Chapter Twenty-Two
~Anastasia~
Click-clack click-clack-click-clack
The sound of high heels on the dark wood floor break through the silence. I follow, slinking behind, holding my shoes in my left hand. My footfalls are silent. It's like I'm a ghost.
A flash of black and platinum blonde turns a corner. I turn the corner. The lights are on. I watch the red soles. There's a dimmer switch on the wall. My fingers touch it and all goes dark.
The click-clack stops.
Two weeks later
My husband, in his black suit with gray tie beauty, is glaring at the front door of his childhood home.
Rather, mansion. Christian's childhood, colonial-style mansion. It's a mansion.
You'd think the front door had personally offended him considering his ferocious stare.
"I'm going to press the doorbell if you don't," I say, staring at his perfect profile.
My arms are cold.
"Fuck me," he says, running a hand through his hair.
I point at the growing baby underneath this one shoulder Column gown. "I already did."
He doesn't look at me. It's a good thing his eyes aren't flamethrowers. If they were, this door would be dust. "I hate these clusterfucks."
"Mr. Grey, you're going to have to clean up your language before our child's born."
"What fucking ever, Mrs. Grey," he says, finally looking down at me.
I playfully kick his leg with a stupidly expensive Manolo ballerina flat.
A car door closes and I turn around. Sawyer's unloaded our traveling bags since we're staying overnight. After what will undoubtedly be a miserable night.
Tonight is a dinner party celebrating Carrick's retirement, or as Christian's been referring to it for the past few days – bullshit for pretentious fucks. I wholeheartedly agree. The drive way is littered with cars that were all bought at luxury dealerships. I'm positive their owners are going to be checking me out considering this is my first public outing since I shot a woman to death inside a chic hotel suite. I can't wait for all the blatant stares and behind my back murmurings. Tongues will really wag when people see wedding rings on our fingers and the bump displaying the little Grey I'm carrying.
A small wind coming off Meydenbauer Bay has a chill in the air that's wrapping around us. The flimsy wrap I have over my bare shoulders isn't warding it off, either.
"I hate this shit," he replies under his breath, finally pressing the doorbell.
"Yeah, I'm begging for a dinner in the "large" dining room, as Mia told me," I hiss. "Why do you rich people have a normal dining room and one that's as big as hockey rink?"
"You're rich, too, remember."
"Whatever. I've only got a twenty in here." I shake my clutch in his face.
"No, you don't. I put five hundred in there." He smirks at me.
"What? Why in the hell do I need five hundred dollars? Are your parents requiring a cover charge for this soiree?"
I open my clutch to find five crisp hundred dollar bills. I sigh.
The door swings open to reveal Elliot, who's also in a black suit. His blue tie is the same shade as his eyes. He smiles and pulls me into a bear hug.
Now Christian's glaring at him.
"I missed my girl," he exclaims. He smells like whiskey and cigar smoke.
"You saw her three days ago. Get your paws off my wife," Christian tells him.
Elliot puts me down in the large vestibule. "Have you been smoking a cigar?" I ask, crinkling my nose.
"It reeks, doesn't it?" Kate calls out from behind him. "I leave him alone for twenty minutes and he's out back lighting one up with Judge Holliman."
"Holliman?" Christian says in a low voice. "Is every judge in King County here?"
Elliot shrugs. "More or less. What'd you expect? It's going to be a lawyer-lollapalooza by the end of the night."
"Fucking great," Christian mutters.
I shuffle to Kate. Her hair is up and she's a vision in a marigold, floor length silk gown. It's sleeveless, the back is cut out, and it as a cowl neckline. She's gorgeous on sky high heels that have her looming over me.
"A skin tight gown that shows off baby Grey. I approve. And the blue really brings out your eyes. Looking good, Steele."
"You look beautiful. It's a mystery how you can walk in those hells, though."
We all continue our small talk as we make our way into the spacious living room. It's a comfortable and understated room that's furnished in dark greens and cream. Furniture has been moved about to allow the throng of guests to stand around and mingle.
It's very loud in the room and I don't like it. I'm already full of dread.
The Grey's housekeeper appears out of thing air with a tray of champagne. Kate's the only one who grabs a glass.
Looking around, the only people that I recognize are members of Christian's family. And as predicted, I'm being sized up by every person I stroll by, and all that Christian introduces me to. I understand their curiosity, though. It's natural; you usually don't meet someone who shot another person to death at a party.
Eyes have also landed on baby Grey and my wedding rings. Most of the women have gawked openly. Nearly all have asked when I'm due and when we got married. I answer the latter question. The former isn't any of their business.
The house smells of various brands of over priced perfume and it's nauseating. Kate must sense my growing anxiety because she takes my hand and squeezes it. "Everything's good," she says softly. "Let's go find a place for you to sit down."
"I'd much rather find a place to escape."
"You and me both," she replies. Kate finds us refuge across the room in the form of a large window seat. It's all green toile and the view from the window is a full moon over Meydenbauer Bay. It would be perfect if I didn't have the urge to dig my nails into my palms.
Mia, who like Kate, has her hair up, walks to us. Ethan's by her side. She looks phenomenal in a champagne-colored halter dress with a thigh high slit. There's a keyhole at the center bust. Also, like Kate, Mia's towering in sky scraper heels. After greetings, hugs, and acting like both weren't at the penthouse for dinner days ago, Mia sits down beside me. Ethan casually leans against the wall. Both are nursing glasses of champagne.
Ethan's asking me about Zanzibar and I'm answering appropriately, even though the crowd seems to be swelling and my anxiety is now immense. I feel too hot and shrug off the wrap.
God, I hate loud mouths.
Christian and Elliot materialize. My husband looks at me and squats down. It's apparent he's concerned. I hold up my hand before he can ask.
"Please don't ask the same question everyone here has already asked. I'm fine," I tell him. "I just need to sit and relax."
Thankfully, he knows better than to press. He stands, Elliot shuffling closer to him. Along with Ethan, they're like a human fence hiding the window seat and I'm grateful.
The chatter in the room has grown exponentially and is throwing salt on the open wound that is my panic. This is just like Grace's birthday party; I can't deal with all of these people. Tonight's worse because I'm pregnant and my body often disagrees with that fact. My lower back cramps, I feel sick, and the taut skin of my abdomen itches.
It's anxiety that's got a hold of me now.
Kate and Mia, sitting on opposite sides of me, are prattling on about something, however I'm not following. I feel like I'm a broken car thermostat and am about to overheat.
"You aren't the only one that's surprised that he's here. I had no idea that Dad was still Linc's attorney." Elliot's deep baritone slices through whatever Kate and Mia as discussing and they quiet.
