CPOV
What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? The exact thing you told her you didn't need and the exact thing her therapist said to avoid.
My heart is tripping over itself in an attempt to control the adrenaline fueled fear pumping through my veins right now. I should do something, anything except lay here and wallow in it but I won't leave her alone. What if she wakes and wants to leave? How can I convince her to stay now? Fuck! How could I have lost it like that?
She stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips and I wonder if it's because of what I just did to her. I used her. Truly and totally lost control and used her so that I could gain some control back. And she knows it. I saw it in her eyes when she walked to the bathroom. Empty, vacant, confused. Because of me.
She should leave. If I was half the man she thought I was I'd make her leave. But I'm not that man. I'm the asshole who bends her over like a sub and fucks her so that I can feel better about my own situation. Did I stop even once to consider how it made her feel?
Yes. I did. And I take great comfort in that but the reality, the truth that I want to avoid that just won't leave me alone is that I expected her to take it. I expected her to know that my anger wasn't directed at her. I expected her to understand that I needed to control and dominate. And while I didn't take her into the playroom and do the things I would have normally done, I still pushed my own selfish agenda. The big question is...at what cost?
Will she wake tomorrow and go about her normal routine or will she pack her shit and go? Will she lash out or remain locked in this shell she's retreated into? The idea of Ana hiding from me, the idea of her pulling away from me and taking the intimacy that I so desperately crave from her leaves me sick and breathless. She can't. She just can't leave me on any level.
With the lightest of touches I trace the line of her face with my fingertip until it rests on her lips, puffy and red from my amorous attack. Amorous? Hardly. That was rough and purely physical. My heart clenches with regret. My Ana, my sweet Ana. Forgiveness seems ridiculous to ask for after betraying her trust like that.
Six weeks ago this woman was a virgin and I've reduced her, in one night, to an outlet for my needs. I'm going to be sick. The floor in the bathroom is cold and unforgiving but I stand in the harsh light for an hour before I feel the heaves leave me. Inside I'm begging for her to wake and beat the shit out of me with a cane, with her fists, with her words. Anything except silence. Her silence will kill me.
I don't feel worthy to share a bed with her so I don't. Dragging over the very same chair I bent her over not two hours ago I sit and watch her sleep. Fully clothed to protect her body from me. Subconscious or not, it's a pretty powerful statement.
In my mind the fog begins to lift as it always does and I begin to organize and rationalize my thoughts. I need a plan. A plan to keep her here and a plan to make sure that never, ever, ever happens again. Marriage is permanent but there is no way in hell she'd say yes now. My heart sinks at the realization that I just fucked that up for myself indefinitely. Idiot.
Every scenario plays out in my head as to how she'll react in the morning. Knowing my girl the way I do, she'll take the day and think it over, analyze it and then reach a conclusion. I just need to get in her head before she starts the process. Call it manipulation, call it brutal honesty. I call it desperation. If she were like most women I know, I'd wake her with diamonds and cash but Ana is not most women. Gifts like that would just piss her off even more. She's not interested in resolutions if there is no why attached to them. I need to give her the why of my actions.
Groveling won't do much either, she's not one to play into trite words of begging and manipulation. I would never insult her by playing it cool and pretending that it didn't happen either. The only plan I have by the time I've run through the possible scenarios, is that ultimately, only Ana can dictate what happens. She has total control.
The irony is not lost on me.
APOV
When I wake Christian is in the shower, no doubt feeling bad about last night. I can't say I'd feel differently if I were him but I'm surprisingly not mad. I'm upset but not for reasons that make sense to me. Logic tells me that I should be angry that he reverted to harsh, controlling sex to deal with the upheaval of his private life. Logic tells me that I'm in shock right now. Logic tells me to get the fuck out of here and to do it now.
Logic aside, the harshness, the absolute disregard for what Dr. Fischer told us, the callous way he used my body last night isn't what bothers me the most. In my heart, I know his anger wasn't directed at me. I know he was lashing out at the loss of control and the overwhelming changes to his private life. I won't make excuses for him but I can't deny the truth.
What is it then that is burrowing the seed of resentment so deeply right now? My eyes focus on the raised vaulted ceiling above while I try and put my finger on exactly what it is I'm struggling with.
Physically it was a new experience for me. Sex with Christian has always been incredible but even when it's been rough, it's never been harsh. It would be a lie if I said I didn't enjoy some of it last night. There was a big part of me that found satisfaction in having him use my body for his pleasure and an even bigger part that enjoyed seeing his alpha male on display. He was, without question, fully in control of his body and completely tapped into his domination. It didn't frighten me but it did awe me. Confusion abounds. I believe this is what they call...a mind fuck.
When I walk into the bathroom he's out of the shower, wet with a towel around his waist while he brushes his hair. He stops the second he sees me in the mirror and turns hesitantly. I offer him a shy smile and watch as his shoulders relax immediately when I speak.
"Good morning."
"Good morning. How are you feeling?" Even his voice is repentant. His face is filled with concern so I look into the mirror and take in the tangled mess of my hair and the swelling of my lips.
"Fine. You?" His hip rests against the granite counter top and his arms cross with a sigh.
"Honestly? Like shit." Good.
"Well, you can tell me all about it later, I don't have it in me to listen to anything you have to say right now. I just want a shower." His mouth opens and shuts as if he wants to say something but I broker no room for discussion so he puts toothpaste on his toothbrush and runs it under the water, never once taking his eyes off of me.
"Do you want privacy?" I scoff, he's never cared about that before.
"Well, I need to pee and you know how I feel about that." For once he doesn't give me a hard time, he just walks over to the far end of the bathroom and studies a painting on the wall, scrubbing his teeth. This is still too close for comfort but I'm not in the mood to argue right now and I really want to get in the shower so I do my business and strip, telling him I'm finished only when I walk into the shower to turn on the water.
