words, with our bodies.

Neither of us has the taste for the more adventurous sexual activities of our employers. Perhaps it is because we are older and each of us married before. Those kinds of games hold no appeal for me. I have always preferred the tender, sensitive lovemaking of both of my husbands. I suppose that those who know Jason as the strong, silent guardian of the mighty Christian Grey would be surprised to find out that he is a gentle lover.

Those who share a depth of feeling and likeness of mind such as we do, find great pleasure in the slow, unhurried pace of sensual foreplay leading up to intense climax. Jason and I have never had the kind of riotous arguments that lead to passionate make up. We have never felt the need to feel the excitement of exploring sexual escapades on every available surface in the house. No, we prefer to contain our lovemaking to the bed. Our bedroom is our refuge from the madness that often surrounds us. It is our space, the space where our focus on each other is singular.

Away from the craziness that often defines our daily lives with the Greys, we have enjoyed a time of sweet respite. For seventy-two hours, we forgot about the whims of Christian Grey and his swift mood swings. Jason got a break from the constant tension of worrying about his safety and Ana's resistance to her own security needs. The entire close protection staff is never sure when she is going to go rogue again. And everyone is more concerned about her since she became pregnant except the lady herself.

It is one thing to be unfamiliar with the level of wealth into which one has married, but it is another to completely ignore the dangers that come with it. Since they have married, Mr. Grey has had her mail scrupulously monitored both at home and work. As a part of his scheme to protect her from anxiety, he hasn't told her. However, she really should know of the number of threats from women, and even men, that she receives on a daily basis.

It is only natural that a number of women across the US would be jealous that she would have "caught" one of the richest, most eligible bachelors out there. some of them feel the need to express their disappointment by making all nature of threats against her person. Because of the fact that so many people who assumed for all these years that he was gay, similar threats come from men who viewed him as a potential partner.

After the Leila situation, there has always been a certain degree of concern that one of the other fourteen might also go postal. Thus, Jason has to keep all of them under constant watch, even those married and with other Doms. Leila had married and everyone thought that that was the end of her. He does not want to take the chance that maybe one of the others might crawl out of the woodwork.

And then there is the threat of kidnapping. If the price for Mrs. Grey was high before she got pregnant, it has now doubled or worse. She is still too trusting of those around her. If Mr. Grey has an intrinsic distrust of those around him, she has an implicit trust. She is very sympathetic to anyone in need and not very discerning when it comes to subterfuge. She also has a real and dangerous overconfidence in her own abilities to recognize threats.

It has been easier for all concerned when she works from home. It is one of the reasons that he has chosen to turn a blind eye to our covert breaking of Mr. Grey's rules of fraternizing with the staff. If it makes her more willing to stay at home and out of trouble, he had no problem with it or the possibility that if caught he might have to talk Mr. Grey into letting it continue.

I don't know what is going on now, but Jason has not gotten off the phone since we landed at Sea-Tac. So far, he has spoken with Flynn, Carrick Grey, and Price. Whatever is going on, the four of them are in it together. It has me worried, because it doesn't sound like it is entirely legal and it has something to do with Elena Lincoln's murder.

I must admit that I have been concerned about that since it happened, because it was Jason's night off. Usually, he will spend it with me, upstairs and away from the madness and chaos. But that night, he went out late and did not return until the early hours of the morning. And he would not talk about it, saying that it was nothing that I needed to know.

Now that was not the first time that he had told me that. In fact, he will frequently say that and on rare occasions I will discover that he has been involved in one scheme or another for Mr. Grey. But this time was different. He was extremely tense for about a week. He slept even fewer hours than usual and took more calls from people that he wouldn't reveal.

It has been during this frenzy of calling, that I received a call from Sophie on my own phone. She has never called me before, even though she has had my cell number for about a year.

"Gail," she said anxiously, "I am trying to call Daddy but I keep getting transferred to voice mail. Is there something wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong, dear," I say soothingly. "He has just been very busy doing his job for Mr. Grey."

For a moment, there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Did you have a nice wedding?" She finally asks. "Did you take any pictures?"

"We had a lovely wedding," I say. "And yes we have pictures. You can see them next weekend when you visit."

Once again, there is silence on the other end. My heart begins to sink. I knew that Jeannine was not going to give up so easily on the overnight visits.

"I don't think that I'm going to able to visit next weekend, Gail," she says sadly. "Mommy wants me to go away with her and Patrick."

Patrick is Jeannine's second husband. He is pretty indifferent to Sophie, so it kind of surprises me that he wouldn't want to take advantage of a weekend to be alone with his wife.

"Oh," I reply. "Where do they plan to go?"

