Chapter Eleven: Demons
Songs: Demons by Imagine Dragons & Stay by Rihanna.
NOTE: The art gallery scene is from the excerpt from Darker (chapter one)
Christian entered the art gallery alone with security detail placed in strategic locations outside the perimeter. Today, he was wearing casual business attire rather than a disguise. He was taking his chances going out in public like this, giving the Paparazzi a clear view of his transaction. He had just purchased the entire collection of candid photographs that Jose Rodriguez had taken of Anastasia Steele.
He could only imagine what the headlines would say.
Billionaire spotted alone at a local art gallery buying art from a relatively unknown amateur artist...
Not interesting enough, he supposed, unless they got a snapshot of him talking to Anastasia.
Billionaire besotted by stunning blue-eyed girl of modest means. The girl has been identified as a young WCU graduate with no political or notable connections...
He almost ran into the two lovebirds, Kate and Elliot, who exited the building with their arms tightly wrapped around one another.
He spotted Ana as soon as he turned the corner. He was about to approach her when the sight of Jose made him freeze in his tracks. Jose lifted HIS Ana in his arms, spinning her around in a bear hug and sending a direct punch to his gut.
Hiding behind a pillar, he leaned closer, his fine ears tuning to their conversation.
"Thanks for warning me about the portraits," Ana said sarcastically.
"Shit, Ana. I should have told you. D'you like them?"
Ana gave a half-shrug as a response.
"Well, they're all sold so somebody likes them. How cool is that?"
"I'm so happy for you, really," Ana smiled at him.
"Thanks! Jose beamed at her.
"I care a lot about you, Jose...I'm so glad there are no hard feelings between us."
Jose hugged her tighter. Right then, Ana's eyes connected with Christian as he slowly made his way across the room, his expression sinister.
"Mr. Rodriguez, congratulations on your success," Christian said, his tone icily polite.
"Mr. Grey," Ana said, matching his tone. "Nice to see you... here?"
"Small world indeed," Christian said smoothly, pinning Ana with his gaze. "I'm glad I ran into you, Ms. Steele. I believe you and I have some business to take care of."
Ana gave him a questioning look.
Holding her gaze, Christian pleaded for her tacit agreement.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, " Christian murmured, emphasizing the plural pronoun, taking hold of Ana's hand. "We have a meeting after to attend."
Jose's eyes widened and focused on Christian suspiciously.
"I'll fill you in later, Jose," Ana replied, "bye, congratulations!" she hastily added as Christian dragged her out of the building.
After quickly glancing to the right and then to the left, he quickly whisked her off into a side alley.
"You need to stop stalking me," she mumbled indignantly, beyond pissed. "I thought I made it pretty clear whatever we had, it's over."
She moved as if to walk back into the building, but he stopped her, pushing her against the wall.
"Anastasia, please stay. Hear me out, just five minutes? Let's grab a coffee or something."
"I prefer tea."
Christian pressed his lips together tightly. "Of course." He nodded, knowing he was on borrowed time.
Her pouty, stubborn expression was a major turn-on, however.
Grabbing her face between his hands, he forced her to look into his eyes.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Anastasia."
Before she had the chance to breathe, his lips covered her mouth hungrily, and she gasped.
Desire exploded around them like the fourth of July. Oh, God. God! She kissed him back, matching his fervor; her hands tangled in his hair, pulling it hard. It was as if she were a vampire wanting to drink every ounce of him.
Christian groaned hard, his hands moving alongside her body.
She broke the kiss, panting, pushing him away. Her eyes, however, told a different story; they were ablaze with desire.
"I need you, Anastasia. These last few days have been hell. All my instincts tell me to let you go... they tell me I don't deserve you."
"They have been hell for me too. You came into my life like a tsunami and blindsided me. You were supposed to be my secret fantasy...like..like porn, something you indulge in the privacy of your own home but that you would NEVER allow to be exposed."
Christian blinked in surprise. Porn? The comparison was shocking, but at the same time so raw, so real. It worked.
"You were supposed to stay a fantasy. My twisted, secret fantasy. I never really wanted you to become a reality. Don't you see?"
She really had no idea what she was doing to him. Didn't she realize that this come-and-get-me-if-you-can-rollercoaster ride only made him want her more?
"You were supposed to stay a fantasy!
She was holding him at arms-length, resisting him. Her body, however, told a different story. It made no attempt to get away from him. Her body heat and her scent were sending vibrations all the way down to his dick.
Dammit!