I hit the number two and within seconds I'm standing under nine streams of perfectly temperatured water. I feel him before I see him and turn to the glass doorway where he takes off his towel and walks in timidly, taking the shampoo and turning me around. He is a clueless idiot.
"You already showered." The aggression in my voice dulls when his hands massage my scalp before gliding over my neck and shoulders, rubbing out small knots and then continuing to my hands. I know he's going to freak out when he sees the thin red marks left by the tie from last night and even with the pounding water I hear his gasp.
"Fuck!" His inspection continues to my hips where he falls to his knees and rests his forehead on my stomach. "I've bruised you." His lips skim the tiny fingertip bruises on my right hip. "I'm so sorry, Ana, please forgive me."
"Christian. I'm not angry with you." He looks up at me, confusion written all over his face.
"You're not?" I take a deep breath and let my shoulders sag.
"I don't think I am. I'm something but I haven't figured out what that something is yet. Maybe I'm past angry, I don't know." Annoyance shoots through me at the sight of him on his knees. "Stop inspecting me!" So maybe I am angry. His brows rise but he recovers quickly and stands slowly after kissing each bruise.
"Well, that sounds worse than angry." I rinse out the shampoo and let him work in the conditioner while I lather up the loofah. He's hard against my lower back but the chances of me having sex right now are zero. To his credit he washes me and then rinses me without trying to touch me, holding open an oversized towel for me to dry off with.
Even when we dress he remains hard but he makes no move to even attempt to touch me. At breakfast he's quiet, no doubt worried about my state of mind but I'm so confused right now that I don't know what to feel. Relief that his family knows? Victorious for taking what he dished out last night like a pro? Ashamed for liking it? Disappointed that he went right to rough sex when he became overwhelmed? Afraid that I won't be able to meet his needs now that I've seen some of his darkness?
"You'll be at the apartment all day?" Don't fucking talk to me. Inside, I seethe.
"Not all day, the movers are there now, Kate just texted me to let me know. I told her to go ahead and get her stuff out first since she's there now, plus, most of the furniture is hers anyway. What arrangements did you make for my stuff?"
"There's a storage locker in the basement here at Escala that you can use. Taylor said there's nothing in there now but really, Ana, you should donate the furniture and all." He chews his omelet and sips his coffee before continuing. "I have no intention of you ever leaving this place so it's going to become useless and redundant."
"Well I'm not an 'eggs in one basket' kinda girl so I'll wait a bit before taking drastic steps." He looks hurt and as much as I want to reassure him, again, that I'm not going anywhere, I just don't have it in me right now. Fuck. Him. After a few more minutes of heavy silence I stand and call for Sawyer, giving Christian a quick kiss before I go, ignoring the pleading look he gives me when I turn towards the elevator.
"Man, what the hell is wrong with you today, Ana? You haven't been this bitchy since the last episode of 'Lost' aired."
"I don't know, Missy, just keep looking, they've got to be here somewhere." The earrings, the missing earrings are my problem. No, it's the fact that your boyfriend fucked you like a sub last night. No, it's because you liked it. No, it's because you felt what those women felt, great sex and no love. An object.
And that is what's bothering me. His detachment during the whole ordeal. That and the nausea and headache I have...again.
"Hey." Kate tosses her purse on the counter and grabs a donut. "Some girl is in the hall for you, says you know each other."
"For me?" Kate gives me a 'duh' look and squeezes out the jelly onto a napkin. Sawyer is standing at the door directing the movers who are finishing with Kate's things but he holds my arm and asks me to wait before opening the door.
"Do you know her, Ms. Steele?" When a mover opens the door I see a woman waiting against the opposite wall, holding a small piece of paper between two fingers. There's something familiar about her but it's not until she sees me and smiles that I can place her.
"Oh, um, yea, I know her." Sawyer stands between me and the open doorway but I smile up at him and point him to my room. "The movers are going to start in there, I'm a bit anxious about personal information they might come across." He nods once and strides towards my bedroom, pointing at Fitch and then at me clearly giving him instructions to stay with me.
"Anastasia, hi, Lillian Parker." My hand automatically reaches for hers and we shake while Fitch refuses a donut from Kate who has come to see just who this girl is. "I'm sorry to bother you, I've been trying to get ahold of you at your office but it's impossible to get through and last time I stopped by your neighbor said you were moving out so I wanted to try one last time."
"Yes," I say slowly, keenly aware of the physical similarities between us. Her eyes are the color of honeyed whiskey and her legs go on for miles but outside of that, she's me right down to the long brown hair. "I'm not easy to get ahold of anymore." I hear myself but I'm having one of those moments where you're floating above yourself, watching what's happening and unable to stop it. Kate stands with her body turned towards the door, watching me with mild interest while she instructs the movers on which boxes are hers.
"I won't keep you, I can see that you're busy. Anyway, I wanted to give you this. I've written your password on the back and here," she pulls another small piece of paper from her jeans pocket, "are the instructions on how to find our group. I'm sorry it took me so long to get it to you but we couldn't use our normal routes." I nod dumbly and shut the door behind me to avoid Kate's curiosity.
My eyes are burning with the need to blink but I can't. I can't move, I can't speak, I can't breathe. This woman was a sub of Christian's and for some reason, she is standing outside of my apartment speaking to me as if we know each other.
"Thank you." I say stupidly and she takes a breath, rolling back on her heels to take me in.
"He sure has a type, huh? I'd love to pick your brain about how you got him to be photographed with you. That was shocking to us, every one of us nearly had a heart attack. Of course, some of the girls were jealous as all hell but most of us are just really happy that he's more comfortable with the lifestyle." Fitch opens the door and quietly says my name but I shrug him off.
