Freed

by James, E L

Leaving the detritus of our lovemaking, Ana slips her arm around me. I switch off the iPod and we stroll back into the bedroom, while I wonder about my reaction.

  Why is it still so hard to hear her declarations of love sometimes?

  I shake my head.

  “Shall we watch TV?” Ana asks, and I know she’s trying to recapture our former levity.

  “I was hoping for round two.”

  She eyes me speculatively. “Well, in that case, I think I’ll be in charge.”

  Oh!

  She pushes me suddenly with such force that I fall onto the bed. Before I know it, she’s straddled me and is pinning my arms down on either side of my head.

  “Well, Mrs. Grey, now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

  Leaning down, her breath tickling my ear, she whispers, “I am going to fuck you with my mouth.”

  Oh boy.

  I close my eyes as she runs her teeth along my jaw, and I surrender to her. I surrender to the love of my life.

  Monday, September 12, 2011

  Ana is still asleep when I step out of the en suite. Frankly, I’m not surprised; she was persistent last night.

  Sex-mad and insatiable indeed.

  I’m not complaining.

  That delectable memory fresh in my mind, I gather my clothes together and step into the living room to get dressed. The remnants from last night’s tryst are still all over the sofa. I untie the bathrobe belts and grab the towel, wondering what housekeeping would have made of this scenario if they’d come in early to clean. Folding the items, I place them on the console beside the bedroom door.

  I order breakfast—it will take half an hour and I’m hungry. To distract myself, I sit down at the desk and open my laptop. Today, I want to arrange moving Ray to Northwest Hospital, where my mother can watch over him. I fire up my e-mails, and to my surprise there’s one from Detective Clark. He has questions for Ana about that asshole Hyde.

  What the hell?

  I send a brief reply to let him know we’re in Portland and he’ll have to wait until we return to Seattle. I call my mom and leave a message about moving Ray, then breeze through my other e-mails. There’s one from Ros: the Hwangs are inviting us to visit later this week.

  That will depend on Ray.

  I guess.

  I e-mail Ros to say that it’s likely that I’ll be able to go, but I can’t confirm yet, as we’re not sure what’s happening with my father-in-law.

  I don’t want to leave Ana to deal with this on her own.

  As I press send, I receive a reply from Clark.

  He’s coming to Portland.

  Shit.

  What can be that important?

  “Good morning.” Ana’s sweet tone interrupts my thoughts. When I turn around she’s standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but a sheet and a shy smile. Her hair is a tousled mess that falls to her breasts, her bright eyes intent on me.

  She looks like a Greek goddess.

  “Mrs. Grey. You’re up early.” I hold out my arms, and in spite of the sheet, she bolts across the room, offering me a welcome flash of legs, and lands in my lap.

  “As are you,” she says.

  I cradle her against me and kiss her hair. “I was just working.”

  “What?” she asks, leaning back to scrutinize me. She knows something is off.

  I blow out a breath. “I got an e-mail from Detective Clark. He wants to talk to you about that fucker Hyde.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I told him you’re in Portland for the time being, so he’ll have to wait. But he says he’d like to interview you here.”

  “He’s coming here?”

  “Apparently so.”

  She frowns. “What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

  “Exactly.”

  “When’s he coming?”

  “Today. I’ll e-mail him back.”

  “I have nothing to hide. I wonder what he wants to know?”

  “We’ll find out when he gets here. I’m intrigued, too.” I move in my chair. “Breakfast will be here shortly. Let’s eat, then we can go see your dad.”

  “You can stay here if you want. I can see you’re busy.”

  “No, I want to come with you.”

  “Okay.” She grins, pleased, I think, that I want to accompany her. She kisses me, then waltzes back toward the bedroom and, with a suggestive glance at me, lets the sheet drop as she crosses the doorway.

  Damn. Goddess indeed.

  That’s my cue. E-mails and breakfast can wait.

  I follow her into the bedroom to make good on her invitation.

