Freed

by James, E L

  “It’s done?”

  “Signed and sealed.”

  “Great. Thanks for orchestrating. Keys?”

  “They are being biked over.”

  “I’ll give them to my brother. He’s going to oversee the renovation.”

  Her eyes widen. “Renovating, too? You have a great deal on your plate, Christian. I think it’s about time you took a vacation.”

  “You know, I’m ready and looking forward to it.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I took your advice. Europe.”

  She brightens. “Gwen and I are really looking forward to Saturday.”

  “I’ll be glad when it’s over.” I give her a tight smile.

  “Christian!” She looks taken aback. “You’ve got to enjoy the day!”

  “I want Ana to enjoy the day.”

  Ros’s stance softens immediately. “You have got it bad.”

  I laugh, because she’s never made such a personal comment before. “Guilty as charged.”

  She grins, her eyes warming. It’s a good look on her.

  “I’ll certainly enjoy my honeymoon knowing that you’re heading this place up and keeping the GEH wheels turning.”

  Her grin broadens. “Don’t look so anxious. You’ll be in Europe, not on Mars. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  “Thanks, Ros.”

  “Now, excuse me while I get on with today’s business.” I step aside and she struts past me. And in that moment, I’m so grateful she’s on my team.

  “Christian, you’re like a caged lion. What is it?” Flynn asks. He’s sitting in his chair, regarding me with his usual professional detachment, while I pace up and down his office, treading a path into the thick pile of his rug. I come to a halt at his question and glance through the window to see Taylor waiting by the car. He’s watching the street from behind mirrored aviators.

  “Nerves?” I hazard a guess, and returning to the couch, I slump into it.

  “That’s a reasonable reaction to the fact that you’re getting married in a couple of days.”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course it is. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous. You are publicly going to declare how much Anastasia means to you. It’s all getting real.”

  Yes. It is.

  “But it’s just taken so long to get to this point and at the last minute we forgot the rings.” I throw my hands up in frustration. “What does that say about us?”

  “That you’re both busy people?” he offers, his tone mollifying.

  But his observation doesn’t appease me. “Everyone keeps telling me to enjoy myself.” My brows knit together.

  Flynn looks pensive but remains mute, waiting for me to elucidate.

  “I just want it done!”

  “Do you? Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  What! I glare at him as if he’s sprouted an additional head. “The wedding? Of course I do!”

  “I thought so.”

  “Then why ask me if I have doubts?” I snap.

  “Christian, I’m trying to unpack the source of your restlessness.”

  “I just want it over.” I fire the words at him, exasperated. But Flynn says nothing and continues to observe me with a calm and measured expression while I wait for him to offer up some insight. When he doesn’t, I know he’s testing me.

  Damn.

  “It’s taken so long. I’m not a patient man,” I mutter.

  “It’s been a few weeks, it’s not that long.”

  I huff out a breath as I struggle to unscramble my feelings. “I hope Ana doesn’t change her mind.”

  “I think at this stage Ana is very unlikely to change her mind. Why would she? She loves you.” He holds my gaze.

  I stare at him, silent, unable to articulate what I want to say. It’s frustrating.

  “You just want to be married?” Flynn prompts.

  “Yes! Then she’s mine. And I can protect her. Properly.”

  “Ah.” Flynn nods and lets out a soft sigh. “This isn’t just nerves, Christian. Tell me.”

  Showtime, Grey.

  I swallow, and from the depths of my soul, I confess my darkest fear. “Life would be unbearable without her.” My words are almost inaudible. “I’m having awful, morbid thoughts.”

  He nods and taps his lip, and I realize this is what he’s been waiting for me to say. “Do you want to talk about them?” he asks.

  “No.” If I do, I’ll make them real.

  “Why not?”

  I shake my head feeling exposed—vulnerable—like I’m naked on top of a treeless hill, the wind howling around me.

  John rubs his chin. “Christian, your fears are totally understandable. But they come from the place of an abused, neglected child who was abandoned by the death of his mother.”

  Closing my eyes, I see the crack whore dead on the floor.

  Except she’s Ana.

  Fuck.

  “You’re an adult now. A pretty successful one at that,” John continues. “None of us have any guarantees in life, but it’s extremely unlikely that anything’s going to happen to Ana, given everything you’ve put in place.”

  I open my eyes to meet Flynn’s, and he still wants more.

  “I fear for her more than I fear for myself,” I whisper.

  His expression softens. “I understand, Christian. You love her. But what you have to do is to get that fear into perspective and under control. It’s irrational. And fundamentally you know this.”

  I let out a long breath. “I know. I know.”

  His forehead creases with a brief frown as he glances at his lap. “I just want to sound a word of caution.” He looks up to make sure he has my full attention. “I don’t want you to sabotage your happiness, Christian.”

  “What?”

  “I know you feel you don’t deserve it and it’s a relatively new concept for you, but you should nurture and treasure it.”

  Where the hell is he going with this?

  “I do,” I try to reassure him. “But it makes me anxious.”

  “I know. Just be mindful.”