"I'd love to meet up for lunch if you can. It would have to be on the down low, I realize that, but I think we could really help you and ultimately help him. After all," she says with a smile, "that's our job, right?" My throat is thick and dry but I somehow manage to thank her and wave her off to the elevator. What the hell just happened?
Lillian. Number two. Brown hair, brown eyes, about 5' 10". My stomach clenches and roils and I just make it into the bathroom to throw up. With each heave my eyes water, my head throbs and my legs shake. This will never end, I will forever be blindsided despite all of his revelations and precautions.
"Ana, what's going on?" Kate and Missy are squeezed into the half bath, holding my hair and rubbing my back. I'm disgusted with myself when I realize that I want my mother. Terrible parent aside, when you're sick, it's instinctual. I want my mom. But she doesn't want me. More heaves, more tears, more sadness. It washes over me, covering me and consuming me. Rejection is eviscerating.
My mother doesn't want me. My boyfriend fucked me like a sub last night. His ex was just at my door asking me to go out for lunch. Another wave hits me and rolls through me, the pain in my belly no match for the pain in my heart.
In my sweaty hand are the two pieces of paper from Lillian, the ink still readable but smeared. "The SubClub". I have nothing left to throw up so I collapse on the floor, my face resting against the cold tiles and I cry. The SubClub. A club of women who have fucked my boyfriend and talk about it, apparently in an online forum where they exchange information.
"Sweetheart, we've got to figure this out. I can't watch you do this to yourself. When was the last time you had a physical?" Kate is smoothing my hair away from my face while Missy reads Fitch the riot act if he calls Christian. My phone is buzzing incessantly. Apparently, it's too late. Fitch give me a small smile and resumes his post in the hallway now that the movers are gone.
"Sawyer?"
"On the phone with Taylor right now." Kate spits it out, thoroughly disgusted.
He peeks his head around the doorway and holds up his phone. "They're on their way, Ms. Steele."
"I'm not sick." Kate squats and dabs my eyes with a tissue, her voice the softest I've ever heard it in the five years I've known her.
"OK, but you're something. When did the headaches and naseua start?" It hurts to think so I wave her off and mumble something about a few weeks ago.
"Could this be PMS?" Missy fans my face with an old magazine, concern etched between her eyebrows.
"I don't know. Does PMS last for weeks?" I see them exchange a glance and then Kate reaches over and shuts the door shooing Sawyer away.
"Ana, could you be pregnant?" Kate whispers it but she may as well have screamed it.
"No. I take my pill faithfully every day at the same time." I know I'm not pregnant. I know what this is, it's stress. Overwhelming, undiluted, constant stress but I can't tell them that, they'll assume it's Christian's fault and then I'll get caught in the middle of them hating him for stressing me out. I'm surrounded by friends but somehow I'm completely alone.
"OK, when are you due for your period?" My stomach drops to my feet when I count back but I know I'm not pregnant. I can't be.
"Saturday. I usually get it in the morning."
"So then it's PMS, I always get it the week leading up to my period."
"No, the Saturday that passed, three days ago." Missy slides to the floor and feels my cheek against her palm.
"Sweets, we need to take a pregnancy test then."
"No, we don't. I'm not pregnant. Fuck! Could someone please shut that damn phone off!" Kate grabs it and raises her eyes.
"Nine times in three minutes, Ana. He's going to panic if you don't call him back."
"You do it. I want to just close my eyes." Kate takes my phone and walks to her room but I can hear every word from her mouth.
"Hi, Christian…she's not puking now but she was…no, just a friend…I don't think it had anything to do with her friend…I don't know, Christian!...How long has she been dealing with the headaches?...she needs to see a doctor." Her voice lowers into a hushed whisper but with no furniture to absorb sound I hear her, barely, but I can still hear her.
"She needs to see a doctor…did you know she's late…for her period…yes, I'm serious…she doesn't think so…she doesn't want to talk…Dr. Brodsky…yes she's a female…alright, I'll tell her but she's sure she's not…see you in 10."
"He's on his way, Andrea will call your doctor for an appointment right now."
I want to stand and yell at her, I want to punch her right in the side of the head for mentioning that I'm late or that she thinks I should be tested for a pregnancy but I can't move, the pain in my head is sharp and constant. Turns out, Missy picks up the torch for me.
"That was bullshit, Kavanaugh. We could have just run out to the store and had her take an EPT without the fanfare. That was not your place to tell."
"Yes, it was. He's her boyfriend, he loves her and one day he'll be her husband but right now, she's suffering and she needs help and she won't get it so too fucking bad." When I open my eyes to protest the room spins, my chest constricts and my body pours sweat. I give up.
"Shhh, we're almost there, sweet girl." My eyes open enough to see buildings zipping by before they close again. I know I'm in the Audi and I know I'm with Christian because I can smell that signature scent of his but it doesn't make me wild with lust or comforted right now. It makes me feel sick all over again and I sit up, reaching for the door even while Taylor drives.
"Taylor! Pull over now!" Just in time I push the door open and dry heave on the side of Occidental Avenue. The heaves hurt but it's the 700 pound weight on my chest that's killing me. Numb fingers struggle to shut the door but Christian does it for me, pulling me back against his chest to resume his shushing of me.
"Please don't touch me right now." His mouth opens to say something but he wisely snaps it shut and lets me curl against the cool leather of the seat alone. I couldn't give two shits about how he feels right now.
We use the back entrance to Dr. Brodsky's, an entrance I didn't even know existed, and are ushered immediately into an exam room. I've always had to wait but not today, not when Christian Grey calls and demands an appointment.
Within seconds a nurse is in the room taking my vitals and Dr. Brodsky herself rushes in, chart in hand with a phlebotomist trailing behind her.