He needed to make love to her properly. And then, he was sure, she would never want him to go.
"Who gave you the right to waltz into my life and tear apart everything I've built? I've spent all my life playing it safe...do you know what it was like having to sit at the clinic waiting to fix a mistake?"
Christian let out a long exhale. The pain in her eyes was palpable. He would have waited. He should have waited and made their first time together special.
"Those photos that the boy took, I can see how he sees you. Beautiful and untroubled. And, now here you sit. I see your pain. It's hard knowing I'm the one who's made you feel this way."
His words seemed to strike a chord. Her eyes softened, and her entire body visibly relaxed.
"Let's get you some tea," he said, taking her hand.
They walked together and sat at a bistro table outdoors in plain sight. Out of the corner of his eye, Christian realized they were being photographed.
Sometimes, you just have to let things be.
They sat together in companionable silence until the waitress brought them coffee and tea.
"Who's your favorite author?"
"I love English Literature. But my vote goes to an American, Louisa May Alcott."
"Mine is Hemingway. They say Hemingway wrote day and night often without eating or sleeping," he told her. "His writing style was simple as he focused on dialogue and action. He believed writers should 'show' and not "tell." he paused, gauging her attention.
She tilted her head inquisitively. Good. She was interested for sure.
"Hemingway wrestled with inner demons throughout his life that eventually led to his suicide. His feverish writing sprints...those stories he wrote in feverish sprints he wrote not because he wanted to but because he HAD to. He couldn't stop... NOT until he got it ALL out of his system. In his later years, he forbade his family to disturb him. Nothing in the outside world could pull him away from his writing not until the demons had left the building, and he emerged again many days later."
"He was a tortured soul," she said barely above a whisper. "I think I've felt broken like that."
Christian smiled, knowing he had succeeded. She had stopped resisting, like a hummingbird resting gently on the palm of his hand.
"Come with me, Ana. Let's go somewhere private where we can be together. Let me make love to you the right way, no rush. Just this one time. And if, after tonight, you still want to leave, I promise I will leave you alone."
Looking into her eyes, he saw her resistant heart wrestling, emotions flickering.
Not really sure how to feel about it
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you
It takes me all the way...
Breaking eye contact, her gaze shifted to their surroundings as if looking for an emergency exit.
"I want you to stay with me tonight."
Ooh, the reason I hold on
Ooh, 'cause I need this hole gone
Well, funny you say you're the broken one
But I'm the only one who needed saving
'Cause when you never see the light
It's hard to know which one of us is caving.
She stared back at him, speechless.
"I don't think Hemingway had a choice. He had to write until every single word bled out," he mumbled softly.
She exhaled deeply. Her ocean-blue eyes gaped at him, like a lost vessel tossed about in a storm.
Christian reached for her hand across the table and kissed her knuckles tenderly.
"There's a nice hotel only a block away. Let's stay there the night. We can talk, no pressure...I won't ask for anything in return, I promise."
She gave him a long skeptical look.
"One night, that's all I ask. And if you still want me gone come morning, I will respect your wishes. Promise."
Much to his delight, Ana accepted his indecent proposal. Any outside would have pegged them as a happy couple as they strolled into the hotel lobby, hand in hand.
"You really will leave me alone?" She asked as if she didn't really believe he would ever stop his relentless pursuit.
"You have my word, Anastasia," he replied earnestly.
While Christian spoke to the hotel clerk, Ana sat with her phone. Every once in a while, he glanced back to check if she was still there.
Even while they rode up the elevator to their room, he half expected her to announce she'd changed her mind.
Once inside the suite, it took Christian a great amount of self-restraint to keep from pouncing on her like a hormone-crazed teenage boy.
Ana regarded her surroundings at her leisure. She hadn't been in a hotel in ages, she said. She then stretched out on the bed and turned on the TV, and all at once, an episode of Friends captured her attention.
She threw her head back and laughed at something funny one of the characters said. Christian didn't know who, as sitcoms were his least favorite trope.
"Don't you think Joey's hilarious?"
He shrugged. Then, he came around the other side of the bed. "My soul is too dark to have a sense of humor."
He then took off his jacket, shoes, and socks before lying down on the bed beside her. He couldn't completely relax as much of his concentration was spent sitting on his hands to keep them from straying.
Don't mess up, Grey. She's giving you another chance. Follow her lead.
Christian, why do you think you have a dark soul? I would never say that... you're a good man. I can see that."
"I was touched by darkness at a young age. There was this woman, her name was Elena. She...we had sex."
