by James, E L
“Do you know why?”
“Not yet. I’ll be back when Mrs. Grey wakes. She’s safe here. We have Hyde handcuffed to the bed, under police guard 24/7. He’s not going anywhere.”
“That’s reassuring. Will we get our money back?”
Clark frowns.
“The ransom.”
He smiles, briefly. “Eventually, Mr. Grey.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I’ll leave you to rest,” he says.
“Thank you.”
I grimace at Detective Clark’s back as he closes the door.
Hyde is here, somewhere in this hospital, because my wife put a bullet in him.
Anger surges through me again.
I could find him and finish the job.
He’s under guard, Grey. I hope to God he’s incarcerated for a very long time.
Dr. Bartley returns. “How are you doing, Mr. Grey?”
“I’m fine. It’s my wife I’m concerned about.”
“Well, I’m here to take a look at her.”
I stand back and let her do her checks.
“Why hasn’t she woken?” I ask.
“It’s a good question. I would have expected her to by now. What she’s been through was traumatic, though, so maybe she needs a little more down time to process it all. Was she under any other stress?” Dr. Bartley gives me a direct look and I flush, guiltily.
“Well, um…the pregnancy?” I keep my answer vague.
“I have an idea that may bring her around, but it might take a while to see if it works. Besides, I’m not happy catheterizing pregnant women for a long period of time. It runs the risk of UTI.”
“Okay, sure. Do I need to leave?”
“It’s up to you.”
“I’ll go fetch some coffee.”
Out in the corridor, my phone buzzes. It’s John Flynn.
“Christian. I heard about Ana. How is she?”
I sigh and give him the bullet-point summary. “She’s expected to wake at any time. It’s just—”
“I know. This must be hard on you. I’m sure she’s in capable hands. I got a missed call from you the other day. I was at my son’s parent-teacher conference.”
Ah. The night of my transgressions. It would have been great if he’d answered the phone.
“We’ll talk next week?” Flynn asks.
“Yes.”
“If you need me, I’m here.”
“Thanks, John.”
“Hello, darling.” Grace arrives during the evening carrying a small cooler bag.
“Mom.”
She hugs me briefly, then scrutinizes my face, her eyes full of concern. “When did you last eat?”
I gaze at her blankly while I try to remember. “Breakfast?”
“Oh, Christian, it’s after eight. You must be famished.” She strokes my cheek. “I’ve brought macaroni and cheese. I made it for you.”
I’m so tired that the burning in my throat moves to my eyes. “Thanks,” I whisper, and in spite of the fact that my wife has still not surfaced, I’m hungry.
No. I’m fucking starving.
“I’ll go heat this up. The nurses’ kitchen has a microwave. I’ll be a couple of minutes.”
My mother makes the best mac and cheese in America—better even than Gail’s. When she returns, the room fills with its mouthwatering aroma and we sit side by side, and she chats aimlessly while we watch my beautiful wife, who stubbornly refuses to wake.
“We took Mia home late this morning. Carrick’s with her.”
“How is she?” I ask.
“Christian! Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, with my mouth full—and she laughs. For the first time in forever, my lips lift in a reluctant smile.
“That’s better.” Grace’s eyes glow with maternal love, and I have to confess I feel more hopeful with her here. I finish the last forkful and place my plate on the floor, too tired to move any farther.
“That was delicious. Thanks, Mom.”
“My pleasure, darling. She’s very brave, your wife.”
“Stupid,” I mutter.
“Christian!”
“She is.”
Grace’s eyes narrow and she regards me speculatively. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something’s up. I mean, something other than Ana lying here unconscious and you being exhausted.”
How does she know?
Grace says nothing, her penetrating gaze doing all the talking. Silence fills the room, broken only by the hum of the machine monitoring Ana’s blood pressure.
Fuck.
Interfering woman.
It’s no good—I crack under her scrutiny, like I always do. “We had a fight.”
“A fight?”
“Yes. Before all this happened. We weren’t talking.”
“What do you mean, you weren’t talking? What did you do?”
“Mom—” Why does she automatically assume it was my fault?
“Christian! What did you do?”
I swallow, and my throat burns with unshed tears, exhaustion, and anxiety. “I was so angry.”
“Hey.” Grace takes my hand. “Angry with Ana? Why, what did she do?”
“She didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The baby. It was a shock. I stormed out.”
Mom grasps my hand, and suddenly I’m overcome with an urge to confess all. “I saw Elena,” I whisper, and shame washes over me like a riptide. My mother’s eyes widen, and she releases my hand.
“What do you mean, ‘saw’?” she hisses, emphasizing the last word with such scorn that it rocks me. Did you sleep with her? I recall Ana’s question from…when, yesterday? The day before?
First Ana, now my mother!
“Nothing like that! Fuck, Mom!”
“Don’t curse at me, Christian. What was I supposed to think?”
“We just talked. And I got drunk.”
“Drunk? Shit!”
“Mom! Don’t you curse! It sounds wrong.”
She presses her lips together. “You are the only one of my children that makes me use such vulgar language. You told me you would cut all ties.” Her glare is loaded with censure.