"Anastasia, I understand you've been feeling sick lately?" I can't even open my eyes to answer her, the pain is so great when the light filters in. Christian answers for me.
"She needs a pregnancy test." Dickhead. I can hear the hesitation in his voice, the slight stutter when he says the P in pregnancy but I shake my head and lift a finger to get her attention.
"I'm not pregnant."
"Are you sexually active?" Christian answers with a proud 'yes'. "And are you still taking your pill every day?"
"Yes."
"Have there been any big changes to your life recently? An upheaval? A loss? Any big events that would lead to stress?" I scoff despite the pain and nod, slowly and quietly explaining some of the things that have happened over the last few weeks. At the mention of Hyde and the attack she orders an MRI to rule out a head injury even though I was examined that night.
"Sometimes injuries aren't detectable right away. A fracture or even a blood clot could appear later but not immediately so we need to rule those things out but from what I can gather of your current life, you may be having panic attacks." She stands and asks the phlebotomist to take four vials of blood and waits while she does so, asking small questions about my mental health. Christian watches, white as a ghost as the vials fill with thick red blood.
"Alright, we've got you scheduled for an MRI next door in 20 minutes but I want to give you a urine test to rule out a pregnancy while we wait. Take this cup, use the bathroom there. The nurse will collect it from you afterwards, you can wait right here for the results."
"How long? How long does that take?" For the first time he moves, standing to pace and pull at his hair. Watching him freaking out like this pisses me off for some reason.
"About three minutes." I take the cup and reach for the door to the bathroom when Christian tries to come in with me. Seriously? I won't pee in front of him in the best of situations, I'm not about to pee in a cup in front of him. With a bit more aggression than necessary I shove him out and slam the door. He eyes the clear plastic when I hand it off to the nurse and continues his pacing while I curl up on the paper of the exam table.
"Ana, if you're pregnant," he hisses the word like speaking it will make it happen, "I'm going to be seriously pissed off."
Fuck him and his past right now.
"Fuck!" He rounds on me, finger pointing accusatorily. "I told you to get the shot, I fucking told you! Now look where we are!"
"Shut up." It's a whisper but he hears it nonetheless because his pacing stops and he stills, hands still on the top of his head.
"What?" He says, standing by my prone body. I keep my eyes closed.
"Shut up. Please. Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Incredibly, he does.
When the door swings open he stands straight and waits without breathing but I don't even sit up.
"Negative, no pregnancy." He sags in relief, dropping to a squat and holding his head in his hands. "We'll know more after the MRI but your symptoms mimic a classic panic attack and today sounds like it was a massive one. I'd like to speak to you alone for a few minutes if I could." Christian grabs at my hand and stands, pissed off all over again. If I had any strength in me, I'd shove him off.
"No. Anything you have to ask or she has to say can be done in front of me. I'm not leaving her when she's like this."
"Mr. Grey, I need to speak to my patient, alone, for five minutes. You can wait in the hallway." The authority in her voice encourages me to sit, if for no other reason than to watch how this plays out but ultimately it's me who ends the battle.
"He can stay. I've got nothing to hide. I'm sure that these are panic attacks, I had a friend in high school who experienced them daily." Though I'm sure hers weren't tied to her boyfriend being a sexual demigod who had women waiting in the wings to crucify me. His secrets and that evil blonde bitch of a woman are crushing me.
"Alright but you can call and adjust your answers at any time. I need to know if you're being abused, either physically, emotionally, verbally, mentally or sexually." Christian is about to blow his top, I can see the blood pumping through the veins in his neck at a rapid pace. His pupils constrict and his hands clench so I take one, rubbing small circles over his knuckles. I may be angry at him but I'm not going to feed into his self-loathing.
"No, not in any way, shape, or form. He's very very good to me." His eyes don't leave her face but she looks only at me as if he wasn't even in the room.
"Do you feel threatened in any way?"
"No." She closes the chart and exhales with a shrug.
"Head on over to radiology and then we'll meet in my office. If you're reacting to stress like this, we need to make some major changes."
"Agreed." Christian turns white and grips my hand but I grip it back and stand, leaning against him. "Carry me, please?" He gives me a tight lipped smile and walks the hallways to radiology.
"Christian?" His eyes look hollow and fearful. "Changes doesn't mean I'm leaving you. I just need to figure out how to manage all of this." My weak hands turn his face to mine. "Look at me. I'm not leaving you."
"Ana, if you left"
"I'm not. Tell me why." He looks confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Tell me why I'm not going to leave. What about you is worth staying for? Tell me one thing and tell me why." He sighs and pulls me onto his lap so that I can swallow the two Imitrex pills the nurse hands to me.
"Ana…" My head thumps against his chest in defeat. "OK, OK. I am gentle. Do I really have to elaborate?" I nod under his chin. "I'm gentle because despite wanting to tear that examination room apart at the thought of something being wrong with you, I didn't. I'm gentle because I…like to carry you around and caress you?" He squints with one eye and even though his answer sucks, it's a start and frankly, I need the quiet right now.
"Good enough for now, we'll keep working on that."
"Ms. Steele, come on back and we'll get you started. Mr. Grey, it's going to take about an hour. There's coffee and vending machines just down the hall to your left."
"I'll be right here and I want to know if anything happens or you see anything and I want to know it right away." She just grins and takes my arm, leading me to another room without so much as an acknowledgement.
One hour and fifteen minutes later we're sitting in Dr. Brodsky's office as she examines the MRI results. The migraine I had is now a dull ache but it's left me exhausted and sore.
"Nothing unusual or sinister which is great. There doesn't appear to be any lingering injuries although I can see a healed fracture here on your left temple." Her brows raise over her glasses in question.
