Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told (Page 69)

Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(69)
Author: E.L. James

Ana

What the hell? Some woman I fuck occasionally?

I have to take a deep breath. Her response irks me…no, infuriates me. How dare she talk about herself like that? As my submissive she’ll be so much more than that. I’ll be devoted to her. Does she not realize this?

And she has driven a hard bargain with me. Good God! Look at all the concessions I’ve made with regard to the contract.

I count to ten, and to calm down, I visualize myself aboard The Grace, my catamaran, sailing on the Sound.

Flynn would be proud.

I respond.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Careful!

Date: May 26 2011 23:44

To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele,

I am assuming it is the RED WINE talking, and that you’ve had a very long day.

Though I am tempted to drive back over there to ensure that you don’t sit down for a week, rather than an evening.

Taylor is ex-army and capable of driving anything from a motorcycle to a Sherman tank. Your car does not present a hazard to him.

Now please do not refer to yourself as “some woman I fuck occasionally” because, quite frankly, it makes me MAD, and you really wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I exhale slowly, steadying my heart rate. Who else on earth has the ability to get under my skin like this?

She doesn’t write back immediately. Perhaps she’s intimidated by my response. I pick up my book, but soon find that I’ve read the same paragraph three times while awaiting her reply. I look up for the umpteenth time.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Careful Yourself

Date: May 26 2011 23:57

To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey,

I’m not sure I like you anyway, especially at the moment.

Miss Steele

I stare at her reply, and all my anger withers and dies, to be replaced by a surge of anxiety.

Shit.

Is she saying that’s it?

FRIDAY, MAY 27, 2011

* * *

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Careful Yourself

Date: May 27 2011 00:03

To: Anastasia Steele

Why don’t you like me?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I get up and open another bottle of sparkling water.

And wait.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Careful Yourself

Date: May 27 2011 00:09

To: Christian Grey

Because you never stay with me.

Six words.

Six little words that make my scalp tingle.

I told her that I didn’t sleep with anyone.

But today was a big day.

She graduated from college.

She said yes.

We went through all those soft limits that she knew nothing about. We fucked. I spanked her. We fucked again.

Shit.

And before I can stop myself, I grab the garage ticket for my car, pick up a jacket, and I’m out the door.

THE ROADS ARE EMPTY and I’m at her place twenty-three minutes later.

I knock quietly, and Kavanagh opens the door.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” she shouts, her eyes blazing with anger.

Whoa. Not the reception I was expecting.

“I’ve come to see Ana.”

“Well, you can’t!” Kavanagh stands with arms folded and legs braced in the doorway, like a gargoyle.

I try reasoning with her. “But I need to see her. She sent me an e-mail.” Get out of my way!

“What the fuck have you done to her now?”

“That’s what I need to find out.” I grit my teeth.

“Ever since she met you she cries all the time.”

“What?” I can’t deal with her shit anymore, and I barge past her.

“You can’t come in here!” Kavanagh follows me, shrieking like a harpy, as I storm through the apartment to Ana’s bedroom.

I open Ana’s door and switch on the main light. She’s huddled in her bed, wrapped in her comforter. Her eyes are red and puffy, and squinting in the overhead light. Her nose is swollen and blotchy.

I’ve seen women in this state many times, especially after I’ve punished them. But I’m surprised by the unease that grips my gut.

“Jesus, Ana.” I flick the main light off so she doesn’t have to squint and I sit on the bed beside her.

“What are you doing here?” She’s sniffling. I turn on her bedside light.

“Do you want me to throw this asshole out?” Kate barks from the doorway.

Fuck you, Kavanagh. Raising an eyebrow, I pretend to ignore her.

Ana shakes her head, but her watery eyes are on me.

“Just holler if you need me,” Kate says to Ana, as if she were a child. “Grey,” she snaps, so I’m obliged to look at her. “You’re on my shit list, and I’m watching you.” She sounds shrill, her eyes glinting with fury, but I don’t give a fuck.

Fortunately she leaves, pulling the door to, but not shutting it. I check in my inside pocket, and once again Mrs. Jones has exceeded all expectations; I fish out the handkerchief and give it to Ana. “What’s going on?”

“Why are you here?” Her voice is shaky.

I don’t know.

You said you didn’t like me.

“Part of my role is to look after your needs. You said you wanted me to stay, so here I am.” Nice save, Grey. “And yet I find you like this.” You weren’t like this when I left. “I’m sure I’m responsible, but I have no idea why. Is it because I hit you?”

She struggles to sit up and flinches when she does.

“Did you take some Advil?” As instructed?

She shakes her head.

When will you do as you’re told?

I go to find Kavanagh, who’s on the sofa, seething.

“Ana has a headache. Do you have any Advil?”

She raises her eyebrows, surprised, I think, by my concern for her friend. Glowering, she gets up and stomps into the kitchen. After some rustling through boxes she hands me a couple of tablets and a teacup of water.

Back in the bedroom I offer them to Ana and sit on the bed. “Take these.”

She does, her eyes clouded with apprehension.

“Talk to me. You told me you were okay. I’d never have left you if I thought you were like this.” Distracted, she toys with a loose thread on her quilt. “I take it that when you said you were okay, you weren’t.”

“I thought I was fine,” she admits.

“Anastasia, you can’t tell me what you think I want to hear. That’s not very honest. How can I trust anything you’ve said to me?” This will never work if she’s not honest with me.