“I know. But seeing her finally put it all in perspective for me. You know, with the child. For the first time I felt…uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable. What we did. It was wrong.”
“What she did, darling. You were a child!” She purses her lips again and then sighs. “Christian, children will do that to you. They make you look at the world in a different light.”
“She finally got the message. I think. And so did I. I’m done with her. I hurt Ana.” Shame douses me once more.
“We always hurt the ones we love, darling. You’ll have to tell her you’re sorry. And mean it, and give her time.”
“She said she was leaving me.”
“Did you believe her?”
“At first, yes.”
“Darling, you always believe the worst of everyone, including yourself. You always have. Ana loves you very much, and it’s obvious you love her.”
“She was mad at me.”
“I’m sure she was. I’m pretty mad at you right now. I think you can only be truly mad at someone you really love.”
“I thought about it, and she’s shown me over and over how much she loves me, to the point of putting her own life in danger.”
“Yes, she has, darling.”
“Oh, Mom, why won’t she wake up?” Suddenly, it’s all too much. The lump in my throat swells, choking me, and I’m overwhelmed—the fight, Ana leaving, nearly dying, Hyde, Mia—fuck…and though I’ve tried to hold back my tears, I can’t. �
��I nearly lost her.” The words are strangled and barely audible as I voice my worst fear, and the dam breaks.
“Oh, Christian,” Mom gasps. She wraps her arms around me as I break down, and for the first time in my life, I weep in my mother’s arms: for my wife, my broken wife, and for myself, and the asshole I’ve been.
Hell. Hell. Hell.
Grace rocks me to and fro, kissing my hair and crooning soft words as she lets me cry. “It’s going to be okay, Christian. It’s going to be okay.”
She holds me. Tight. And I don’t want her to let go.
Mom.
The first woman to save me.
I sit up and wipe my face, and find she’s crying, too.
“For fuck’s sake, Mom, stop crying.”
Her tears turn to smiles. She hands me a tissue from her purse and takes one for herself. Reaching up, she caresses my face. “It’s taken twenty-four years for you to let me hold you like this,” she says sadly.
“I know, Mom.”
“Better late than never.” She pats my face, and I give her a watery smile.
“I’m glad we talked.”
“Me, too, darling. I’m always here.” She looks at me with nothing but love, and she grins with a hint of glee. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother!”
It’s darker. Later. I don’t know what time, and I’m too exhausted to look. Ana lies in her own private world.
“Oh, baby, please come back to me. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. Just wake up. I miss you. I love you.” I kiss her knuckles and rest my head on my arms, on her bed.
It’s a soft touch, fingers running through my hair, and in this dream, I revel in her touch. Shit. I wake instantly and sit up. Ana is gazing at me with big, beautiful blue eyes. Joy bursts in my heart. I have never been so pleased to see those eyes as I am now.
“Hi,” she croaks, her voice hoarse.
“Oh, Ana.” Oh, thank God, thank God, thank God. I grasp her hand and hold her palm to my face so she’s caressing me.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispers.
“Okay.”
Ana tries to sit up.
“Ana, stay still. I’ll call a nurse.” Standing, I reach for the buzzer at her bedside.
“Please,” she whispers. “I need to get up.”
“Will you do as you’re told for once?” I snap.
“I really need to pee,” she rasps.
The nurse arrives, and she’s pleased to see Ana’s finally conscious. “Mrs. Grey, welcome back. I’ll let Dr. Bartley know you’re awake.” She makes her way to Ana’s bedside. “My name is Nora. Do you know where you are?” Her blue eyes twinkle kindly.
“Yes. Hospital. I need to pee.”
“I’ll fetch a bedpan,” Nurse Nora offers
Ana screws up her face in revulsion. “Please. I want to get up.”
“Mrs. Grey—” Nora is not convinced.
“Please.”
“Ana,” I warn as she struggles to sit up.
“Mr. Grey, I am sure Mrs. Grey would like some privacy.” Nora raises an eyebrow, and from her tone I know she’s dismissing me.
In your dreams, sweetheart. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Christian, please—” Ana grasps my hand, and I give hers a squeeze, beyond grateful that she’s back. “Please,” she says once more.
Shit.
“Fine!” I run my hand over my scalp, frustrated that she wants to be rid of me already. “You have two minutes,” I snap at Nurse Nora. I lean down and kiss my wife’s forehead and storm out of the room.
I pace the corridor.
Ana doesn’t want me anywhere near her.
Perhaps she’s can’t stand the sight of me.
I wouldn’t blame her.
Fuck. I can’t bear this.
I storm back into the room as Nora is helping Ana out of bed.
“Let me take her,” I say.
“Mr. Grey, I can manage,” Nurse Nora scolds, giving me an icy look.
“Damn it, she’s my wife. I’ll take her.” I move her IV stand out my way.
“Mr. Grey!” Nora chastises me, but I ignore her and carefully place my arms around and under my wife and lift her.
Ana wraps her arms around my neck, and I carry her into the adjacent bathroom. Nurse Nora follows, pushing the IV stand.