  Ray is awake, but it would appear that he’s not in the best of tempers. After saying good morning, I leave Ana to deal with him and head to the waiting room—my new office, or so it seems. I’ve already received tentative approval from Dr. Sluder to move Ray to Seattle, and I’m waiting for my mother to confirm that there’s a bed for him at Northwest before I organize the helicopter transfer. Dr. Sluder thinks we can relocate him as early as tomorrow, but she’ll confirm that later today, once she’s run more tests.

  I call Andrea.

  “Good morning, Mr. Grey.”

  “Andrea, hello. I’m hoping we can move Raymond Steele tomorrow. Can you find an air ambulance service, please? Portland OHSU to Northwest Hospital. My mother should know a reliable company. I’ll ask Ray’s doctor if there’s any specific medical equipment that should be on board. Either she or I will send that through.”

  “I’ll call Dr. Grey.”

  “Do. I’m waiting to hear from her if there’s a room available.”

  “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Taiwan. Ros and I may fly out on Thursday evening. We’ll need the jet.”

  “You’re at WSU on Thursday morning.”

  “I know. But get Stephan and the crew prepped. It’s still tentative.”

  “Yes, sir. Actually, Ros wants a word.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Put me through.”

  Ros and I have a quick catch-up and decide that signatures on the Heads of Agreement for the Taiwan shipyard can wait until tomorrow, when I’m hopefully back in Seattle. As soon as I hang up, my phone buzzes. It’s Clark.

  “Mr. Grey. Thank you for seeing me today. Is four o’clock a good time?”

  “Sure. We’re at The Heathman.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Ana wanders into the waiting room. She looks serious.

  Is there a problem?

  “Okay,” I respond to Clark, and hang up. “Clark will be here at four this afternoon.”

  She frowns. “Okay. Ray wants coffee and doughnuts.”

  I laugh, not expecting that response. “I think I would, too, if I’d been in an accident. Ask Taylor to go.”

  “No, I’ll go.”

  “Take Taylor with you.”

  Ana rolls her eyes. “Okay.” She sounds like an exasperated teen.

  I smirk and cock my head to one side. “There’s no one here.”

  Her eyes widen a fraction as she catches my drift; her interest is clearly piqued. She sets her shoulders as if she’s going to challenge me and raises that stubborn Steele chin.

  A young couple enters the room behind her and the man has his arms around his weeping companion. The woman is visibly distraught. Shit, something is seriously wrong.

  Ana’s eyes widen with compassion, then she turns to me and lifts a shoulder in regret.

  Oh. Maybe she was game for a spanking. The thought is appealing.

  Very appealing.

  Picking up my laptop, I take her hand, and we head out of the room. “They need the privacy more than we do,” I mutter. “We’ll have our fun later.”

  Taylor is outside, waiting in the car. “Let’s all g
o get coffee and doughnuts,” I say. We could use a treat.

  Ana returns my smile. “Voodoo Doughnut in Portland. Best doughnuts in the world,” she says, and climbs into the back of the SUV.

  Detective Clark is punctual. Taylor shows him into our suite and he wanders in, looking as rumpled and curmudgeonly as ever. “Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey, thank you for seeing me.”

  “Detective Clark.” I shake his hand and direct him to sit down, then step over to join Ana on the sofa that I tied her to last night.

  “It’s Mrs. Grey I wish to see,” Clark says, his tone a little abrasive, and I know he’s addressing Taylor and me.

  Oh. Now I definitely want to hear what he has to say.

  I nod to Taylor, who acknowledges my cue and leaves, closing the door behind him.

  “Anything you wish to say to my wife you can say in front of me.” If this is about Hyde, I’m not leaving my wife’s side.

  “Are you sure you’d like your husband to be present?” Clark asks Ana.

  She looks puzzled. “Of course. I have nothing to hide. You are just interviewing me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’d like my husband to stay.”