"Denver," she answers briefly.

"Maybe they would rather have the weekend to themselves," I suggest. "Have you told them that you really want to see your Daddy?"

"Yes, ma'am," she says almost too softly to hear. "But Patrick has been offered a job there. He will make more money and he and Mommy want to go. We are going to look at houses."

My heart sinks to the bottom of my very being. Jason will be devastated. He adores his little girl. This is going to turn all of our lives upside down. Jeannine has full physical and legal custody of Sophie and therefore has the right to take her anywhere she wants to go. Jason followed her to Seattle to be close to his daughter already. It will create a dilemma for us. Will we follow them to Denver? If we do, will Jeannine move again? Are we going to spend the next ten years chasing her all over the country.

Then there is the issue of the Greys. Mr. Grey and Ana have done everything in their power to make us comfortable and happy. Ana has gone out of her way to make sure that Sophie has a lovely room to stay in when she visits. Mr. Grey pays for Sophie to go to the best and most exclusive school in Seattle. All of this has happened because we were married. And Sophie was the one who encouraged us. Poor child. She must be feeling terrible.

"Sophie, dear," I say at last. "As soon as your Daddy is free, I will tell him and have him call you."

"I'm not sure that Mommy will let him talk to me," she says reluctantly. "I'm kind of hiding upstairs. I'm not allowed to use the phone without her permission."

"I will see if I can get him now," I say hurriedly and run over to his office.

"Jason," I hiss at him, when I find him on the phone. "You must talk to Sophie now!"

"I'll call her back," he says, as he tries to wave me off.

"No, now!" I say firmly. "Jeannine wants to move her to Denver because Patrick got a new job."

"I'll call you back," he says quickly into his cell and grabs mine.

"Sophie, honey, it's Daddy," he says tenderly. "What's wrong?"

My heart nearly breaks when I here the crying on the other end. Jason's face tightens in fury. I can't say that I blame him. But the storm of emotions gets worse.

"Put Sophie back on the line!" he thunders into the phone.

I hear an invective on the other end.

"No!" he replies. "I don't give a shit about your rules and don't you dare punish her for calling me! What the fuck do you think that you are doing and when were you planning on telling me?"

More yelling.

"Don't you hang up, Jeannine!" he roars. "We're not finished!"

He throws my cell phone across the room and it hits the wall with a resounding crash.

"She fucking hung up on me!" he growls.

I know now how Ana feels when Mr. Grey loses his temper. I have never seen Jason display so much anger before. Of course, the only other times he had been angry was when something was going wrong at work. He has never had call to be personally angry about something before. I feel myself cringing.

"Why the hell is she doing this?" he asks in despair.

"I don't know," I reply helplessly.

I feel his frustration, as well as my own. There is no legal recourse. She holds all the cards. For the past four years, Jason has done his best to placate her so that he would not put Sophie in the middle of their conflict. But Jeannine has just done exactly that, putting Sophie in the center of what will no doubt turn into an ugly dispute.

And there is no winning position for Sophie. Despite Jeannine's years of trying to keep her apart from her father, I can't imagine that she wants to leave her mother, even if she could. She's too young to have a say anyway. The original arrangement was made based on the fact that Jason was a bachelor working long and uneven, unpredictable hours. As long as they remained in the same city, Jason and Jeannine maintained an uneasy truce.

When was Jeannine going to tell him of the impending move? Probably as close to it as possible. That is why she needed to keep Sophie away from him. Jason is pacing, whatever crisis going on with Mr. Grey, completely forgotten.

"What do I do, Gail?" he finally asks me bleakly.

I shake my head, unable to give him an answer. But I open my arms and he comes over and holds on for dear life. He squeezes me tightly and rests his head on my shoulder.

"I am so sorry," I murmur as I rock him.

"It's not your fault," he answers quietly. "I've always suspected that she would do something like this. She was so angry when I followed her to Seattle. And I thought that she was a little too accepting of our marriage. I think that she has been planning this for a while. But I always thought that Patrick liked his job here."

"Mr. Grey is going to be very upset when you tell him," I reply. "He depends on you so much. And he has done everything that he can to make things easier for your relationship with Sophie. And I know that Ana will be more than upset."

"There's nothing they can do," he comments. "This is not one of those problems that he can solve with money. Jeannine is not going to give her up and I really can't blame her. Whatever else she is, she is a good mother."

"If you want," I say. "We can move to Denver. I will go wherever you need to go to be near your daughter."

"I know that," he replies. "But if I follow her again, she might just prevail upon Patrick to move again. Then what happens to Sophie? She could be dragged from pillar to post and feel guilty for causing the constant upheaval in all of our lives. I just can't do that to her."