"I was 14, my…ex-step father threw me against a car." She nods slowly and looks closer.
"Your nose?" And there it is, that little niggling I've had since my mom was here that I couldn't place. How did he know about my broken nose? I'd never told anyone, not even Kate. Looking over at him he waits for an explanation but he already knows it. Pieces fall into place. My medical records. He had to have accessed my medical records, there is no other way he could have known.
"My ex-step father again." It's a strangled whisper and his hand shoots to mine to support me but my anguish isn't for my injury, it's for the betrayal and lack of trust I have in him at this very moment. Yet another blow to my overwhelmed mind.
Dr. Brodsky continues to speak, answering a question Christian asks about birth control and after an educating lesson on the similar effective rates of the pill vs. the shot, she allows me to make an appointment for Depo in two weeks and then sends us on our way. I only hear snippets of the conversation, my mind is elsewhere, struggling to handle the fact that my boyfriend is still keeping secrets from me. Secrets that leave me feeling violated and betrayed.
The ride to Escala is silent. I wanted to go back to my apartment but there isn't so much as a towel there anymore. He worked that out just perfectly now didn't he? You are a fool, Ana.
In the apartment he carries me to the bed, turning down the comforter and calling for Gail to come and make me something to eat. She says something about chicken salad and then leaves so that Christian can undress me. I don't want his hands on me but the fastest way to get him away from me is to let him do this so I remain silent with my eyes closed. I am totally defeated.
When Gail returns with a sandwich I kindly refuse it, the sight of it turning my stomach over. No matter how hard I protest he insists that I eat until I finally tell him to leave me alone or I'll throw up all over his duvet.
"Our duvet, Ana. Now rest. I'm going to see if your blood work is done yet." And as much as I want to argue, as much as I want to confront him and yell at him and lash out, I can't. I have way too much to process, way too much swirling in my head so I close my eyes and pray for sleep. And thank you, Jesus it comes quickly.
CPOV
Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. A baby. Anastasia pregnant. The fear of that happening was so huge that I'd nearly thrown up myself. I absolutely, positively cannot be a father. Not now, not ever. No fucking way could I be a dad.
Waiting in the room to find out if she was, in fact pregnant, was the longest three minutes of my life. Even now, sitting at my desk, staring at the computer screen showing the actual statistics of birth control, I feel panicked. And disgusted. I yelled at her about it. Anastasia, in the fetal position with her eyes closed in agonizing pain and I yelled at her for the possibility that she could be pregnant. I just can't seem to stop fucking up.
But what if she had been pregnant? Me, as a father? What if she wants that one day? The thought steals the air right out of my lungs.
"Sir."
Gail and Taylor walk in together sending me into panic mode but Gail assures me that Ana is still sleeping and then sets a plate in front of me. Once she goes Taylor closes the door and stands with military precision in front of the desk.
"I've got some news and I can't say it's something we saw coming. About 30 minutes ago Carla Adams was filmed with Stephen Morton at a Waffle House outside of Atlanta. Our guy got close enough to get audio and video and well, I'd like to say I'm surprised but I'm not." He hands me a tablet and presses a button. Instantly there is a grainy video of Morton leaning against a light pole, smoking a cigarette and then crushing it out when a white car pulls in.
My body vibrates with rage when in the frame walks Ana's mother, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him and rubbing on him like a cat in heat. The audio itself isn't good, but between the visual and the snippets caught with the microphone the gist of their relationship is clear. They're lovers and they have been for years. Unfreakingbelievable.
His excitement is evident when she explains how easy it was to take the earrings. Ana leaving to come to me on Thursday night made the apartment 'easy pickings'. He's pissed when she tells him how she and Ana left things for no other reason than it makes getting anything from me harder. I almost laugh at his audacity. Tossing his ass back in jail will be sweet satisfaction.
And even though I knew the minute Ana mentioned the missing earrings that Carla took them, I'm still blown away, shocked to my very core when he asks about them and she produces them with a squeal. Her own mother. The video continues as they walk, hand in hand to the neighboring Days Inn and ends when they close the door to a room he's already rented.
Taylor takes back the tablet and clicks it off. "They're still in the room. I've sent you a copy of this video to your GEH private email account."
"Who knows about this? Is there a crime we can get him on here? I want those earring back for Ana's sake and I want that fucker in prison."
"Welch, the security team in Atlanta, and Sawyer know about it. As to crimes, you'll need a legal expert on Georgia law to weigh in but from first glance, he knows the earrings are stolen goods, he says in the video that he can't believe she stole from her own daughter but he accepts them anyway. If he attempts to sell them, then we've got something to go after him on."
"Get another man on him. I want him caught, I want him prosecuted and I want those earrings back." Taylor shifts to his other foot as if he's debating something.
"Spit it, Taylor."
"If you go after him on the grounds of stolen goods, then you'll have to go after her as well."
"Yup." Is all I can manage, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. He nods once in understanding.
"We'll keep tailing them both until we've got enough evidence then." When the door shuts I stand and walk to the window, staring out at the cars and people below through the rain. Will this be the blow that breaks her? Or did I do that last night? Last night...I shake the images from my mind.
Ultimately, this has to be Ana's decision. I don't give a shit about the cost of the earrings, they hold sentimental value to me but is telling her that her own mother stole from her worth her heartache? Was telling my parents worth the heartache? They say the truth sets you free but I feel more trapped and confined than I ever have.
My girlfriend, a sweet, innocent, bubbly, intelligent woman when I met her has been reduced to panic attacks and medical intervention. I'm not foolish enough to believe that it's all because of Hyde or the loss of her relationship with her mother. I own a large part of her pain and that kills me. She was better off without you.