  I nod.

  “You have the tools to overcome your anxiety. Use them. Free your rational mind.”

  Okay. Okay.

  I’m tiring of this lecture that I’ve heard before. “Let’s move on.”

  His lips thin. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He changes the subject. “Now, speaking of sabotage, do you have any news on the saboteur?”

  “No!” The word is an expletive. I wish I had an answer. “I’m beginning to wonder if we overreacted.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  My mouth twists into a half smile. “Ana said that.”

  “She knows you well.”

  “She does. Better than anyone. Apart from you.”

  “You flatter me, Christian. I’m sure she knows you better than I do. We choose what we show to different people. It’s part of what makes us human. I think she’s seen the worst and the best of you.”

  That’s true. “She brings out the worst and the best in me.”

  “If you put your mind to it, you can concentrate on the best. Don’t dwell on the negative and be mindful. Use all that you’ve learned here,” he asserts.

  “I can try.”

  “Don’t try. Do. You’re more than capable, Christian.” He crosses his legs and continues. “How are you getting on with your parents?”

  “Much better.” And I fill him in on my latest interaction with Grace.

  “That all sounds great. And your dad?”

  “Nothing to report since his surprise apology.”

  “Good.” He pauses. “Did you get the e-mail I forwarded from Leila?”

 
“Yes. I don’t want to see her.”

  “That’s probably wise. I’ll let her know.”

  “Thank you.”

  He smiles. “You know, you may not be looking forward to your wedding, but my wife is beyond excited.”

  I laugh.

  “We’re bringing the boys. I hope you’ve nailed everything down.”

  “I think Ros, my chief operating officer, is bringing her kids, too.”

  “Have you discussed children with Ana?”

  “Only generally. We’ve got years to think about that. We’re both young. In fact, I forget how young Ana is sometimes.”

  Yes, and I’m the sulky teen.

  “You’re both young.” He glances at the clock on the wall behind me. “I think we’re done, unless there’s anything else you want to talk about? I won’t see you in a professional capacity for a while.”

  “I’m good. Thanks for listening.”

  “It’s my job. Remember. Don’t dwell on the negative. Focus on the positive.”

  I nod and stand.

  “And a bit of advice, on a personal level,” John says. “Happy wife. Happy life. Trust me on this one.”

  I chuckle and he grins. “It’s good to see you laugh, Christian.”

  Ana and I stare at each other. We lie in my bed…our bed, nose-to-nose, each sated, neither of us sleepy. “That was nice,” Ana whispers.

  I narrow my eyes. “There’s that word again.”

  She grins, and I run my fingers down her cheek. Her smile fades.

  “What is it?” I ask, and she shifts her gaze downward, away from me. “Ana?”

  Her eyes find mine, and fix me with an intense stare. “We’ve not been too hasty, have we?” she asks in a rush, her voice breathy and quiet.

  All my senses are suddenly on high alert.

  Where the fuck is she going with this?

  “No! Why do you think so?”

  “It’s just that I’m so happy right now, I don’t know if I could be any happier. I don’t want to change anything.”

  I close my eyes, savoring my relief. She lays her hand on my cheek. “Are you happy?” she asks.

  Opening my eyes, I regard her with all the sincerity I can muster from every fiber of my being. “Of course I’m happy. You have no idea how you’ve changed my life for the better. But I’ll be happier once we’re married.”

  “You’re anxious. I can see it in your eyes.” Her fingers graze my chin.

  “I’m anxious to make you mine.”

  “I am yours,” she murmurs, and her words force a smile.

  Mine.

  I continue, “And we have to endure two days of enforced socializing.”

  She giggles. “Yes. There’s that.”

  “I can’t wait to take you away.”

  “I can’t wait, either. Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I like surprises.”

  “I like you.”

  “I like you, too, Christian.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose.

  “Are you sleepy?” I ask.

  “No.”

  Good. “Me neither. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Saturday, July 30, 2011

  Elliot takes a swig of Macallan. It’s just after midnight, and he’s sprawled out on my couch, feet up, taking up about as much space as he can. The man has no sense of decorum.

  “Man, this is good scotch.”

  “Should be.” It’s expensive.

  “What did she get you?” he asks. From my pocket I remove the turquoise Tiffany box that contains my wedding gift from Ana. Opening it up for the second time, I study the platinum cuff links, engraved with an elaborate C entwined with an A. She’s never bought me anything like this, and I love them. I’ll wear them tomorrow when we marry.

  I hand them to Elliot and he nods in approval as he examines them. “Nice gift.”

  “Yes. They’re perfect.”

  “It’s late, bro.” He yawns. “We should turn in. In case it’s slipped your mind, you’re getting hitched in the morning.”

  “We should.” My sip of Armagnac warms the back of my mouth before sliding smoothly down my throat. “It’ll be weird sleeping on my own.”

  Now, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d utter.

  “Tonight was cool,” he says, ignoring me. “I dig Ana’s parents. Bob doesn’t say much. Come to think of it, Ana’s dad doesn’t, either.”

