Freed

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Freed Page 57

by James, E L


  “He was too tired to come back. He was in a car accident this morning.”

  I think that’s José’s idea of a joke as he forces a grin.

  “And his painkillers have kicked in,” he continues. “He was out for the count. I had to fight to get in to see Ray, since I’m not next of kin.”

  “And?” Ana’s voice cracks with anxiety.

  “He’s good, Ana. Same, but all good.”

  She nods, relieved, I think.

  “See you tomorrow, birthday girl.”

  Hell. Don’t blow the surprise!

  “Sure. We’ll be here,” Ana responds.

  José glances at me, then pulls her into a brief hug, closing his eyes as he holds her. “Mañana,” he whispers.

  Dude. Are you still holding a torch for my wife?

  He releases her, and we wish him good night, watching him walk down the corridor toward the elevators.

  I sigh. “He’s still nuts about you.”

  “No, he’s not. And even if he is…” She shrugs. She doesn’t care. “Well done,” she says.

  What?

  “For not frothing at the mouth,” she clarifies, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

  Even now, she’s making fun of me. “I’ve never frothed!” I try to sound offended, but her lips twitch in a slight smile, which was my intention. “Let’s see your dad. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Surprise?”

  “Come.” I take her hand.

  My mother is standing at the end of Ray’s bed, her head bowed, as she listens to Dr. Crowe and a woman dressed in scrubs. Grace perks up when she sees us.

  “Christian.” She kisses my cheek, then hugs my wife. “Ana. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. It’s my father I’m worried about.”

  “He’s in good hands. Dr. Sluder is an expert in her field. We trained together at Yale.”

  “Mrs. Grey.” Dr. Sluder shakes Ana’s hand. She has a soft southern accent, her words sounding like a lullaby. “As the lead physician for your father, I’m pleased to tell you that all is on track. His vital signs are stable and strong. We have every faith that he’ll make a complete recovery. The brain swelling has stopped and shows signs of decreasing. This is very encouraging after such a short time.”

  “That’s good news,” Ana says, a little color returning to her cheeks.

  “It is, Mrs. Grey. We’re taking real good care of him. Great to see you again, Grace.”

  “Likewise, Lorraina.”

  “Dr. Crowe, let’s leave these good people to visit with Mr. Steele.” Crowe follows Dr. Sluder out of the ward.

  Ana looks down at Ray, who is still sleeping peacefully. Grace takes her hand. “Ana, sweetheart, sit with him. Talk to him. It’s all good. I’ll visit with Christian in the waiting room.”

  “How’s she doing?” Grace asks.

  “It’s hard to tell. She’s bearing up, but I know she’s extremely anxious. She’s normally so strong.”

  “It must be a shock to her, darling. Thank heavens you’re here with her.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mom. What you said was really reassuring, and I’m sure it made a huge difference to Ana.”

  Grace smiles at me. “You love her so.”

  “I do.”

  “What will you do for her birthday tomorrow?”

  “I’m undecided, but I thought we might go ahead and have a low-key celebration here.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. I’ll stay in Portland tonight. It’s not often I get some time to myself.”

  “Andrea has booked a room for you and dad at The Heathman.”

  She smiles. “Christian, you’re so capable. You think of everything.”

  Her words spread like warm summer sunshine through my body.

  I strip out of my white T-shirt, and Ana grabs it and slips it over her head before climbing into bed.

  “You seem brighter.” I don my pajamas, pleased that Ana wants to wear my T-shirt.

  “Yes. I think talking to Dr. Sluder and your mom made a big difference. Did you ask Grace to come here?”

  Sliding into bed, I pull her into my arms, her back to my front; it’s the best position to spoon with my girl. “No. She wanted to come and check on your dad herself.”

  “How did she know?”

  “I called her this morning.”

  Ana sighs.

  “Baby, you’re exhausted. You should sleep.”

  “Hmm,” she mumbles, then turns her head to look at me, frowning.