Christian's hands fist and he shoves them in his pants pocket. "I was aware of it, but frankly, I didn't expect him to be invited," he replies.
Kate's looking around Ethan. She looks perplexed.
"So, your dad got Linc in the divorce and your mom kept –" Ethan starts.
Kate tugs on his suit jacket. "Not now," she harshly interrupts him. Ethan's turned his head and is staring at his sister strangely. Kate shakes her head and he looks away. Weird.
Christian levels a frown at Mia. "Were you in charge of this party?"
Mia raises her glass of champagne to her mouth. "This is all on Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey," she answers. Her voice is low. Unlike Kate, Mia doesn't try to look around her brothers.
I think I'm becoming more anxious because I feel claustrophobic. I'm closely between Kate and Mia, and the men are cocooning us. My back's beginning to sweat underneath this designer gown. It will be a miracle if I don't freak out and run away.
Elliot and Christian are muttering to each other. Kate and Mia have resumed their inconsequential babbling and Ethan's still casually leaning against the wall. Why does he always look so relaxed?
I'm just sitting and wishing I could escape through the French doors.
"Well, this night just got interesting," Ethan says wryly.
"Why?" Mia asks.
Ethan steps away, allowing her to see the crowd. Her eyes widen and quickly dart to the backs of her brothers. Her good humor has dissipated and she suddenly stands, worming her way between her boyfriend and Christian.
I turn to look at Kate, but find that she's now standing between Elliot and Christian, who have both straightened to their full height. I glance at all of their backs.
They're a human daisy chain and around me is an undercurrent of grim hostility.
Kate leans on Elliot and whispers in his ear. Christian sits down beside me. He shifts uncomfortably and pulls me closer, putting an arm around me. He's allowed me full view of the crowded room.
Elliot's holding the glass of bourbon in his hand so tightly that I watch as his knuckles go white.
Kate's entire body is so taut it looks as though it could snap if I poked her.
What's going on?
Every head around me is turned to the left. My eyes search out what they're all glaring at. Ethan isn't glaring; his eyes are darting from one side of the vast room to the other.
My eyes find what everyone is staring at – a tall platinum blonde.
Oh, my. Hello, Mrs. Lincoln.
I watch my mother-in-law greet her and involuntarily shudder. I don't understand Grace, and as I watch their interaction, I consider that perhaps Grace doesn't like me. It's confusing.
I watch Elena Lincoln, wearing a quite provocative black gown, greet people as she makes her way further into the room. Her smile is wide and her teeth look a bright white set against her tanning bed tan.
My stomach turns as I watch her. My heart rate picks up and my mouth dries. I'm having a visceral reaction to a woman that I don't remember. I know who she is, and I've been told that I blacked out the minute I saw her at Grace's birthday part. Now that makes sense.
God, don't let me have an episode tonight when she makes her way to us. Because there's no doubt she'll sashay her pedophile ass our way.
We watch Carrick nod at her, his smile comes in the form of two narrow lines. She makes an attempt to engage him in conversation, but he dismisses her for two men that approach him. Her too white smile falters a bit, but she quickly recovers and makes her way to another poor soul that isn't aware that she should be in prison.
Mia knocks me out of my trance by hissing at a furious looking Kate, "I didn't know." I catch the almost apologetic look Mia's thrown at me.
Wait a minute. Mia?
"It's okay, baby. You're going to be fine," Christian whispers, his lips are in my hair.
Elliot turns to his younger brother. His expression is impassive. His eyes are feral. Christian meets his brother's stare head on. I peer between both men and then Elliot looks down at me. I try to look as natural as I can. Christian hasn't told Elliot that I know the truth about this evil woman. I don't think it would be proper to have that big reveal right now.
Once Elena Lincoln has air kissed several people in the room, as predicted, she makes her way to us.
"Breathe, Ana," my husband whispers again. His words are barely audible. Fingers pull me even closer to him. His expression is blank. He's giving nothing away.
Kate's boring a hole in Christian's head. She looks like she wants to murder him. Why, though? I'd thought she didn't like Elena Lincoln because her mother didn't. If that's the case, why is she looking at Christian with murder in her eyes? Did Elliot tell her?
No, he wouldn't.
Unlike Grace's birthday party, when she was met with loud and rude grumblings, this time, deafening silence greets Elena. Elliot, Mia, and Kate stand shoulder to shoulder in front of me. In front of Christian. Ethan's the only one relaxed as the leans on the wall, however, he doesn't appear welcoming either.
Looking past this woman, I catch Grace watching us. Her eyes slide from Elena, and then move to me. Then to Christian. I stare back, Grace frowns. Something isn't right. I've no idea what, though.
Everything happening right now is so fucked.
I feel like throwing up.
"Good evening," she says, smiling. "You all look well." Her voice is as soft as it was the day I answered Christian's phone.
"Good evening, Mrs. Lincoln. Thank you, we are all wonderful," Mia replies. Her voice is void of emotion.
Elena Lincoln laughs. "Dear, Mia. I've told you countless times to call me Elena. After all, I've known you since you were a little girl."
We don't laugh along with her. In fact, Elliot reaches out an arm in front of his little sister as if to protect her.
"Of course." Mia's two-word reply is curt. If Elena is shocked or affected by it, she hides it well.
The bitch's blue eyes pry their way through the human shield in front of me. I watch them trail over me and how they fractionally widen when she sees baby Grey. I place my left hand over my pregnant bump to make sure that she sees my wedding rings.
Her jaw slackens, although if you blinked you would have missed it.
"Anastasia, Christian, you both look wonderful. How was your exotic getaway?" she asks. Her lips are covered with thick red lipstick that matches her long fingernails.
I bristle. Is Grace telling this slut things about our life? Well, I guess she is since she considers Elena a friend, but I won't stand for it. It's wrong. I just haven't figured out how to stop it. Yet.
I seem to shock everyone, including the bitch, when I stand, gazing at her intently. "Elena, it was wonderful. We'll always hold it close in hearts since it's where we got married. It was blissful." My voice is hard and edged with hostility. My left hand is still on baby Grey.
I feel eyes on me as I stare at this child molester. A spark fires in Elena's eyes. She blinks, it disappears, and she's once again smiling. "Congratulations on your marriage and the baby. Grace didn't tell me your wonderful news." Elena pauses and bites her lower lip. Her eyes flit from me to my husband. "I'm so glad you got away after your terrible ordeal. I can't imagine going through such a nightmare," she goes on softly. "Oh, I'm sorry for bringing that up. I don't mean to upset you."
If I didn't know better, I'd think sincerity rang true through her words. No, wait, I don't think an idiot would believe she sounded sincere. And to bring up what happened with Leila Williams? This bitch should pray we don't end up alone in a room. Yeah, she should really think about that.