  “They’re both taciturn.” I arch an eyebrow. “Carla has a type.”

  Elliot laughs. “It’s always the quiet ones. Like you, hotshot.” He raises his glass and grins at me.

  Fuck off, Elliot. I scowl at him. “Like me? I have no idea what you’re alluding to, and I don’t even want to think about it. They’re my in-laws, for fuck’s sake.”

  “I don’t know. Ana’s mom’s hot. I could get into older women.”

  I’m not going there with Elliot!

  “Dude! What about Kavanagh?”

  He gives me a sheepish grin, and I think he’s kidding. “Bet you’re glad all the parentals hit it off.” He steers us to safer ground. “And Ray is a Mariners fan, so he can’t be all bad, but the jury is out on the Sounders. I’m not a fan of soccer.”

  I nod. It’s a relief: even Raymond Steele loosened up under Grace’s warm and tireless attention. And there’s no animosity between him and Ana’s mother, so that’s good news. Ray has retired for the night. It’s ironic that he’s sleeping in the bedroom I had hoped would be Ana’s, if she’d agreed to be my submissive.

  Perhaps it’s best if I keep that information to myself.

  “And your Mrs. Jones did you proud,” Elliot continues.

  “She did. Gail is a great cook. I think she likes to stretch her culinary legs on occasion.”

  Elliot downs his drink and smacks his lips together in appreciation.

  Uncouth, bro, uncouth.

  “That’s damn fine whisky, hotshot. I’m going to turn in. You?”

  “I have some business to attend to.”

  Elliot looks at his watch. “Now? It’s late.”

  “I need to deal with an e-mail that came in before dinner. It won’t take long.” I’m not sure I can sleep, anyway.

  “It’s your funeral…well, wedding.” He grins and bounds off the couch with his usual spontaneous energy. “Good night. Try and sleep, K?” He punches me on the arm and takes his leave.

  “Good night,” I call after him. “Don’t forget the rings!”

  He responds with the finger. In spite of myself, he makes me chuckle. Rising, I slip the Tiffany box back in my pocket.

  In my study, I open the e-mail that has been preoccupying me since I received it earlier this evening. It’s from Welch, and it contains the report from the NTSB on Charlie Tango’s accident.

  From: Welch, H. C.

  Subject: NTSB Report

  Date: July 29 2011 18:57

  To: Christian Grey

  Cc: J B Taylor

  Mr. Grey

  Attached is the detailed report from the National Transportation Safety Board. They have been more than thorough and confirm sabotage. The fuel lines were cut, allowing aviation kerosene to leak into the engines.

  The report has been forwarded to the FBI and will be used to continue the criminal investigation. Fortunately, the NTSB has kept them updated and the FBI dusted for prints last week as part of their investigation. They are in the process of eliminating the engineers and ground staff from their inquiries, but at present they’re no nearer to finding a suspect.

  Tomorrow I’d like to move the Gulfstream to Sea-Tac, so you’ll depart from there and not Boeing Field. I’ll arrange for you to be dropped off airside.

  I’ve added four additional security officers to your weddi
ng detail. Résumés are attached. Taylor has approved them. Two of them have been dispatched to the wedding venue to keep watch overnight.

  Apologies for this arriving on the eve of your nuptials.

  Leave this with us. And try to enjoy your big day.

  Welch

  Fuck. Our instincts were right.

  But who wants to kill me? Who?

  I type a quick response to Welch.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: NTSB Report

  Date: July 30 2011 12:23

  To: Welch, H. C.

  Cc: J B Taylor

  Agreed. And thanks.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  I toss back the remains of my Armagnac and decide to read the full report in bed. I’m on my own because Ana left with my parents to stay at their place tonight.

  To hell with these stupid traditions.

  She should be here. With me. I miss her.

  At least Sawyer went with her. He’ll watch over her.

  As I gather up the pages of the NTSB report from my printer, my mood grows bleaker. I am done with this shit.

  The report is extensive and rather dull, but in spite of my drooping eyelids, I manage to finish it. The next steps are to hand Charlie Tango over to the FBI, and once they’ve finished with her, they’ll return her to Eurocopter for a full assessment. I’m hopeful she can be repaired and GEH won’t have to deal with any insurance adjusters.

  I switch off my side light and stare up at the ceiling.

  Why is this happening the night before my wedding?

  I’m shrouded in darkness, and conscious of an empty feeling creeping into my chest. I’m now able to recognize it as loneliness; my heart is missing a piece, as Ana is not beside me. Though, strictly speaking, I’m not alone. My future father-in-law is probably asleep above me, Elliot is in the spare bedroom next door, and the staff quarters are almost at capacity. But Anastasia Steele is conspicuous by her absence. I wish she were here; I’d wrap her in my arms and lose myself in her. I’m tempted to text her, but it might wake her, and she needs her sleep. Fuck it. Without her, I’m lost. And someone out there wants me dead, and we don’t know who.

  Damn. Push it from your mind, Grey.

  I close my eyes.

  Breathe, Grey. Breathe.