Hours later I've completed a stack of paperwork and held two conference calls. Lunch remains untouched on my desk when Gail knocks with dinner, taking the chicken salad away and leaving a stir-fry in its place.
"Gail, is Ms. Steele awake yet?" She looks at me a bit surprised.
"For an hour now." If I tried I couldn't feel shittier. She hesitates and then walks back to the desk to retrieve the plate. "She's in the kitchen now, would you like to join her?" Would I? Does she want me to? Things were tense when she left this morning because of my antics last night, couple that with today and my freak out at the doctors and you have a recipe for emotional disaster. Dread coils around me. We still have to talk about last night. In the chaos of today, I'd allowed it to slip to the back of my mind but now, it's front and center.
"I've got another call and then I'll be out. Leave dinner here for now, thank you, Gail." Coward.
Twenty minutes later I've shored up the tiny walls I have left, ready for an onslaught of anger coming my way and go to find Ana. Fear sets in when she's not in the great room or the kitchen or the bedroom. The library. The door is closed for privacy but I enter anyway, my need to see her greater than her need to be alone. Asshole.
"Ana?" She looks up from the book she's reading but doesn't smile. She looks tired and worn out and sad. So so sad. "What are you doing? How's your head?" She doesn't answer, she just lowers her face down back to the book and tightens the blanket she's wrapped around herself. I feel like an intruder in my own home. After a long minute she speaks without looking up.
"I don't feel like talking." When I sit next to her and take her feet in my lap she pulls them away and tucks them underneath her, huddling into a ball.
"Ana, please, don't shut me out. Tell me what I need to do. Is this because of last night?" My face burns with embarrassment but she doesn't see it since she won't look at me. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." She looks up, eyes swollen and red and huffs.
"Why? Do you even know why you're sorry? Or is just a blanket statement to cover your shit up and hope I fall back in line?"
"What? Ana, one thing you have never been is 'in line' and I love that about you." She snorts and rests her head on the leather back of the couch. The silence is a slow death to my sanity so I fill it with more apologies. "I'm sorry I was so rough…I shouldn't have been so aggressive. I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way."
"You needed that though. You needed the rough, harsh, dominating aspect of it. You needed it, you didn't just want it or like it, you needed it. The very thing you claimed to be over, the very thing Dr. Fischer told us to be careful about. You needed it." Heat wraps around me with the coldness of her tone.
"It was habit and it was a mistake. I hurt you and to be truthful, it didn't make me feel in control or stop my head from spinning. Instead it made me feel more out of control and even more confused plus I now have the added benefit of hurting you, something that I find vile. Last night was a revelation to me. I don't need that shit. I've been saying it for weeks now but last night...it was eye opening." I swallow the dread and take as deep a breath as I can manage. "I'm sorry, I can't say it enough."
"It was harsh and it was a little painful at times but that's not what bothers me. I want you to come to me when you need that. I want to be everything to you but we need to talk about it first. Being used like that without any warning and expecting me to accept it is crap. I'm not into that lifestyle and if you expect me to allow you to trample on my boundaries whenever you feel out of control, you can go suck it. I'm not chipping away at myself because you cope with shit like a child. If you need that occasionally then I need to know where your head is at before you do it or it just scares me." I have no idea what to say to her.
"It scared you?" I feel sick. She sighs and rubs her eyes in frustration.
"Despite everything you've told me about me being enough and me being all that you need, last night was proof that that's a lie. What happens when you want more than that? When life gets tougher or you lose a huge business deal? What happens when things with Elena get really hard and you're up against a wall, losing any control or privacy you thought you had? I'm not doing the hard shit, Christian and you telling me you don't need it is bull shit when you proved last night that you do!" The hard shit? Not even close. Last night was standard fucking for me but I'm not stupid enough to argue her point.
"Ana, I have no idea how to make this better. None. I can tell you a thousand times that I don't need that shit but you're not going to believe me and yes, I reverted back last night but I felt like absolute shit afterwards. If anything it proved to me that I really am done with it!" Her eyes roll before she closes them again but wisely I keep my mouth shut. "What I should have done is gone right to bed. I should have held you and loved you. I should have called Flynn or sat and talked it out with you but instead I hurt you and I am begging, begging you to forgive me."
"You didn't hurt my body so much as you fucked with my mind. Last night confused the hell out of me. Just sitting here talking about it confuses me and I hate that. I hate that I'm confused by this shit. I've got enough to deal with without you taking out your anger on me without explanation so that I'm left to figure it out! If you had said, 'Ana, I'm feeling a bit out of control and I'd really like to fuck you hard' I'd have been fine with that. I want you to come to me!" The vein in her neck is pulsing rapidly as the words rush out of her. "I mean, fuck, it felt good! I thought I handled it pretty well but it messed with my mind and I'm not ok with that."
"Neither am I. I promise you, promise you that it will never happen again." If I get on my knees will it help?
"Christian, I'm ok with you being rough and in control sometimes like that. It felt good despite the head trip but you have to make sure I'm ok with it before you do it, not after the fact. Just doing it without asking dehumanized me. God! You're a freaking billionaire genius idiot sometimes!"
"I'm sorry. I never, ever, want you to feel anything but cherished by me." She has more to say but now I've got a few questions. "It felt good?" I can't help it, my dick twitches against the zipper of my fly. Focus on the positive, Grey. Keep her in the positive.
"Physically. Mentally it's got me thinking." Oh fuck, that is never a good statement.
"Oooookay." She sighs and closes her eyes again, rubbing her temples with her thumbs.
"I felt what they felt with you. Those women." My gut twists. Not this again. "Great sex, lots of pleasure but very little connection. It made me sad for them." She sits up, the blanket falling to her waist to reveal her in my t-shirt, oversized and shapeless but somehow she makes it the sexiest thing I've ever seen.