Christian rises and his stance is commanding. His demeanor is cold and distant. It's like he's grown taller. "Yes, Elena, it's best not to ever bring that up," he tells her. The anger under his tone is palpable.
I don't like hearing her name on Christian's lips.
"Elena, despite not remembering you at all, I do appreciate your concern." My words are artic.
Christian's arm goes around my waist. She's watching his every movement like a hawk and I want to rip her eyes from their sockets.
She bites her lip again and I'm pretty sure that Elliot just growled.
"Yes, you've been through so much. I do hope your memory returns," she says.
"We are all praying for Ana to regain her full memory, Elena. Enjoy your night," Mia tells her.
"Mia's right. I don't know if you saw him, but Linc's nearby. Hopefully, the two of you aren't seated together," Elliot says blandly.
Who the hell is Linc?
Whoever he is, Elena has paled. She blinks rapidly, opens and closes her mouth a few times, and then seems to compose herself. Elliott's words visibly rocked her. She doesn't say another word. Instead, she nods, and with another broad smile, walks away.
I can't let myself sag from relief because I don't want to raise any suspicions. The adrenaline that had me on my feet has abated and I feel anxious. All of this cloak and dagger shit is exhausting.
Ethan pushes off the wall and laughs. "Good job rattling her, Elliot. I wanted to witness those two have a head on collision, but watching her nearly faint was great."
I've had enough. "Who's Linc?" I ask them.
"Her ex-husband. Last name Lincoln. He's goes by Linc," Ethan answers.
Christian tenses.
Why?
"Eth, you forgot to say that he's the ex who beat her ass and put her in the hospital," Mia murmurs.
"What? Why?" I sound too interested. Dial it back, Ana.
Ethan shrugs. "She was having an affair, he found out, and beat the shit out of her."
I dial it way back. I don't have to ask who she was having an affair with. It was Christian, and that was a crime, not an affair. More fucked up shit. This could be a soap opera.
"Kate, unruffle your feathers, she's gone," Ethan continues.
She doesn't respond, so he says, "Kate. Wake up."
She looks at her brother. "I wasn't asleep, asshole. I was paying attention to that cockroach."
"Cockroach?" he replies.
"A cockroach that someone needs to step on before it can lay any more eggs," she tells him.
What?
You feel that strongly about who your mother dislikes? No, Kavanagh, no, you don't.
I step in front of her.
We stare at one another.
She licks her lips.
Her fury is now a simmering anger.
I see the conflict written all over her face.
Tell me what's going on, Katherine.
She doesn't back out of our staring contest; her shoulders do relax.
Then, Elliot throws his drink back and wraps his arm around her. I watch his fingers squeeze her waist.
She looks at him strangely.
Kate doesn't look at me again.
Christian leans down and whispers in my ear, "You, okay?"
I nod. I don't trust my voice right now.
"You look like you're about to have a panic attack." He looks worried.
"That's because I am."
The loud, over crowded room feels like it's centered on my chest and leaving no room for me to breathe. It's a shame for me to soak this gown with sweat, but I can't help it. I've got to get out of here.
I'm arguing with Christian and Kate about whether I can go to the bathroom on my own when I spot Grace. She's with her mother-in-law, who looks to be talking her ear off. Grace doesn't appear to be paying attention.
No, Grace's attention is directly on our little group.
She smiles at me; I don't return it.
Why has she invited Elena Lincoln back into her life after finding out how that bitch had treated me?
"I'll take you, Anastasia," Christian says.
I sigh. "Am I an adult? Christian? Am I?"
"Of course. I just want to take you. I don't want you to run into…"
"I won't. She went into the dining room. We both watched her."
"I'll take you, Ana," Kate pipes in.
I throw my head back. "No! For God's sake. I'm going alone."
Both of the control freaks sigh at the same time.
"Just use one down here. Don't go upstairs," Christian says, as I walk away.
I'm stopped a few times for inane pleasantries before I make it to the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and take a look at myself in the mirror. The adrenaline rush I had has left and I'm feeling shaky and weak in the legs. I'm surprised that I don't look as bad as I thought I would. I kick off my shoes and struggle to gather up the fabric of this damn long gown. Maybe I should have let Kate come with me.
I don't get up after I flush the toilet. I'm hot and entirely too anxious to deal with another human being at the moment. I'm tired and confused. I drop my head into my hands. I'm just exhausted. I'm too exhausted to even think straight. I don't know what happened, but I open my eyes and I'm sitting sideways on the toilet, with my head resting on the sink vanity. I shake my head hoping it clears my mind. Was I asleep or did I pass out? How long have I been in here?
I'm surprised Christian hasn't come looking for me. I get up and wash my hands. I wish that I could stay in here until this awful night is over. I'm not sure what I'll do if I have another face to face with Elena Lincoln.
I inhale deeply before opening the door. I still don't understand how I just fell asleep sitting on the toilet.
I walk out and hit a hard body. I gasp as strong hands grab my upper arms so I don't fall down. I look up at the man who I've crashed into.
"Are you all right?" he asks. "Can you stand?"
"Yes, thank you." I step out of his hands and back up.
The man, older, with graying hair and brown eyes, smiles. He's quite handsome and well dressed. I hope that he isn't someone that I used to know and now can't remember.
"I apologize for nearly knocking you over, Ms?"
"Ana. Ana Grey," I tell him. "Apology isn't required. I wasn't paying attention. Thank you for catching me, though."
His head tilts a fraction. "Ana Grey?"
"Yes. Have we met?"
His smile broadens. "No, we haven't, Mrs. Grey."
I stare, waiting for him to introduce himself. I'm beginning to think every rich person is plain weird.
I hold my hand out. "Ana Grey, it's nice to meet you?"
Instead of shaking my hand he kisses it. I pull my arm back and he grins again.
"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Grey. You can call me Linc."
It takes my mind a minute to rewind an hour or so.
Shit. This is Elena's ex. The man who landed her in the hospital after he found out my husband was fucking her. I try to school my features so he doesn't see that I know who he is. He laughs, and I assume I didn't school them well enough.
"It's nice to meet you, Linc," I tell him.
It's a lie, though. It's not really nice to meet him. I'm also wondering why he's in this part of the house.
Once again, the pedophile beater laughs as he begins to walk past me. Mrs. Grey," he says
I turn around. "Yes?"
"Tell Christian that I said his wife is beautiful." He's smiling, but his words are hard.
OK, Linc's creepy.
He walks away and I hurry in the opposite direction. I imagine Christian's head exploding when I relay that interaction. I shiver. I walk through the maze of the ground floor. I take a right that will lead me to the dining area. I half expect to run into Christian. I can't believe he hasn't been scurrying about trying to find me since I can hear that dinner has been served. Voices that had been loud earlier, are now muffled behind the dining room's doors.