The situation seems hopeless. And on top of that, there is this mystery situation going on with Mrs. Lincoln's death. After a few minutes more. Of indulging in his sorrow, Jason pulls away from me and returns to his office. I hear him making a phone call. I know that he is still hurting, but that this is his way of coping. He is not able to control his ex-wife's actions but he has another matter that he can do something about.

I walk over and pick up my shattered iPhone and return to our bedroom. I need to do something that I can take control of as well. I continue to unpack our bags, put things away, and sort out the dirty laundry. If only it was so easy to sort out our lives. I think of Sophie's sad, little voice on the phone and it gives me pause. I realize that I have come to love the endearing child very much.

Grace

How could I have failed my son so badly! I know that I have been in denial since the news first came out of Elena's sordid lifestyle. I so desperately did not want to believe that she had engaged in all of that perverted behavior with my son. It was bad enough that she had seduced him at such a young age, but the fact that she had physically abused him as well makes me positively ill.

It was a normal Sunday evening dinner. Christian and Ana are away in Aspen, but Elliot, Kate, Mia, and Ethan were there. Mia was pouting because she wasn't invited to go, but Ethan reminded her that she had just started school and had classes to attend tomorrow. Because he said it, she accepted it and grumbled about having homework to do.

"What do you have to do?" asked Kate.

"Oh, read a few chapters in The Sun also Rises and summarize them," she complained.

Kate shrugged.

"Sounds like a pretty standard assignment to me," she commented. "You know if you want a degree, then you're going to have to work for it."

"Who says I want a degree?" she muttered.

But before the conversation could continue, Gretchen entered, followed by Linc.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Grey, Mr. Grey," she said nervously. "But Mr. Lincoln insisted."

"That's alright, Gretchen," I replied kindly. "You may go now."

With another fearful look, she scooted off to the kitchen.

"What the hell do you want, Lincoln?" shouted Carrick.

"Long time, no see, Grey," answered Linc insolently. "You know why I'm here. The cops are breathing down my neck now and I've had no assurances from you about my defense. I don't know how you know, but you sure as hell know that I didn't kill the bitch."

"Lincoln, you have interrupted our dinner," Carrick replied. "Get the fuck out of here,"

"Carrick!" I reproved. I didn't care how angry he was, I did not want to hear that kind of language at my dinner table.

"Such a proper lady," sneered Linc. "Too good for the likes of a whore like Elena."

"I'm warning you, Lincoln," answered Carrick. "I will not have this discussion here at my dinner table."

"Oh, don't be so righteous!" shouted Linc. "You know everything and I can see that you've kept it to yourself."

Carrick turned pale and didn't answer, so Elliot stepped into the breach.

"I thought my father told you to get lost," he said, as he stood.

Elliot is a tall, broad-shouldered man. In fact, he towered over Linc and looked quite threatening. He might seem like a mild-mannered, jovial son, but he is also a loyal one. Like Christian, he would answer any challenge to his family's honor.

"Down boy, down!" replied Linc sarcastically, as he held up his hands. "Seeing a you are all going to be so unreasonable, I guess that it's time for me to play the ace in my hand."

"Lincoln, no . . ." began Carrick, but it was too late.

"Your precious son, Christian," Linc continued. "Was Elena's submissive for six years. She introduced him to the lifestyle and collared him, if you know what I mean. He was her toy, her plaything. In fact, when I found them in flagrante delicto, you might say, she had him tied up. I beat the shit out of her because she let him go."

I felt as though the walls of my life were falling in on me. Elliot came over and rested his arms on my shoulders protectively.

"You don't have to listen to any more of this shit, Mom," he said.

"No, you don't," concurred Linc, enjoying his moment. "I could give you more details, but I think that you know enough for now. Grey, if you don't take up my defense, pro bono, I will leak this to the press."

We all stared at him in shock.

"Yes," he stated. "I will leak this and then the information that your son continued the lifestyle after the affair was over, as a Dom, himself. In fact, if I am not mistaken, that's how things started off with innocent, little Ana."

"What proof do you have?" asked Carrick. "I think that you're bluffing!"

"Do you want to take the risk finding out the answer to that question?" asked Linc. "Do you think that I am making an idle threat? Do you really want to take that chance?"

At that, to my immense shock, Carrick conceded defeat.

"No, I won't take that risk," he replied. "I will represent you, pro bono if that's what you demand. Now get out of my house!"

"Pleasure doing business with you!" answered Linc cheerfully. "Have a good meal!"

And with that, he stalked out of the room and out of the house. I put my head in my hands and wept.