五十度灰(Fifty Shades of Grey)英文版 Part II 20

justnotthatintoyou.

“look,thatsoundedallwrong.hedoesn’twantto

datebecausehissisterisgoingoutwithmybrother.you

know—hethinksit’sallkindofincestuous.butiknowhe

likesme.whatcanido?”

“oh,isee,”imutter,tryingtobuymyselfsometime.

whatcanisay?“canyouagreetobefriendsandgiveit

sometime?imeanyou’veonlyjustmethim.”

shecockshereyebrowandiflush.

“look,iknowi’veonlyreallyjustmetchristian

but...”iscowlathernotsurewhatiwanttosay.“mia,

thisissomethingyouandethanha一vetoworkouttogether.

iwouldtrythefriendshiproute.”

miagrins.

“you’velearnedthatlookfromchristian.”

iflush.“ifyouwantadvice,askkate.shemayha一ve

someinsightastohowherbrotherfeels.”

“youthink?”miaasks.

“yes.”ismileencouragingly.

“cool.thanks,ana.”shegivesmeanotherhugand

scuttlesexcitedly—andimpressively,givenherhighheels

—tothedoor,nodoub一tofftobotherkate.itakeanother

sipofmymartini,andi’mabouttofollowherwheniam

stoppedinmytracks.

elenabreezesintotheroom,herfacetaut,setingrim,

angrydetermination.sheclosesthedoorquietlybehind

herandscowlsatme.

ohcrap.

“ana,”shesneers.

isummonallmyself-possession,slightlyfuzzyfrom

twoglassesofchampagneandthelethalcocktailiholdin

myhand.ithinkthebloodhasdrainedfrommyface,buti

marshalbothmysubconsciousandmyinnergoddessin

ordertoappearascalmandasunflappableasican.

“elena.”myvoiceissmall,butsteady—despitemy

drymouth.whydoesthiswomanfreakmeoutsomuch?

andwhatdoesshewantnow?

“iwouldofferyoumyheartfeltcongratulations,buti

thinkthatwouldbeinappropriate.”herpiercingcoldblue

eyesstarefrostilyintomine,filledwithloathing.

“ineitherneednorwantyourcongratulations,elena.

i’msurprisedanddisappointedtoseeyouhere.”

shearchesaneyebrow.ithinkshe’simpressed.

“iwouldn’tha一vethoughtofyouasaworthyadversary,

anastasia.butyousurprisemeateveryturn.”

“iha一ven’tthoughtofyouatall,”ilie,coolly.christian

wouldbeproud.“nowifyou’llexcuseme,iha一vemuch

betterthingstodothanwastemytimewithyou.”

“notsofast,missy,”shehisses,leaningagainstthe

door,effectivelyblockingit.“whatonearthdoyouthink

you’redoing,consentingtomarrychristian?ifyouthink

foroneminuteyoucanmakehimhappy,you’reverymuch

mistaken.”

“whati’mconsentingtodowithchristianisnoneof

yourconcern.”ismilewithsarcasticsweetness.she

ignoresme.

“hehasneeds—needsyoucannotpossiblybeginto

satisfy,”shegloats.

“whatdoyouknowofhisneeds?”isnarl.mysense

ofindignationflaresbrightly,burninginsidemeas

adrenalinesurgesthroughmybody.howdarethisfucking

bitchpreachtome?“you’renothingbutasickchild

molester,andifitwasuptome,i’dtossyouintothe

seventhcircleofhellandwalkawaysmiling.nowgetout

ofmyway—ordoiha一vetomakeyou?”

“you’remakingabigmistakehere,lady.”sheshakes

along,skinny,finelymanicuredfingeratme.“howdare

youjudgeourlifestyle?youknownothing,andyouha一ve

noideawhatyou’regettingyourselfinto.andifyouthink

he’sgoingtobehappywithamousylittlegold-diggerlike

you...”

that’sit!ithrowtherestofmylemonmartiniinher

face,drenchingher.

“don’tyoudaretellmewhati’mgettingmyselfinto!”i

shoutather.“whenwillyoulearn?it’snoneofyour

goddamnedbusiness!”

shegapesatme,horrorstruck,wipingthestickydrink

offherface.ithinkshe’sabouttolungeatme,butshe’s

suddenlyshuntedforwardasthedooropens.

christianisstandinginthedoorway.ittakeshima

nanosecondtoassessthesituation—meashenand

shaking,hersoakedandlivid.hislovelyfacedarkensand

contortswithangerashecomestostandbetweenus.

“whatthefuckareyoudoing,elena?”hesays,his

voiceglacialandlacedwithmenace.

sheblinksupathim.“she’snotrightforyou,

christian,”shewhispers.