  There. Told you so. I glare at him, pleased that Ana has taken my side. I sit down beside her, trying to mask my simmering irritation.

  “All right,” murmurs Clark. He coughs to clear his throat, and I wonder if he’s nervous. “Mrs. Grey, Mr. Hyde maintains that you sexually harassed him and made several lewd advances toward him.”

  What the fuck!

  Ana looks both shocked and amused at once. She places her hand on my thigh, but it doesn’t stop me. “That’s preposterous,” I exclaim. Her fingernails dig into my leg—I suspect in an attempt to shut me up.

  “That’s not true.” Ana looks him squarely in the eye, the embodiment of serenity as she addresses Clark. “In fact, it was the other way around. He propositioned me in a very aggressive manner, and he was fired.”

  Clark’s mouth flattens, as if he’d been expecting this response. “Hyde alleges that you fabricated a tale about sexual harassment in order to get him fired. He says that you did this because he refused your advances and because you wanted his job.”

  Ana’s face twists in disgust. “That’s not true.”

  This is fucking absurd.

  “Detective, please don’t tell me you have driven all this way to harass my wife with these ridiculous accusations.”

  Clark graces me with a resigned look. “I need to hear this from Mrs. Grey, sir.” Ana grasps my thigh again, and I know she wants me to shut up.

  “You don’t have to listen to this shit, Ana.”

  “I think I should let Detective Clark know what happened.” She pins me with bright blue eyes, imploring me to shut the fuck up.

  Okay, baby. Have it your way.

  Waving at her to continue, I endeavor to stay quiet and keep my temper in check. She folds her hands in her lap and continues, “What Hyde says is simply not true.” Her voice rings calm and clear through the room. “Mr. Hyde accosted me in the office kitchen one evening. He told me that it was thanks to him that I’d been hired, and that he expected sexual favors in return. He tried to blackmail me, using e-mails that I’d sent to Christian, who wasn’t my husband then. I didn’t know Hyde had been monitoring my e-mails. He’s delusional. He even accused me of being a spy sent by Christian, presumably to help him take over the company. He didn’t know that Christian had already bought SIP.” She shakes her head and knits her hands together. “In the end, I–I took him down.”

  “Took him down?” Clark interjects, puzzled.

  “My father is ex-army. Hyde, um, touched me, and I know how to defend myself.” Her eyes flick to mine, and I can’t hide my pride and awe for my girl.

  Don’t mess with my girl.

  She’s a warrior.

  “I see.” Clark huffs out a breath and sits back on the sofa.

  “Have you spoken to any of Hyde’s former personal assistants?” I ask. I’m curious to know if the cops have made more progress than Welch.

  “Yes, we have. But the truth is, we can’t get any of his assistants to talk to us. They all say he was an exemplary boss, even though none of them lasted more than three months.”

  Damn. “We’ve had that problem, too. My security chief, he’s interviewed Hyde’s past five PAs.”

  This news piques Clark’s interest. He frowns, his eyes boring into me. “And why’s that?”

  “Because my wife worked for him, and I run security checks on anyone my wife works with.”

  Clark’s face reddens. “I see.” His bushy brows draw together. “I think there’s more to this than meets the eye, Mr. Grey. We are conducting a more thorough search of his apartment tomorrow, so maybe something will present itself then. Though by all accounts he hasn’t lived there for some time.”

  “You’ve searched already?”

  “Yes. We’re doing it again. A fingertip search this time.”

  “You’ve still not charged him with the attempted murder of Ros Bailey and myself?”

  Maybe that’s the FBI’s prerogative?

  “We’re hoping to find more evidence in regard to the sabotage of your aircraft, Mr. Grey. We need more than a partial print, and while he’s in custody, we can build a case.”

  “Is this all you came down here for?”

  Clark stiffens. “Yes, Mr. Grey, it is, unless you’ve had any further thoughts about the note?”

  Again, Ana’s eyes scrutinize mine, but this time she’s frowning.