Deciding to take the long way, I pass the sweeping staircase. Both walls along the hall are covered in family pictures. I don't stop to peruse. They fly by in a blur as I go along. My long gown feels cool around my still too warm body. I wonder if Christian picked up my wrap that I'd discarded.
It's when I round the corner to where the door to the library is, that I come to a screeching halt.
The screeching halt that's brought about by a familiar raised voice.
No. Voices.
Several familiar voices that are all loud and angry.
I inch closer and reach for the door knob. I drop my hand when I hear Christian. His voice is shaking. He sounds furious.
"Elliot, you fucking couldn't keep your mouth shut? What the hell is wrong with you?"
I put my ear up to the door when I hear Kate.
"No, Grey. Elliot didn't tell me shit. I wasn't aware that he knew. Ana told me. She told me everything."
I swallow and drag in a long breath. My heart starts hammering. What are they talking about?
What is she referring to? I told Kate everything about my relationship with Christian. She knew all about it from day one. Is that what they're arguing about? Why would they be discussing that now?
"Katherine." I can hear the warning in Elliot's voice as he tries to shut her up.
She doesn't pay him any heed, because she continues. "I haven't told Ana because I want her to remember on her own. As time has passed, and she hasn't, I assumed that you would be honest and tell her your fucking self. Obviously, you can't be enough of a man and tell her. And you sure aren't enough of a man to tell that blonde slut to back the fuck off," she hisses at Christian.
Holy, fuck. Kate knows about Christian and Elena. I told her?
Oh, my God. I recall the day Kate finally told me how I'd shared everything about my early relationship with Christian. She didn't mention Elena Lincoln during that conversation, but clearly, she knows. She's saying that I told her. My mind goes back to the day I confronted her. I remember how I found one thing she said odd. I asked her to clarify that I'd told her about my relationship with Christian and she replied with:
"Steele, I know everything."
I didn't tell her I thought that sounded odd. I didn't ask her if that meant she knew more. Undoubtedly, it meant that she not only knew more, Kate knows everything.
And I told her.
How has this come to the surface? Why are they arguing about this now?
"God fucking damn!" Christian shouts, startling me on the other side of the door. "Elliot-"
"What the fuck, Christian?" Elliot interrupts him. "I'm not lying. I didn't tell Kate. I also didn't tell Mia."
Mia knows?
Does she know about my relationship with Christian and the BDSM or just Elena?
"Christian, do you honestly think Ana would keep this from Kate? They're more like sisters, not best friends. Of course, she told her." Mia jumps into the mix. "And did you think I wasn't going to ask Ana why she'd up and left those birthday dinners? Seriously, Christian, what the fuck did you expect?"
"Watch your mouth, Mia," Christian replies.
"You should have watched your dick, Grey." Kate's words could cut glass.
Oh, Kate…
"You have no fucking clue about any of this, Katherine, so shut the fuck up," he shouts. "Neither do you, Mia. This shit is complicated, you don't understand."
"The only thing that's complicated, Christian, is the fact that you fucked our mother's supposed good friend for years. That woman is currently in our house eating fucking dinner," Mia says bitterly. "I understand everything. This is easier than learning your ABC's."
"Who told you, Mia?" he asks in a more subdued tone.
"Ana."
"Ana?" Christian and Elliot ask at the same time.
I note that Kate kept quiet. She already knew.
I understand telling Kate, but Mia?
"Yes, Ana told me. Like I said, I wanted to know what was going on after she freaked out and left in the middle of your birthday party. I was concerned about her. However, I also suspected it was about Elena, and I wanted the truth. I asked her outright. Ana denied it a few times, but I finally got the truth out of her."
"No, Mia. Ana didn't tell you the entire truth," Kate loudly says. Much too loudly.
"What do you mean by that?" Mia asks.
No, Kate. Don't.
I hear a loud crash and jump.
"Kate! Stop it," Elliot tells her.
Another warning.
Another warning Kate doesn't heed. "I mean that Ana didn't tell you the whole truth. I'm not going to either because it's not my truth to tell, that's on your brother." Kate pauses. "Well, now I see it's on both of your brothers," she says sarcastically.
"Christian, Elliot, what don't I know? Tell me, I deserve to know. The last time I checked I was a part of this family," Mia pleads. "Even if we're a family of secrets."
"Mia, it's nothing. Just drop it," Elliot answers.
"No, I'm not just going to drop anything, Elliot. Wait." Mia starts and then stops.
I'm holding my breath as I wait for her to continue.
"Christian, is this about how old you were when you started fucking that horrible woman? I asked Ana and she wouldn't tell me. So, how old were you? I've had my suspicions for a long time. Answer me."
Deafening silence.
Finally, Elliot is the one who breaks. "Bro, just fucking tell her the god damn truth."
"No." Christian sounds hoarse.
"Elliot, if our brother isn't going to tell me, then you tell me. You and Christian have been allowing our mother to look like a fool for years," Mia says.
Silence.
"Kate? Do you know?" Mia goes on.
Silence.
"Mia." Christian sounds like he's begging for her to shut up.
I'm already feeling faint. Should I go in there and tell everyone that I know? No, he doesn't want Mia to know the details.
But she already does know about Elena and I'm the one who told her.
And I told Kate.
God, he's going to kill me.
"Don't 'Mia' me. Tell me how old you were? I've had a bad feeling about the two or you since I was a kid. The two of you gave off a stench that something wasn't right," Mia's saying. You also told her things you didn't share with Mom or the rest of the family. I always suspected you were fucking. She gave you the loan to start GEH..." Mia's words trail away and all falls silent.
"You were twenty-one when you started GEH. You were fucking her seven years ago? When did you stop? No, don't answer that because you two were giving off vibes long before you were twenty-one," Mia finishes.
I've never heard her so angry.
"It was over by then," Christian says, but it's like those words are hanging in the air of the library.
They all stay silent as his words evolve into meaning that I'm fucking praying that Mia does not pick up on.
My prayer goes unanswered because she exclaims, "Holy, fuck, Christian. It was over when you started GEH? You were twenty-one. When did it begin? How old were you?" Mia's sobbing.
"Put her out of her misery, Christian. Put us all out of our misery. This has got to end, man, and face it, it looks like it's ending right now." Elliot sounds like he's near tears as well.
"No, Lel. No," Christian replies. His voice is soft and low.
I'm holding my breath. I don't know if I should go in. He needs my comfort and support because shit is covering the library's walls.
"Yes! Do it, or I fucking will. I'm sick of carrying this around. Kate knows. Ana knows, she might not remember, but she knows."