  What?

  She turns over and curls herself around me, her warmth permeating my skin as I stroke her hair. Whatever she was thinking about, it seems to have gone.

  “Promise me something,” I ask.

  “Hmm?”

  “Promise me you’ll eat something tomorrow. I can just about tolerate you wearing another man’s jacket without frothing at the mouth, but, Ana, you must eat. Please.”

  “Hmm,” she grunts in agreement and I kiss her hair. “Thank you for being here,” she mumbles, and kisses my chest.

  “Where else would I be? I want to be wherever you are, Ana.”

  Always.

  You are my wife. My family now.

  And family comes first.

  I stare up at the ceiling, remembering the first time we slept together in this room.

  So long ago. And yet, not so long ago.

  It was a revelation.

  Sleeping with someone.

  Sleeping with her.

  “Being here makes me think of how far we’ve come. And the night I first slept with you.” I whisper, “What a night that was. I watched you for hours. You were just…yar.”

  I sense Ana’s tired smile against my chest.

  Oh, baby.

  “Sleep,” I murmur, and it’s not a request.

  Saturday, September 10, 2011

  Grandpa Theodore hands me an apple. It’s bright red. And tastes sweet; of home and long rich summers when the days went on forever. There’s a light breeze on my face. It’s cooling in the sunshine. We stand eye to eye in the orchard. His face sun-worn and weather-beaten, the etched lines in his skin telling a thousand stories. He reaches up, and a tremor runs through his hand. He’s not as steady as he once was…Grandpa! He grasps my shoulder, his eyes hooded but still shining with wisdom and love… For me. I see it now. Remember how we made the sweet apples when you were a boy? I grin. They’re still sweet. The trees are still giving. He smiles, his skin crinkling around his eyes. Boy, you were an odd one. Wouldn’t talk. Awful shy. Now look at you. Master of your own universe. I’m proud of you, son. You done good. The warmth of his words matches the warmth of the sun. Behind him, Mom, Dad, Elliot, Mia, and Ana are walking through the long, lush grass to join us with a blanket and a picnic basket. Ana laughs at something Mia says. She tips her head back, her hair free and catching the golden light. My mom joins in. Laughing, too. It’s all about family, boy. Always. Family first. Ana turns and beams at me. The sunshine of her smile lighting me from within. My light. My love. My family. Ana.

  I wake, but before I open my eyes, I savor my contentment. All is right in the world, everything is as it should be, and I know I’m enjoying the remnants of a now-forgotten dream.

  I open my eyes.

  Where am I?

  The Heathman.

  Shit—Ray.

  Grim reality intrudes, but I turn my head and am comforted to see Ana curled up beside me, still slumbering. From the light filtering through the curtains I know it’s early. I lie still for a moment, making a mental list of all that I need to do today.

  It’s her birthday.

  And Ray is lying injured in the hospital.

  It will be a delicate balancing act, to celebrate and commiserate all at once with her.

&nb
sp; I slip out of bed carefully.

  Don’t wake the wife!

  When I’m showered and dressed, I move quietly into the living room and let Ana sleep. I have to make a decision on whether to proceed with Ana’s birthday dinner, so my first task of the day is to call the ICU. I speak to one of Ray’s nurses, who reports that he’s spent a comfortable night and that his vitals are good. She then hands me over to the attending physician, who explains that all is as it should be and we should remain optimistic. At this encouraging news, and Dr. Sluder’s report yesterday, I decide to go ahead with the dinner.

  In the meantime, I need her gifts—both of which are in Taylor’s hands. I check my watch—7:35 a.m.—and text Taylor, who’s staying somewhere in the hotel.

  Good morning.

  Do you have Ana’s present?

  TAYLOR

  Yes, sir.

  Shall I bring the box up?

  Please. She’s still asleep!