"How young were you?"
"I was fifteen."
"She was a sadist. She loved making me suffer. I don't want to go into all the details. It's hard talking about this."
Ana chewed her lip and leaned her body closer to him.
"What Elena did was so monstrously wrong on so many levels. Intellectually, I know that. But there's a dark side of me, Anastasia, a side of me I need to protect you from. I thought I processed this, and, in some ways, I had healed..."
"Christian, I think you're being too harsh on yourself. This woman, Elena, is a pedophile. What she did, I have no words..." she paused, momentarily flustered. And you probably felt alone in this, but none of it was your fault."
"I suppose it wasn't. But that's not all. I'm fucked up in fifty different ways," he exhaled deeply.
She reached to touch his cheek with the back of her hand. He leaned into her hand but pulled back when her hand casually went to trail the length of his chest.
This kind of intimacy was exactly the thing he'd been trying to avoid.
"I have issues with touch," he murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"It's complicated."
"Try me."
"I wanted you, Ana, from the moment we met. And then at the restaurant, I came to you the only way I knew how. I wanted you so much...but I didn't want you to touch me," he breathed, looking away."
She looked at him, momentarily confused. "But...it all happened so fast..."
"Exactly. That was the only way I could ensure you wouldn't get a chance to touch me."
Ana looked at him, too stunned to speak.
Your eyes; they shine so bright
I wanna save that light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how.
His fucked-up confession had tumbled out of his lips wholly uncensored and it was too late to take it back.
Don't wanna let you down
But I am hell-bound
Though this is all for you
Don't wanna hide the truth.
She was silent for a long time. Her silence stretched so long, that he braced himself for her inevitable departure.
"Please say something. Anything. Ask me any question."
"Tell me about Leila."
"Leila and I had a carnal, twisted, fucked up relationship. It was filthy and degrading... and I was hooked and happy because I thought that's what I deserved."
Ana's gaze suddenly returned to the TV screen. Christian watched long enough to understand it was about a couple in bed the morning after heavy drinking. They turn to one another and scream, their memories of the previous night erased.
Her gaze shifted back to him. The scene was supposed to be funny, but there was no amusement in her eyes, just a big question mark.
"She was the master, and I was the slave. I craved filth...I come from filth...I am filth."
Ana's jaw went completely slack. She was horrified, of course, and Christian was horrified along with her. He was bearing his wretched soul wide open on a large operating table for her to look at and dissect.
No sane person could blame her if she decided to go on her merry way.
I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide.
Exposing the darkness in his soul was a gamble. But if it was the only way he could get her to understand and not leave him.
"She told me I was special."
"Leila?"
"Leila doesn't really know me. She doesn't even know half the things I told you tonight. I was talking about Elena. That's how she got me. I wanted to be better than everyone. But the truth is that instead of becoming better, I became filthier...in some twisted way, that's all I know."
Ana didn't move, hanging on to his every word.
"Depravity is like a cloak I discard, but that keeps turning up again, and again," he said. "I was born in filth, Anastasia. That's why I'm more comfortable in the darkness."
"I want to be with you, Christian. You're not filth... you're beautiful to me just as you are, fucked up and all..."
Christian's eyes widened. Had she really said that?
He watched as she turned off the TV and got out of bed. Then, she slowly shimmied out of her jeans, blouse, and bra. He loved how she maintained steady eye contact with him, as though, she had undressed for him a thousand times before.
Then, she went about the room, folding her clothes over a chair and turning off all the lamps, leaving only the light of the moon shining through the open curtains.
At last, she was back in bed with him, clad in her panties. God, he was dying. He was dying to sink deep inside of her.
She slid closer to him, hugging herself. His body inched to meet hers, legs tucked under him.
"I have your picture tucked under my pillow...It's been there for months and is still there, you know," she smiled as her fingers methodically unfastened the buttons of his crisp linen shirt.
Christian felt himself sinking, marinating in exquisite torture. His eyes remained connected to hers as she finished peeling the shirt off his shoulders.
Her fingers traveled down to undo his pants and without breaking eye contact, the back of her hand lingered against his hardness.
"I've tried shoving it in a drawer, but somehow, it always manages to sneak back to its secret spot underneath my pillow."
She was giving him something precious. She was giving him a private tour of her heart and soul.
"So I've decided to just let it stay there," she whispered, his face in her hands as she kissed his brows.
"Because I enjoy dreaming...and I enjoyed you inside of me."