The tight tension in that room is seeping out of the door. I can almost taste it.
"Ana-" Christian tries to start.
"Grey, were you not paying attention to her reaction to Elena earlier?" Kate interrupts him. "I thought she was going to remember right then and there. You need to tell her before she does," Kate finally says. Her words are no longer angry or hostile.
Something else crashes behind the door and I jump again.
"Fuck! Ana does know. She doesn't remember, so don't ask. Elliot, I told her everything before we got married. I told her the truth," Christian's saying rapidly. "Kate, that's why Ana behaved the way she did. She knows, and in my opinion, wanted to give Elena the hint that she remembered."
"How the hell did she take it?" Kate asks. "She didn't tell me that you'd finally confessed."
Christian doesn't answer her and I hear Elliot sigh. "Kate, my guess is that Ana hasn't told you because she doesn't remember telling you in the first place!" he roars.
Again, I jump.
"I don't want to sound like I don't give a shit about what Ana knows, but I'm still waiting for one of you to answer my question," Mia says. "For God's sake. How old were you? I'm not leaving this open-ended. I swear to God, Christian."
"Fifteen. I was mother fucking fifteen, Mia. Are you happy now?" he yells at his sister, who gasps.
Kate is silent.
Of course, she is. She knew.
"You were fifteen!" Mia isn't asking a question. "She's a damn pedophile. Elliot, you knew this and said nothing? You did nothing? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? Jesus Christ, Christian. Was she your first time?"
I've had it. I'm standing out here like an idiot while they're ripping each other to shreds. I open the door and quietly shut it behind me. All four heads turn as one. Christian is the only one whose face doesn't pale.
I put a finger in front of my lips. "Please hush," I whisper from behind it. "You need to lower it several thousand decibels."
Mia, in all her thigh high split beauty, is standing still and staring at me in shock.
Kate's composed herself and sits down in a tufted brown sofa. She's massaging her temples. Elliot, who's pulling at his blonde curls, reaches out and pulls Mia into his arms.
I walk over to Christian. Reaching up, I stroke his face and smile. "Hey."
"Hey," he replies.
"Everything's going to be fine, okay? Just calm down and we'll work through this." He nods, but doesn't answer.
I turn my attention to my best friend and Christian's siblings.
"I heard a lot, but not why this is being discussed now. In your parents' house. With a hell of a lot of people around the corner. What's going on?" I demand.
Elliot speaks over Mia's head. "Baby sis asked questions that her big bro over there refused to answer."
"Mia, how are you," I ask.
She moves out of Elliot's arms and sits on the sofa with Kate. "I'm extremely upset and disturbed that a pedophile's in my home, and apparently, no one is willing to throw her ass out," she answers sarcastically.
I look between Christian and Elliot. "Have either of you thought of one logical way to handle this situation?" I ask them.
Elliot scoffs. "Your husband knows what I want to do. He refuses, and I have to respect that," he begins. "However, I'm happy that he told you about this shit." Elliot looks like a lot of things right now but happy isn't one of them.
"Christian, are you afraid to tell Mom and Dad? How can they be pissed off at you? You were a kid," Mia says.
"Mia, you know what will happen. I'm not telling them," Christian states firmly.
Elliot exhales deeply and his face is red. He's angry and looks like he's about to blow. "Then what do you want everyone in this room to do? Not just tonight or tomorrow. I'm talking about in six months' time, or a year. Are we supposed to sit with a thumb up our ass and keep ignoring this shit?"
"I don't know. We've had this conversation a million times and the answer is always the same," Christian replies. He's taken his tie off and shoved it in his suit pocket. He looks so tired and sad.
"I refuse to allow this to continue," Mia blurts out. "I'm doubting that either of you respect our parents. If you did, then you would never have kept this a secret."
"Mia, that's the reason I refuse to tell them. I knew what I was doing to Mom and Dad every time I went to Elena. It has to stay a secret."
"It's not a secret any longer, Christian."
We all jump, and our heads snap toward the doorway.
Oh, no.
How long has Grace been standing there?
I'm powerless to speak or move. I don't think I can blink. I also can't look away.
Grace walks in and shuts the door behind her. Then she locks it. Her cheeks are bright red and her eyes are bloodshot. Tears have smeared her mascara.
How much did she hear? I thought I was alone in the hallway.
I hazard a glance at my husband. He's paled, and looks like he's facing a firing squad. Christian is as still as a dead body. I don't believe that he's taken a breath.
The only noise in the room is Mia crying.
With tears in my eyes, I take Christian's hand. "I won't leave you," I whisper. "I'm here."
Christian doesn't respond as Grace walks across the room. Her shoulders, covered in teal lace, are shaking. She slumps in a leather wing back chair and wipes the tears from her cheeks. Her eyes dart around the room, leaving a trail of guilt around all of us.
She looks confused. She looks betrayed. She looks devastated.
I lead Christian to the sofa that Kate is occupying. We sit. The grip he has on my hand is digging my wedding rings into my skin.
Grace's eyes land on me. Her words shock me. They shock all of us.
"Ana, I need to tell you that I didn't bring Elena Lincoln back around the family to hurt you or make you think that I don't care about your feelings. Please accept my apology," Grace softly says.
I have no response. I stay quiet like everyone else. Watching, and waiting for Grace's next move. Mia has finally stopped crying and is sitting down near Elliot.
Clearing my throat, I scramble for words. What she's said has thrown me. "I'm not sure why you're apologizing to me. You've done nothing wrong," I reply.
She nods her head. "Yes, I have, Ana, but I had to. I knew it would upset you. I was aware it would upset everyone in the family, for that matter, but it was necessary. I knew there was something off whenever you were in Elena's presence. The night of Christian's birthday party solidified the nagging feeling I had about the two of you. Rather, the three of you."
Christian's staring blankly in front of him. Kate's grabbed my other hand. I hold my breath as we wait to hear what Grace will say next.
"I considered every reason that made you react so out of character when Elena was around," she begins. "Let me say that while I was looking underneath every rock for that root of hostility you had for Elena, it occurred to me that the only thing the two of you remotely had in common was Christian." She takes a shuddering breath. "I had to uncover the reason, Ana. I knew it had to be about them. I just didn't imagine it would be this."
Grace finally looks at Christian, who's still staring into space.
Seconds of silence pass before she continues. They feel like years.
"She always knew things about Christian that I didn't. In fact, looking back, Elena seemed to go out of her way to fill me in on my son's personal life. She tended to appear like she was gloating whenever she would tell me about Christian's life. Little details that I wasn't privy to."
No one else has uttered a word while my husband stares ahead unblinking. I'm unclear as to where this heading. Jesus, did she already know?