  A few moments later there’s a gentle tap on the door, and Taylor is his usual smart-suited self on the other side. “Hello,” I whisper, mindful of sleeping beauty. I prop the door open with my foot and join Taylor in the corridor.

  “Good morning,” he says, whispering, too. “Here.” He places a beautifully wrapped package, all pale pink paper and satin ribbons, in my palm.

  “Nice wrapping. Your handiwork?” I raise a brow, and Taylor flushes.

  “For Mrs. Grey,” he mutters, and I know this is reason enough. “Here’s the card that came with the box.”

  “Thanks. I’m taking a gamble and going ahead with the small dinner party for Ana. We’ll need to coordinate the arrival of our guests today.”

  “Andrea has been keeping me up-to-date, and Sawyer is here. Between the two of us I think we’ve got this,” he says.

  “And we’ll have the new car, so Ana and I won’t need ferrying around.”

  “I took the liberty of bringing both keys.” He holds up the R8 key. “The spare is with the valet.”

  “Smart thinking.” I slip the key into my pocket. “I think we’ll be at least an hour. I’ll text you when we’re ready to leave so you can bring the Audi around to the front.”

  “I may not get a signal in the garage. I’ll liaise with the concierge and he can call me at the valet station.”

  “Okay. I’ll give him a sign when we’re in the foyer. How was she?”

  “The R8?”

  I nod, and his broad grin tells me all I need to know.

  “Great.” I grin back. “I’ll see you later.”

  He turns on his heel and I smile at his departing figure. Have I ever had a whispered conversation in a hotel corridor before? With Taylor? Ex-Marine? I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the two of us, and step back inside the suite.

  When I check on Ana, she’s still out for the count. I’m not surprised; she must be shattered from yesterday. I have time to e-mail Andrea.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Ana’s Birthday Dinner

  Date: September 10 2011 07:45

  To: Andrea Parker

  Good morning, Andrea.

  I want to go ahead with the surprise dinner for Ana.

  Please confirm with the hotel and organize a cake (chocolate!).

  Keep me informed about the travel arrangements for everyone.

  Sawyer and Taylor are here so will be able to do airport pickups.

  Coordinate with them.

  Thanks.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  What else do I need to do?

  Sitting down at the desk with Ana’s gift in my hand, I stare at the blank card. Fortunately, I know exactly what I want to say.

  For all our firsts on your first birthday

  as my beloved wife.

  I love you.

  C x

  I slide the card into its envelope and turn to my laptop. Ana will want something a little dressier for dinner, and bearing in mind what she said yesterday, I’d rather pick a dress for her myself than send Taylor. I check out the Nordstrom website and discover that the local store has a “buy and pick up” service. And it’s two blocks from The Heathman.

  Perfect.

  I start browsing.

  Twenty minutes later I’ve purchased everything Ana will need; I hope she likes my choices. I text Taylor to let him know, and he texts me back that he’ll send Luke to Nordstrom when we’re out visiting Ray.

  Time to wake Ana.

  She stirs as I sit down on the edge of the bed, and opens her eyes, blinking in the morning light. For a moment she looks relaxed and well rested, but abruptly her expression changes. “Shit! Daddy!” she exclaims in alarm.

  “Hey.” I stroke her cheek, so that she looks directly up at me. “I called the ICU this morning. Ray had a good night. It’s all good.” She thanks me as she sits up, looking relieved. Leaning in, I kiss her forehead and, closing my eyes, inhale her scent.

  Sleep and Ana.

  Delectable.

  “Good morning, Ana.” I kiss her temple.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi. I want to wish you happy birthday. Is that okay?”

  Her smile is uncertain, but she caresses my cheek, her eyes bright with sincerity. “Yes, of course. Thank you. For everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything,” she says with conviction.

  Why is she thanking me? It’s bewildering. But I’m anxious to give her my gift, so I ignore the feeling. “Here.”

  Ana’s eyes dart to mine, shining with excitement as she takes the package and opens the card. Her expression softens as she reads it. “I love you, too.”