“Mrs. Grey, you’re too light.” I set Ana on her feet, keeping one hand on her so she doesn’t fall. She seems a little unsteady. I flip on the light and Ana staggers.
Hell! “Sit, before you fall.” I don’t let go of her. Gingerly, she does as she’s told, and once she’s seated, I release her.
“Go.” She waves me out.
“No. Just pee, Ana.”
“I can’t, not with you here.” She peers up, beseeching me with wide, dark eyes.
“You might fall.”
“Mr. Grey!” Nora is not happy, but we both ignore her.
“Please,” Ana says.
Fuck. Get a grip, Grey.
“I’ll stand outside, door open.” I step outside with Nora while she glares at me.
“Turn around, please,” Ana says, and I want to smile. We’ve done all manner of things to each other but this is a hard limit for her? I roll my eyes, but do as she asks.
Nora mutters something under her breath and I think I catch the word interfering but I’m too relieved that Ana’s woken up to let it bother me.
After a minute or two, Ana pipes up that she’s done. I scoop her into my arms once more, and I’m thrilled when she curls her arms around me. I bury my nose in her hair, but I’m alarmed to find that she doesn’t smell of Ana—she smells of chemicals and hospitals and fucking trauma. But I don’t care. She’s back. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Mrs. Grey,” I whisper, and I lay her back on her bed, Nurse Nora trailing behind me with the IV, a scowling chaperone.
“If you’ve quite finished, Mr. Grey, I’d like to check over Mrs. Grey now.” Nurse Nora is hatchet-faced when mad.
I stand back and hold up my hands in surrender. “She’s all yours.”
Nora huffs, unimpressed, but she smiles at Ana. “How do you feel?”
“Sore and thirsty. Very thirsty.”
“I’ll fetch you some water once I’ve checked your vitals and Dr. Bartley has examined you.” She reaches for a blood pressure cuff and wraps it around Ana’s upper arm while I watch. Ana’s eyes stay on me. She frowns.
What is it?
Does she want me to leave?
Grey, you must look a sight.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, out of Nora’s reach. “How are you feeling?” I ask Ana.
“Confused. Achy. Hungry.”
“Hungry?”
She nods.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Anything. Soup.”
“Mr. Grey, you’ll need the doctor’s approval before Mrs. Grey can eat.”
Nora and I are not on the same wavelength. I pull my phone from my pocket and call Taylor.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Ana wants chicken soup.”
“I’m delighted to hear that, sir.” I know he’s smiling. “Gail’s gone to her sister’s, but I’ll call the Olympic Hotel—they’ll still have room service at this time.”
“Good.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.” I hang up.
Nora looks grimmer than ever. But I don’t care.
“Taylor?” Ana asks.
I nod.
“Your blood pressure is normal, Mrs. Grey. I’ll fetch the doctor.” Nora removes the cuff and, without so much as another word, stalks out of the room, radiating disapproval at me.
“I think you made Nurse Nora mad.”
“I have that effect on women.” I smi
rk at Ana, and she laughs, but stops abruptly, her face stricken, as she clutches her side. “Yes, you do,” she says, gently.
“Oh, Ana, I love to hear you laugh.” But not if it pains you.
Nora returns with a pitcher of water and Ana and I fall silent, gazing at each other as she pours a glass. “Small sips now,” Nora warns.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ana takes a sip and closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, she looks directly at me. “Mia?”
“She’s safe. Thanks to you.”
“They did have her?”
“Yes.”
“How did they get her?”
“Elizabeth Morgan.”
“No!”
I nod. “She picked her up at Mia’s gym.”
Ana frowns, as if she can’t quite comprehend the magnitude of Morgan’s and Hyde’s treachery.
“I’ll fill you in on the details later. Mia is fine, all things considered. She was drugged. She’s groggy now and shaken up, but by some miracle she wasn’t harmed.” My anger flares once more; Ana put herself and Junior in jeopardy. “What you did”—I drag my fingers through my hair, choosing my words carefully, and trying to hang on to my temper—“was incredibly brave and incredibly stupid. You could have been killed.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she whispers, and glances down at her fingers.
“You could have told me!”
“He said he’d kill her if I told anyone. I couldn’t take that risk.”
I close my eyes as I imagine the most awful outcome. No Mia. No Ana. “I have died a thousand deaths since Thursday.” My voice is hoarse.
“What day is it?”
“It’s almost Saturday.” I check my watch. “You’ve been unconscious for more than twenty-four hours.”
“And Jack, and Elizabeth?”
“In police custody. Although Hyde is here under guard. They had to remove the bullet you left in him.” Once more I wish she’d ended him. “I don’t know where in this hospital he is, fortunately, or I’d probably kill him myself.”
Ana’s eyes grow wide, and she shudders, her fear evident as her shoulders tense and tears prick her eyes.
“Hey.” I move forward, taking the glass from her hand, placing it on the nightstand, and gently folding her into my arms. “You’re safe now.”
“Christian, I’m so sorry.” She starts to cry.
No. Ana. You’re safe. “Hush.” I stroke her hair and let her weep.