"I knew that Carrick and Elliot didn't approve of your business relationship with Elena, Christian. Your father said she used us to get to you. I didn't want to believe that. I believe it now, though. God, how did I miss this?" Grace says.
She walks to us and kneels down in front of Christian. "Fifteen. My, God." He slumps forward, his elbows go on his knees, and he's looking down. She begins to softly stroke his hair. "My little boy. I allowed that woman in my life and she abused my little boy."
Christian raises his head and shakes it. "Please, don't say that, Mom. I knew what I was doing-"
"I won't be responsible for my actions if you defend her," Grace cuts him off. "She molested you, and I heard Mia say it went on for six years. Is that why you gave her the money to start her business? Did you feel like you owed her something?"
"I did owe her. She gave me the money to start GEH," he whispers.
Good God, this woman has had her claws in Christian for most of his life and he can't see that. She fucked him up so badly.
"Ana, did you know about this?" Grace asks me. "Were you aware before you lost your memory?"
"Yes, she knew it all. She despised Elena, and that's why she reacted the way that she did at my birthday party, as well as Dad's," Christian answers for me.
"She can't remember anything." Grace sounds like she's thinking out loud.
"No, I can't. Kate's told me, though," I answer.
"I heard. Kate was protecting you from finding out about this on your own. Christian should have told you. Why didn't you?" she asks Christian.
"I told Ana while we were away. I've told her everything," he replies.
"Katherine, please move so I can sit beside my son," Grace tells her.
Kate sits in the chair Grace vacated and I scoot down so my mother-in-law can be next to Christian.
"Elliot, how long have you known about your brother and Elena?" Grace asks. Her long gown rustles when moves to look at him.
"Mom, please. Don't drag Elliot into this," Christian pleads.
Elliot ignores his brother's outburst. "Since I was eighteen."
She places her head in her hands. Christian is rubbing her back. A moment or two slips by, and she sits up ramrod straight. "Did it occur to you that he was considered a minor in the state of Washington? That she was molesting him? What was the reason, Elliot? Did you think it was cool that an older woman was fucking your brother?"
Shit.
I've never heard Grace swear before. Never. Ever.
"No, Mom, I didn't, but I tried to get him to stop because they were making you look like a fool. I wanted to choke her every time that I saw her. I never thought it was right." Elliot looks so pained, and his eyes are watering up.
That bitch needs the life chocked out of her for what she's done to this family.
"Why didn't you come to me or your father, Elliot? We could have put that woman away. She's a pedophile. There's no telling how many boys she's done this to," Grace whispers.
Elliot looks at Christian. Neither say anything, but I know what's happening. Elliot is asking his brother's permission to be completely honest.
Well, I'm sure there isn't going to be mention of the BDSM.
"Because Christian asked me not to. At first, I bought into his claims of her keeping him out of trouble. I now know I was stupid, but I was a kid myself, and I didn't know she was hurting him—"
Oh, no.
Elliot stops, his eyes widen as Christian jumps off of the sofa and stands in front of his mother. His voice is hoarse.
"No, Elliot. Don't you dare!" Christian's booming voice vibrates off of the walls.
Elliot stands up, facing his brother. "I'm sorry. It just slipped out. I swear, it just slipped out," he tells him.
Mia looks confused. Her eyes are moving to her brothers and then her mother, who has paled considerably. I can sense her panic.
At this point, we're all standing.
"What do you mean Elena was hurting Christian?" Mia's question is directed at my brother-in-law, whose hands are fisted.
This is going to get ugly. Ugly. Oh, so very ugly.
Kate's come to my side, tears running down her face and starts to rub my back. She knows what's about to happen, too.
"El, what are you talking about? How did that old slut hurt my brother?" Mia demands. Her face is flushed and she's breathing heavily.
Elliot remains quiet, locked in a stare down with Christian, whose body is shaking. He's pale and looks like he's about to burst into tears.
Christian turns, faces his mother, and exhales slowly.
"What did your brother mean, Christian?" she asks. Her voice is strong and angry. "Tell me. Now."
I'm not sure if I'm about to watch an execution or Christian get his way out of this. My anxiety is through the full moon that's hanging from the sky. The tension between us all feels like a heavy wool blanket.
My husband's shoulders drop. Is he going to tell her the truth?
"Mom, please don't hate me when I'm finished telling you this. Please. I never wanted to hurt you. That's been my fear since I was fifteen," he whispers.
"You're my son, Christian. I could never hate you. I love you," she tells him.
He sits down and drops his head. He opens his mouth and in a low voice he tells us his story.
It isn't a bedtime story that would bring about sweet dreams. No, it's a story you'd tell around a campfire, deep in the night, to scare the hell out of people.
We are all exhausted after hearing how Elena Lincoln pounced on a very troubled adolescent and introduced him into BDSM. Our tears have dried up and we're silent. The only thing to be heard is the grandfather clock in the far corner of the room.
My mind is now an empty space. I can't say a word. I can't stop thinking. I'm shocked and disgusted. I'm disgusted by that horrible woman. I'm shocked that Grace and Carrick never picked up on anything between Christian and Elena.
As that clock rings out, Mia Trevelyan-Grey jumps to her feet shrieking, startling everyone. "Where is that bitch?" she seethes. "I'm going to kill her with my bare hands."
Before anyone can stop her, Mia has lifted her gown and sprinted out of the library. She's running towards the dining room. We're all calling for her to stop, but it's a lost cause. Mia seems to be out of her mind.
The closer we get to the dining room, the louder the voices of the party guests become.
My, God, surely, she isn't going to barge in there and berate Elena? She can't let the world know her brother fucked the bitch.
I have Grace by the elbow, helping her down the hall because she's shaking and once again, weeping. Mia, Elliot, Christian, and Kate look like they're running a race, with Mia in the lead.
As we sat in silence, now we run in silence. We can't very well allow Seattle's legal elite hear us yelling at each other over Elena Lincoln molesting Seattle's boy billionaire.
Please, please, please, let Elena have already left.
Please, God.
However, God must be busy, because he didn't listen to my desperate plea.
Elena Lincoln, the disgusting witch that molested my husband, and who had a six-year BDSM relationship with him, is sitting at the table, chatting away with some innocent woman who doesn't know she's sitting beside an animal that needs to be euthanized.
Unfortunately, it's a table across the room, meaning Mia is having to scramble through the tables and a throng of people to reach Elena. She isn't doing it quietly.
"You piece of trash! You are a bottom feeder and I want you out of my parent's home, right now," Mia yells.
The room falls silent, and Carrick stands. He looks at us like we're crazy.
"What's going on. Mia, what in the world is wrong?" he asks.
Everyone is staring at us.