He stared at her lips, his heart racing. That was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful thing she could have said.
She leaned closer, and his hand went behind her nape, his mouth, at last, covering hers with a long deep groan.
Her lips were as soft and delicious as he remembered. He drew her down underneath him in one seamless motion, deepening the kiss and letting out a deeper, hungry groan.
"Is this what you want?" he panted.
"YES, YES!"
They made love sweet and slow ( and yes, this time he made sure to wear a condom). He took the lead, wordlessly guiding her hand to the areas of his body that were okay to touch.
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close, it's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide.
Watching her come undone as their bodies glided together, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the one.
She got so close, closer than any other woman to almost touching the scars on his chest.
He eased out of her and was relieved to see that she didn't regret one single second of it. Against all odds, her face was glowing. She was happy.
"It was my mother's pimp," he later told her as she lay wrapped up in his arms, "he used me as his personal ashtray."
Ana's eyes filled with tears, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand.
"And your mother? Was she also abusive?"
"She was a monster who let bad things happen to me. She neglected me, starved me.
In all, it wasn't the beatings or the burns that were the worst but that she stood by and did nothing."
"That's pretty fucked up!" Ana gasped, shaken.
"Fifty shades," he murmured. "I remember being stuck with her for days, not knowing what to do. I tried everything to wake her. I was hungry, but, there was no food in the house except frozen peas. Have you ever tasted frozen peas?"
Ana shook her head, her blue eyes wide as the ocean.
"When it got dark, I would bring my blanket and lay alongside her. I didn't know she was dying. One morning, she opened her eyes and looked at me. She said my name and told me she loved me.
By now, Ana was wiping a stream of tears from her eyes. But he didn't look directly at her. Instead, he looked at the dark TV screen.
"And I felt it. I knew it was true. I knew she loved me. I will never forget her last words to me. Of course, for the longest time, I didn't understand. It took me so long..."
"Oh, Christian," Ana kissed his cheek tenderly. "You were a little boy, don't beat yourself up...it was natural for you to love your mother."
"But she didn't deserve it... she was a monster."
"There was a lovable side of her too... and that's okay. She was human."
Christian partially accepted that.
"Do you remember her last words?" She prompted tentatively.
"She said: Take in every moment. Live. Don't waste time."
They sat in silence, pondering the meaning of those words.
"Ella wasn't a writer or a poet. She was a prostitute and a drug addict. Yet, those were her pearls of wisdom," he sneered. "The thing is, that was her life in a nutshell. She only ever lived in the present to the exclusion of the future."
"Christian...I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. I just want you to understand... why I should never become a parent. I don't want to do what Ella did to me. I don't ever want to be responsible for inflicting hurt on a poor innocent child."
"But you wouldn't..."
"Who's to say? According to Dr. Flynn, this kind of trauma goes back generations."
"That's why I don't like Freudian psychology. It makes us human beings as hopeless victims of our past. Your Dr. Flynn should read Adler's psychology. Adler believed in the power of the human spirit to overcome our traumas and limitations."
"Duly noted. I'll pass along the message."
Christian sighed and kissed the top of her head. In her arms, he felt accepted. She accepted the monster instead of recoiling. Her body was so attuned to his that for a brief moment, he allowed himself the fantasy
of erasing the pain of his childhood experience. In her arms, he could be a new more deserving Christian. He could reinvent himself and pretend he'd been born in a comfy crib, lovingly purchased months ahead and rocked to sleep by Grace and Carrick.
The second time they made love, their lovemaking was more urgent, more desperate. He focused on her pleasure and made sure she came hard twice, just in case she changed her mind, and this was their last time together.
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close, it's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide.
The next morning...
Christian stirred to find Ana was out of bed and already dressed. She was messing with the coffee maker. His heart sank.
She's leaving.
"Good morning," she said warmly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How did you sleep?"
She was smiling, so that was good news. So he sank back on the pillow, arm tucked underneath his head.
"Better than I've had in weeks. You hugged me in your sleep."
"I did?"
"And I was fine with it."
Ana smiled at him. "I have to go. Kate is already up in arms, ready to send a rescue squad."
"Text her."
She shook her head, determined to leave.
"I want you to stay with me for the rest of our lives..."
A/N:
Dolores: We are SO close now. Don't miss the next couple of chapters. We will finally learn why Christian thinks ( in the future) that he'd ruined their lives and that Ana will not be accepting of Bella.
Take a look at the UPDATED STORY DESCRIPTION, and let me know what you think!