"I've been trying to figure out all day what it was that was so bothersome to me about it and besides it being exactly what Dr. Fischer said not to do, and besides it making me fear that, in fact that part of your life isn't over, it bothered me that in your most intimate moments with these women, you were miles away." Holy fuck she thinks too deeply for me sometimes.
"It was sex, Ana. I've told you this a hundred times. I wanted sex from them, they wanted sex from me, that's all it was, that's all it ever was, that's all it would have ever been until you came along. Nothing more, nothing less. I was good to them, I took care of them and didn't hurt them but I didn't connect with them because I didn't want to. I'm sick of talking about this shit and trying to get you to believe that I'm finished with that part of my life!"
Anger flashes in her eyes when she slams the book shut that she had been reading. "You're sick of talking about it? How would you cope if you had to hear every sordid detail of my past hookups? How would you like to be faced with men that I used to grind up against and let touch me?" My heart begins to beat wildly as rage finds a home.
"Hmm? How would you cope if you found out the names and faces of each guy I've kissed and let touch my breasts? Would you be fine to hear about how those guys were just looking to"
"STOP!" My feet hit the floor as fury fills me at the thought of someone else touching her. "Stop, Ana! Just, stop! I get it! I fucking get it! You hate that I have a past. You've been exposed to it in very unfair ways in which I had no control over and you're pissed and hurt and angry but I can't change it! I can't do anything, not one thing to change what I've done and you telling me about other guys…just stop!"
Her voice is calm but it does nothing to calm the storm in me. "Christian, for weeks, weeks I've been subjected to secrets and revelations and attacks that I've rolled with, taken in stride, hell, even embraced. But last night, last night was an eye opener. You really didn't care for those women at all and you can tell me it was an agreed arrangement and that you both were fine with it but as a woman, I just can't understand that! It fucking bothers me and what really pisses me off is that I feel bad for them! Because they missed out on you! How fucking crazy am I now? I am losing my god damned mind here, Christian! If I felt dehumanized, I can't even begin to imagine how they felt!" I sit back down to hold her hand but she shrinks away again before bolting up.
Her tiny frame stands and flings the blanket and the book onto the floor and I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't but I stare at the silky skin on her legs and reach out to touch her.
"Don't even think about it. I want to talk, not touch."
"I thought you didn't want to talk." She looks at me and mimics my words with a stupid face as if she were a child which pisses me off and makes me chuckle.
"It's not funny. None of this is funny, nothing in the past few days has been funny." She walks to the door slamming it shut and then comes to stand less than six inches from my bent legs. "How did you know about my broken nose?" Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!
"You said you'd never lie to me. I guess that didn't mean invading my privacy and betraying my trust." Oh my god, no. The catch in her voice at the word betrayal has me standing and reaching for her but she takes a step back and squares her shoulders, hands on her hips waiting for an answer. "You may as well just tell me, I'm not stupid."
"I had your medical records accessed. It was wrong of me to do but I was desperate." No movement, no sound. We stand, two feet apart while the space between us grows.
"Who accessed them? Illegally I may add."
"Welch." She tosses her head back and scrunches her nose to fight tears. My heart, again, is tearing in two.
"Who else has seen them?"
"Taylor and me. That's it." Her body collapses to the floor in a heap and she buries her face in her hands and cries. Pain, searing, hot, unimaginable pain lances through me while I watch, knowing that it's me who's done this to her.
"I can't believe you did this to me. You disregarded my privacy and then shared my secrets with others." Each word is an effort as the sobs rack her body. When I kneel next to her she pushes me away, both hands flat on my chest with a strength that shocks me. "When? When did you do it?"
"After I felt your scar, right after Japan." Those eyes that I love so much look at me, sad and haunted demolishing any hope I have at keeping my sanity. I've done this to her.
"After Japan? Before the attack?" Her hand flies to her mouth and she gasps. "You knew. That night when I told you about Stephen Morton, in your bedroom, you already knew." Her entire faces scrunches up and she leans forward to rest her head on the floor, her arms circled around her waist and cries harder. "You knew, you fucking knew. You let me go on and on but you knew the entire time. You knew, you knew." She mumbles over and over while I sit and watch, afraid to move, afraid to speak.
Without warning she sits up, wipes her eyes and stands. "I need to get out of here."
"Ana, don't leave, please, not like this." I'm frantic as the tears that I've held back, the ones that have been burning my eyes for close to ten minutes finally spill over. She can't leave. She can't.
"I'm taking my car and I'm going somewhere private. If you follow me or anyone of your security guys does, I'm calling the police. I need to be alone and I need to be anonymous right now."
"The police?" I sputter, furiously wiping tears away.
"Yes, your CPO's work for you, not for me. I'm not your wife, my name isn't listed on this place, there is no tie to me whatsoever with them. I want space right now and no matter how many times I've told you how I value my privacy, you can't seem to let me have it so I'm taking it. I will call you so that you know I'm safe but I need to be alone. Totally alone right now." Before I can answer she's halfway to the bedroom, determination in each of her steps.
"Ana, if you leave," it comes out as a gasped sob and I know I sound pathetic but I can't help it. My entire life, my entire reason for living is leaving me. "I can't, Ana, you can't go, you can't leave."
"Christian," she starts, pulling on a pair of jeans and flip flops. "I'm going. Alone. I'm not leaving you, I don't ever want to leave you even though you make it damn tempting to do so sometimes. I'm going to get some clarity, I'm going to get some rest from all of this bullshit and I'm going to try to make sense of the crazy that has taken up residence in my head. This isn't about you right now. It's about me and what I need."
"If you're not leaving me, then why are you packing a bag right now?"