  “No. I told you. It means nothing to me.” My wife does not need to know about that! “And I don’t see why we couldn’t have done this over the phone.”

  “I think I told you, I prefer a hands-on approach. And,” he adds, slightly sheepishly, “I’m visiting my great-aunt, who lives in Portland. Two birds—one stone.”

  “Well, if we’re all done, I have work to attend to.” I stand, hoping that Clark will take the hint.

  He does. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Grey.”

  Ana nods.

  “Mr. Grey.”

  I open the door and he shuffles out.

  Thank fuck.

  Ana leans back into the sofa.

  “Can you believe that asshole?” I run my hands through my hair.

  “Clark?” Ana says.

  “No. That fucker, Hyde.”

  “No, I can’t.” She looks bemused.

  “What’s his fucking game?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think Clark believed me?”

  “Of course he did. He knows Hyde is a fucked-up asshole—”

  “You’re very sweary,” Ana chastises me.

  “Sweary? Is that even a word?”

  “It is now.”

  And just like that, her humor smothers my anger, and it’s gone. Marveling at the spell she casts, I sit down beside her and pull her into my arms. “Don’t think about that fucker. Let’s go see your dad and try to talk about the move tomorrow.”

  “He was adamant that he wanted to stay in Portland and not be a bother,” Ana says.

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  She fingers the buttons on my shirt. “I want to travel with him.”

  That should be possible. “Okay. I’ll come, too. Sawyer and Taylor can take the cars. I’ll let Sawyer drive your R8 tonight.”

  She offers me a sweet smile of thanks, and I feel ten feet tall.

  Ray has capitulated; he’s in far better spirits than he was this morning. The doughnuts must have worked their magic, and I think he’s secretly pleased that he’ll get to ride in a helicopter tomorrow. He doesn’t remember anything of his flight here from Astoria. I make a mental note to take him up in Charlie Tango at some point.

  While Ana sits with him, I head to the waiting room to
finalize Ray’s move.

  Andrea has everything organized. She is, without doubt, the best PA I’ve ever had.

  “Thanks, Andrea.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Grey. Anything else?”

  “No, it’s all good. Go home.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  I fire off a quick e-mail to Samir to review Andrea’s salary and recommend a generous raise.

  Before I head back to the ward, I reflect on Clark’s visit and what he did and didn’t say. He’s obviously liaising with the FBI with regard to Charlie Tango’s sabotage, but mentioned that he’s searching Hyde’s apartment again. Why? Does he have another lead? Or is it something else that he’s not telling us? And where was Hyde while he was planning his kidnap attempt? It’s obvious he was still in Seattle; I have the CCTV footage to prove it. This is worth exploring.

  I e-mail Welch and Barney and ask them if they tracked the movements of the white van that Hyde used before he arrived at Escala.

  Perhaps they’ll come up with something.

  Tuesday, September 13, 2011

  I hang up from my phone conversation with my mother and catch Ana’s monochrome eye. She’s gazing down at me from my office wall with her disarming smile, her eyes bright and brimming with intelligence. It’s been only three hours since I saw her, but I miss her already. I wonder what she’s doing right now? She’s probably at work and if all has gone to plan, Ray should be settled in his room at Northwest Hospital where my mother will keep an eye on him. I hope he’s comfortable, or as comfortable as he can be. He seemed to enjoy the flight from OHSU to Boeing Field, but he’s not a man who likes to be the center of attention—quite the opposite, in fact. A little like his daughter.

  And here I am, missing her.

  Last time I saw her, she was heading to the hospital in an ambulance with her father.

  I glance at my watch.

  She’ll definitely be at work.

  I type a quick e-mail.

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Missing You

  Date: September 13 2011 13:58

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Mrs. Grey

  I’ve been back in the office for only three hours, and I’m missing you already.

  Hope Ray has settled into his new room okay. Mom is going to see him this afternoon and check up on him.