The people who are sitting at the table with Elena scoot their chairs back, as we trail behind Mia, desperate to shut her mouth before she sticks her family in it.
She's hovering over Elena within seconds, her finger in Elena's face, while she shakes with fury. It's frightening.
Elena blinks rapidly, looking confused and unsure. Her eyes are darting around the room until Grace pulls herself from my hand, and stands in her way.
Oh, shit.
Mia's rage is palpable. "We know, you, sick bitch. We know everything. So, I highly suggest you get your old ass out of that chair and crawl back into the hole you came out of," she hisses, quite loudly.
Elena jumps, startled, and her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. Her confused expression is almost amusing. Almost.
"Mia, let's go. Stop this," Christian orders his sister. He grabs her upper arm and does his best to pull her back, but she's resisting – and doing a good job of it.
"Elena, get the fuck up and leave. Now," he orders.
On Elena's face, confusion has evaporated. Her expression hardens when she looks at Mia, and then at Christian.
I bristle.
I swear I watch her blue eyes cloud over as they bore a hole into him. He completely ignores her.
Carrick is standing beside us now, looking at each of us in turn. He frowns when he takes in his wife's appearance. Her makeup is ruined and mascara is smudged all over her cheeks.
The tension in the room is oppressive. It's so quiet that the only thing that I hear is Mia's heavy breathing. She's basically panting.
"Mia, come with me. You're upset. Come. You can tell me all about it," Carrick says ever so softly.
A man and woman at the table discretely excuse themselves and Mia stretches across the empty chairs and is staring Elena down. Elena has reverted to looking confused and hasn't said a word.
"Unless you want me to tell everyone around us what you did to someone that…I know, I would pick up your Chanel bag and get the hell out of my parent's home," continues Mia, who seems to become angrier by the second.
Elena's expression hardens, and still looking at my husband, she purses her lips. "Mia, dear, I don't know what you mean. I haven't—" she begins to say, but Mia interrupts her. Loudly.
She slams her hands on the table. "Yes, you have! And yes, you do know what I mean. Now get your ass out of my sight. Your secret is out! It's out!" she yells.
By now, everyone at the table has abandoned it, and the room is beginning to quietly buzz, and for a split second, I see that man, Linc, smirking at us. I look away when I hear Elena.
"Grace, what's going on here?" Elena asks, finally looking at my mother-in-law.
I really wish she wouldn't have asked Grace that question.
Grace, moving with the ease of a black panther, looms over Elena Lincoln, chest heaving. "I know what you did to my son, you whore," she says so softly that only we can hear her.
Elena seems unable to locate a word that could salvage her from being publicly outed. But, then, she looks at me, and I see the disdain in her eyes. They remind me of two icicles.
Grace's words cause her to look away from me. "Get out of my home, or I will kill you. Do you understand? If I ever lay eyes on you again, I will kill you," Grace exclaims loudly, causing me to jump.
Carrick pulls his wife to his chest. I hear her sobbing.
"Christian, can you explain—" Elena begins.
"No, you whore, he won't explain anything to you, because you already know what's going on. Get off your ass and get the fuck out, or I will kill you." Mia shouts, grabbing for Elena's arm, and pulling her up.
"Elliot, get your sister out of here, for God's sake," Carrick mutters, confused and angry.
Elliot doesn't listen.
Mia doesn't listen.
But the entire room is listening. In fact, they just heard Mia and Grace Grey threaten to kill Elena Lincoln.
Finally, Elena stands, grabbing her clutch and lifting her chin defiantly. She's got her disgusting eyes locked on Christian's face again.
My head begins to ache. It's that fucking dull ache on the left side of my head.
"Just get out, Elena. Leave," he tells her in a low grumble.
However, Mrs. Lincoln doesn't leave. What she does do, is turn towards me, running her eyes up and down my body – like she's checking me out.
I involuntarily shudder under her gaze.
The woman licks her lips – all blood red lipstick – and taps a finely manicured finger on her chin.
Her eyes meet mine. For some reason, she's trying to intimidate me.
For her, it's a shame that I'm not easily intimidated.
She suddenly looks at Christian, smirking. "I think Anastasia's dress would look better with a belt, Christian. What do you say?" she asks, her voice as dark as her clothes.
Christian looks like he's going to pass out. His expression, that once was angry, is now one of alarm. I don't know why. I know exactly what she's referring to.
Bitch, I already know. And I think you should be choked to death by a belt.
"Shut up, Elena," Christian replies. His jaws are clenched so hard that I can't believe he can speak. "Respect my mother's request and leave our home." Each word venomous.
She looks at me like I'm a piece of rotten meat. I want nothing more than to slap her face. "Dear, I recommend that you wear a belt with your dress. I'm sure Christian has one that's suitable for you, and I've always told him you do look better when he uses—"
"Elena," Christian breaks in with a snarl.
He's scowling at her, and she's smiling at me.
In a kind of wicked step-mother sort of way.
"What's the matter, Christian? You do want Ana to remember everything, don't you? I'm just trying to help. Bring her to the Esclava at Bravern Center. I remember you brought her there, and it was quite the experience for her."
And then… And then that's when the dull ache in my head turns into a shrieking pain.
I don't know if it's the words, or the person saying them, but it's now noise, akin to static on an AM radio station.
Suddenly, my heart is pounding, sweat threatens my forehead, and I feel bile from disgust rising up my throat.
The words.
Those words.
Her words.
They may have fallen off of lips, but they've opened up a portal that leads straight to my mind.
I gasp, because I clearly see everything.
I hear everything.
My stomach knots.
"I know who you are and what you did to Christian, and you should be in prison, not freely walking around children."
I was wearing a white eyelet dress, and it made me fade into the pristine white surroundings. My shoulders were shaking with anger as I pointed a finger at Elena Lincoln's face. She stood there, dressed in all black, sneering at me, and giving Christian a deadly glare. He was giving me an equally deadly glare.
That wasn't my Christian. That was Dominant Christian. Shit. I was his submissive. I don't have to question if I'm remembering something that happened. . . I know it happened. This is the day my idiot husband took me to Esclava and I thought I heard Elena tell him to punish me.
My, God. I remember. I can see and hear it all so clearly.
"This one needs a firm hand, Christian. Show her who you really are. If you don't break her down, then you can't build her back into what you want her to be."
The more my mind's eye can see, the stronger the pain in my head becomes, but this time, I'm not blacking out. The noise, whether it's the buzzing in my ears, or from those around me, is steadily rising and heightening my anxiety.
It doesn't matter only thing that matters is what I'm remembering.
"I'd use a belt. Your first punishment was a cane, wasn't it? And see how well I taught you?"
This fucking bitch. A god damned pedophile.