"Because I'll need to wear clothes and brush my teeth! Now stop. Even now, even when I'm freaking the fuck out you can't give me my privacy, you just keep blabbering on about me leaving you!" She's right, my face falls with the realization. It silences me immediately. This, right now, is about Ana. Not me. And she has every right to feel violated and betrayed. I violated her without even trying, took from her without asking, embarrassed her without wanting to. Fucking asshole!
At the elevator she turns and cups my cheek in her palm, reaching up to kiss me on the lips softly. "I love you, Christian Grey. I really really do but right now, I need to figure my shit out. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself for anyone and that's exactly what I feel like I'm doing lately. I'll be back, and I'll be back soon but right now, this is all on my terms." My eyes fill again and she kisses the hollow of my throat when the doors open. "I'm not leaving you, I'll never leave you, I just need a small break. Trust me, I need this, I need to be alone right now."
Sawyer and Taylor are standing in the doorway, Sawyer with keys in his hand but I wave them off and wipe my nose. "Be safe, please, Ana. If something happens to you I'll never get over it."
"I'll be safe and I love you. I'll call you later."
When the doors close Sawyer makes a beeline for the staff elevator but I call him back.
"Let her go, she'll be watching for you. Turn on the tracking device on the Audi and make sure you keep her phone location on. Taylor, find someone who's face she doesn't know, preferably a woman and put them wherever she ends up."
"Sir." They turn and go, leaving me in the white foyer alone. Numbness takes over the fear when I crawl into bed, fully dressed, and bury my face in her pillow. It goes against every instinct I have to not follow her but my disregard for her wishes is clearly a major part of the problem here so I stay put and cry like a little bitch into her pillow.
What the fuck have I done? How did this fall apart so spectacularly in such a short amount of time?
APOV
My entire life, my entire fucking life I've had people violate me. First it was my mother who dragged me from state to state with a man who hated me. Then it was that same man who gave me my first taste of what being physically violated felt like. Then there was Jack.
And now Christian. His violation hurts differently. It feels sharp and at the same time dull. His reasonings don't matter, he sought out private information about me without my knowledge and then acted as if he didn't know. Another lie by omission. It took enormous courage for me to open up to him and tell him what happened, enormous courage and it was all for nothing. He already knew. I feel like a fool.
The tears start again. The Audi still smells new since I've not really driven it. Another loss of my independence that I didn't even realize I was losing. I've gained a lot too, I know this. But to have your personal life slowly stripped away from you, it sucks. It's hard and it's an adjustment that maybe I could have handled if it didn't come along with all the other shit.
Like, ex-lover/submissives showing up at my apartment to hand me business cards with a website address on it. Or ex-lover/submissives forming a club about my boyfriend. Or having said boyfriend freak the fuck out about the possibility of a baby. I don't want a child, not for years and years and maybe if I hadn't been so sick and if I hadn't known my own body so well I would have been freaking out as well but his fear was so thick I could have choked on it. Have we even discussed children? Do we need to? I don't even know what's important anymore. When did I become so frazzled and out of control?
I have no destination in mind so when I pull into the Ephrata TravelLodge I check on a map to see how far I am from Seattle. About three hours. Still too close but somehow too far. I want Christian, I've come to depend on him and that realization sets off a whole new wave of emotions. Despite everything, I know that his motives, however misguided, are always for my benefit. And I've left him for the night. One night, that's all I need.
There's something oddly comforting about sliding in between cheap sheets after months of luxury. I feel rebellious and more like myself than I have in weeks. The vending machine dinner I've set out for myself disgusts me so I push it aside and flick the TV on, settling on QVC. The inane background noise quiets the riot in my head and I fall into a mindless awareness. Jared's website, the medical records, my work calls and emails being routed through GEH and let's not forget the constant 'supervision' of Sawyer or Prescott.
You need them, remember what happened? What if Sawyer hadn't been there? "Fuck off." I say out loud and then laugh at the crazy that is descending on me. I am in a $69 a night hotel, paid for in cash as if I'm on the run, watching QVC, eating stale chocolate donuts for dinner and talking to myself. I should call Lifetime and sell them the rights to the movie.
I'm shocked, shocked that he hasn't called me. He's actually respected my boundaries for once. At midnight I call his phone and he picks up before the first ring ends.
"Ana."
"Hi, Christian. I'm fine, safe, locked in for the night."
"Come home. I'll do anything you want, just come home to me." He sounds sad and desperate. My heart cracks but my brain kicks on, takes over and settles in for the night.
"I will. I told you, I'm not leaving you. But you have to learn to let me have my own life. You can't just violate my privacy because I'm not giving you the answers you want. And last night, I'm still confused about last night." I don't even know where to start digging out of that mind fuck. Deep breath, pause, another deep breath. "I'm a person, an individual, not just some woman you fuck for fun."
"I know. I'm sorry. I fucked up." The words are so soft I can barely hear them. "Did you eat?" I laugh and fling the Butterfinger onto the night table.
"Not really, I can't. That migraine medicine still has me sick to my stomach."
"You need to eat, Anastasia." Anastasia. He's got a set on him, I'll give him that.
"Did you eat?" Silence. "Didn't think so. I'm going to bed, I'll call you sometime tomorrow."
"When will you be home?" I sigh and pick at the threads on the cheap ugly comforter.
"Tomorrow." We don't say I love you, we don't even say goodbye, we just hang up. That familiar niggling in the back of my brain begins again. Something's off, I know this man so well that I know something's not right. That conversation was missing something.
At 3:49 I wake with a start, clarity seeping through for the first time in two days. He never asked where I was. Because he already knows. I'd laugh if I could stop crying.
Authors note: Yes, Lillian the sub is a total homage to our Lillian121. Lillian the sub plays a hero here so stay tuned...Love that lady!