  I grin. “Open it.”

  Returning my smile, she unravels the ribbon and gently removes the wrapping paper, revealing the Cartier leather box. Her eyes widen when she opens it to find a white-gold bracelet with charms that represent our firsts we’ve experienced together: a helicopter, a catamaran, a glider, a London black cab, the Eiffel Tower, a bed. Her forehead creases as she examines the sugar cone, and she glances up at me with a bemused expression.

  “Vanilla?” I offer with a sheepish shrug.

  She laughs. “Christian, this is beautiful. Thank you. It’s yar.” Her fingers fondle the small heart on the bracelet. It’s a locket: I thought it appropriate, as I’ve never given anyone my heart before. Ana’s been the one to unlock it, walk right in, and make herself at home there.

  Sappy, Grey. “You can put a picture or whatever in that.”

  “A picture of you.” She peers at me through her lashes. “Always in my heart.”

  She makes me feel ten feet tall.

  Her fingertips brush over the C and A letter charms that signify the two of us, then over the white-gold key. She looks up again, a question burning in her bright blue eyes.

  “To my heart and soul,” I whisper. She lets out a strangled cry and launches herself at me, taking me by surprise as she throws her arms around my neck. I cradle her in my lap.

  “It’s such a thoughtful present. I love it. Thank you.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

  Oh, baby. I tighten my arms around her.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says through her tears.

  I swallow, trying to digest her words and ignore the pang deep in my chest. “Please don’t cry.” My voice is husky with emotion. I love that she needs me.

  She sniffs. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy and sad and anxious at the same time. It’s bittersweet.”

  “Hey.” I tip her head back and press my lips to hers. “I understand.”

  “I know,” she says with a sad smile.

  “I wish we were in happier circumstances, and at home. But we’re here.” I give her an apologetic hug. Neither of us could have
foreseen this situation. “Come, up you go. After breakfast, we’ll check on Ray.”

  “Okay.” Her smile is a little cheerier when I leave her so she can dress.

  In the living room I order granola, yogurt, and berries for Ana, an omelet for me.

  It’s gratifying to see that Ana’s appetite has returned. She wolfs down her breakfast, a woman on a mission, but I don’t comment. It’s her birthday and I want her happy.

  Actually, I want her happy pretty much all the time.

  “Thank you for ordering my favorite breakfast.”

  “It’s your birthday. And you have to stop thanking me.”

  “I just want you to know that I appreciate it.”

  “Anastasia, it’s what I do.”

  I want to take care of you. I’ve told you more than once.

  She smiles. “Yes, it is.”

  Once she’s finished her breakfast, I ask as nonchalantly as possible if we should go. I’m excited to give her the car.

  “I’ll just brush my teeth.”

  I smirk. “Okay.”

  The little v forms between her brows as she frowns—I think she suspects something’s afoot—but she says nothing and heads to the bathroom. I text Taylor to let him know that we’re leaving imminently.

  As we walk to the elevators, I notice that Ana is wearing her new charm bracelet. Grasping her hand, I kiss her knuckles. My thumb grazes the helicopter charm. “You like?”

  “More than like. I love it. Very much. Like you.”

  I kiss her fingers once more while we wait for the elevator.

  The elevator.

  Where it all started. Where I lost control.

  Ceded control, Grey.

  Yes. She’s had you on a tight leash since you met her.

  Ana’s eyes flit to mine as we enter.

  Is she thinking what I’m thinking? “Don’t,” I whisper, as I push the button for the lobby and the doors slide shut.

  “Don’t what?” She peeks at me through her lashes, coy and provocative at once.

  “Look at me like that.”

  “Fuck the paperwork,” she says, with a wide grin.

  I laugh and tug her into my arms and tilt her face to mine. “Someday, I’ll rent this elevator for a whole afternoon.”

  “Just the afternoon?” She raises an eyebrow, and it’s a challenge.

 

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