I rush, and slap Elena, hard across the face. Her head snaps to the right. The sound resonates off the walls. She clutches her cheek in astonishment and wobbles on her high heels. But I'm not finished with this woman. Grabbing hold of her arm, I jerk her towards me, my fingernails catch the fabric of her gown. Our audience is as quiet as a graveyard. I don't care.
Pulling skin and fabric, I lick my dry lips and squeeze the flesh into my grasp tighter. All eyes are on me. I hear fabric tearing. I don't bother to lean in and say anything quietly. I want them all to hear me when I give her my promise. My vow. What I should have done long ago, but didn't. Why was I so weak?
"I'm taking this slow, Elena. Back off."
My, God. I hear him.
Over the pounding and sharp pain, I smile. A demented and furious grin that must look ghastly. There aren't any shuddering breaths. No trembling hands. Fear and trepidation are nowhere to be found.
It's all hatred. I have just remembered that day, and all I feel is black hatred.
"Ana," someone behind me pleads. I don't know who. I don't care to know. I shrug them off. As loudly as church bells ringing on Sunday morning, my voice is strong, my words are full of conviction. "No, don't 'Ana' me," I say. "I have something I'd like to say. You see, I remember."
I look to my right. Elliot is holding his sister by the arm. Mia is trying to twist her way out of his grip. Their mother is gone, her husband with her. But each party guest is looking on, gaping.
"What do you remember, Anastasia?" Christian asks in a rush. His voice has broken through the static, and our eyes meet – he's panicking. I feel his warm breath on my ear. He realizes what I've seen.
She put a wedge between us and we fell apart for a while. Elena is probably standing here hoping she's finally broken us.
Cunt.
"What I've remembered doesn't matter, right now. What matters is this piece of trash standing in your mother's dining room," I reply.
"Elena, leave. It's not a request. Leave, and don't come back," Elliot growls.
"Oh, no, Elliot. Mrs. Lincoln needs to hear something from me." I square my shoulders, long past the point of giving a fuck. "You heard Mia and Grace. If they don't kill you, I will. I know what you told Christian, but don't think it will tear us apart. We're married now, I'm carrying his child, and that means that I'll do whatever has to be done to protect my family. To protect Christian from the likes of you. To protect everyone that I love from the likes of a whore like you."
Everyone gasps.
I just told this bitch I was more than willing to kill her. Reactions from those in the room don't mean shit to me. My attention is elsewhere. "Shall I say it slower, Elena? Enunciate each word? I want to savor every word. I. Will. Kill. You. Your life means nothing to me. Everything is over for you now, but you already realize that, don't you?"
I use my free hand to motion to the quietly enthralled crowd, lapping up this catastrophe.
Christian's at my side and prying my hand away from Elena's shoulder. "Let go, baby," he whispers. "Stop this," he murmurs.
Once he frees her, he turns and is practically dragging me out of the dining room.
"The living room," Elliot barks from behind us.
I look back over my shoulder. Elliot's holding onto an equally enraged Mia. Before I can say anything, we pass the staircase and are met by Carrick, who's standing on the threshold of the living room. He shuts the double doors behind us.
Grace is sitting on the arm of the sofa with a glass of cognac in her hand. She looks calm. Too calm.
Elliot all but shoves his sister on the sofa beside their mother and runs his hands does hands down his face.
I've somehow ended up in a chair across the room. Carrick is now facing us. Both hands fisted in my pockets. Fury is radiating off of him. He sets his gaze on his daughter whose face is thunder. "Mia, I'll tell you what I told your mother, and it's something everyone should already know. You can't threaten a person's life." He's talking as softly as he can.
Carrick continues. "And you never threaten someone with a room full of witnesses, for God's sake! You were raised by a lawyer. Hell, even if you weren't, you know better than to tell a person that you're going to kill them."
"Did you hear that, Ana?" Christian asks me, causing Carrick's neck to swivel to me.
"She didn't?" Carrick sounds incredulous and angry.
"Oh, she did, all right, Dad. Ana here made physical contact, as well," Elliot answers, then groans.
"I tried to stop her-" Christian begins.
They're talking about me like I'm not here. I interject. "Pardon me, but the 'she' and 'her' is in the room. And last time I checked, I'm an adult."
"Then you should behave like one," Carrick snaps.
"I do. I believe tonight has called for..." I stop talking when I see Kate bound into the room.
"Kate, who's dealing with the pack of salivating wolves who've witnessed this fuck up?" Carrick asks.
"Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan are. Both have taken the reins and are currently herding the wolves out of the house." Kate says this all too quickly, and I don't have to look at her to know she's staring at me, dying to ask me about my memory.
My head may be throbbing, but at least it hasn't brought me to my knees. Or knocked me out cold.
Christian's staring at me like he's dangling off a cliff and I have the power to send him over it. He wants to know what and how much I remembered. "What did you recall? He asks.
"Ana? You remembered something?" Kate asks from across the room.
I shake my head. "No here," I mouth at both of them.
Kate looks upset. Christian looks annoyed.
A sharper pain hits the side of my head and I have to steady myself on the arm of the sofa. I'm dazed, although, this time no color clouds my vision. I shake my head and the movement makes the pain worse. I drop my head in my hands. Voices around me are calling my name. Strong arms pull me into a hard body.
I'm looking directly at the green and cream-colored sofa in front of me, but I'm also elsewhere. I'm stuck between two places. I see both crystal clear.
Christian has my upper arm in a harsh grip as he leads me to a red leather bench. He's holding a black belt in his other hand. The room is painted red. A large bed covered in a red sheet sits center in the room.
I suck in a large gulp of air. Oh, no. I don't want to remember this. No.
"Bend over. I'm going to hit you six times, and you're going to count out loud. Do you understand, Anastasia?"
"Yes, sir."
"You want to know how bad it is? I'm going to show you." His voice is cold and menacing. His fingers dig deep into my lower back.
No. No. No. I don't want to see this. Pain shoots through my brain and my knees buckle. I'd fall if strong arms weren't holding me up.
The first blow causes my body to jerk forward.
"Count, Anastasia!" His voice an artic order.
Tears are already running down my face.
"Count, Anastasia!"
He's breathless. He's panting.
He's getting off on hurting me.
The red room has disappeared. Tears are running copiously, but I'm back in the Grey's living room.
The pain has lessened and I know the hard body, that's engulfing me is Christian. He's shaking. He's shaking because he's crying. He knows what I've seen somehow.
I focus on the loud voices that surround me. They sound angry and anguished and are demanding that Christian gives them answers. I try harder to make out what's being said.
"You beat Ana with a belt?" Carrick thunders.
I screw my eyes shut. I realize that not only did I watch him take the belt to me, I described it out loud.
They heard what Christian did to me.
They heard it all.