“what?”heshouts,startlingbothofus.ican’tseehis

facebuthiswholebodyhastensed,andheradiates

animosity.

“howthefuckdoyouknowwhat’srightforme?”

“youha一veneeds,christian,”shesayshervoicesofter.

“i’vetoldyoubefore—thisisnoneofyourfucking

business,”heroars.ohcrap—veryangrychristianhas

rearedhisnot-so-uglyhead.peoplearegoingtohear.

“whatisthis?”hepauses,glaringather.“doyou

thinkit’syou?you?youthinkyou’rerightforme?”his

voiceissofterbutdripscontempt,andsuddenlyidon’t

wanttobehere.idon’twanttowitnessthisintimate

encounter.i’mintruding.buti’mstuck—mylimbs

unwillingtomove.

elenaswallowsandseemstodrawherselfupright.her

stancechangessub一tly,becomesmorecommanding,and

shestepstowardhim.

“iwasthebestthingthateverhappenedtoyou,”she

hissesarrogantlyathim.“lookatyounow.oneofthe

richest,mostsuccessful,entrepreneursintheus—

controlled,driven—youneednothing.youaremasterof

youruniverse.”

hestepsbackasifhe’sbeenstruckandgapesather

inoutrageddisbelief.

“youlovedit,christian,don’ttryandkidyourself.

youwereontheroadtoself-destruction,andisa一vedyou

fromthat,sa一vedyoufromalifebehindbars.believeme,

baby,that’swhereyouwouldha一veendedup.itaughtyou

everythingyouknow,everythingyouneed.”

christianblanches,staringatherinhorror.whenhe

speaks,hisvoiceislowandincredulous.

“youtaughtmehowtofuck,elena.butit’sempty,

likeyou.nowonderlincleft.”

bilerisesinmymouth.ishouldnotbehere.buti’m

frozentothespot,morbidlyfascinatedastheyeviscerate

eachother.

“youneveronceheldme,”christianwhispers.“you

neveroncesaidyoulovedme.”

shenarrowshereyes.“loveisforfools,christian.”

“getoutofmyhouse.”grace’simplacable,furious

voicestartlesus.threeheadsswingrapidlytowhere

gracestandsonthethresholdoftheroom.sheisglaring

atelena,whopalesbeneathherst.tropeztan.

timeseemssuspendedaswecollectivelytakeadeep

gaspingbreath,andgracestalksdeliberatelyintothe

room.hereyesblazewithfury,neveroncelea一vingelena,

untilshestandsbeforeher.elena’seyeswideninalarm,

andgraceslapsherhardacrosstheface,thesoundofthe

impactresoundingoffthewallsofthediningroom.

“takeyourfilthypawsoffmyson,youwhore,andget

outofmyhouse—now!”shehissesthroughgrittedteeth.

elenaclutchesherreddeningcheekandstaresin

horrorforamoment,shockedandblinkingatgrace.then

shehurriesfromtheroom,notbotheringtoclosethedoor

behindher.

graceturnsslowlytofacechristianandatensesilence

settleslikeathickblanketoverusaschristianandgrace

stareateachother.afterabeat,gracespeaks.

“ana,beforeihandhimovertoyou,wouldyoumind

givingmeaminuteortwoalonewithmyson?”hervoice

isquiet,husky,butoh-so-strong.

“ofcourse,”iwhisper,andexitasquicklyasican,

glancinganxiouslyovermyshoulder.butneitherofthem

lookatmeasilea一ve.theycontinuetostareateachother,

theirunspokencommunicationblaringlyloud.

inthehallway,iammomentarilylost.myheartpounds

andmybloodracesthroughmyveins...ifeelpanicked

andoutofmydepth.holyfuck,thatwashea一vyandnow

graceknows.crap.ican’tthinkwhatshe’sgoingtosay

tochristian,andiknowit’swrong,iknow,butilean

againstthedoortryingtolisten.

“howlong,christian?”grace’svoiceissoft.ican

barelyhearher.

icannothearhisreply.

“howoldwereyou?”hervoiceismoreinsistent.“tell

me.howoldwereyouwhenthisallstarted?”againi

can’thearchristian.

“everythingokay,ana?”rosinterruptsme.

“yes.fine.thankyou.i...”

rossmiles.“i’mjustgoingtofetchmypurse.ineeda

cigarette.”

forabriefmoment,icontemplatejoiningher.

“i’mofftothebathroom.”ineedtogathermywits

andmythoughts,toprocesswhati’vejustwitnessedand

heard.upstairsseemsthesafestplacetobeonmyown.i

watchrosstrollintothedrawingroom,andibolttwo

stairsatatimetothesecondfloor,thenuptothethird.

there’sonlyoneplaceiwanttobe.

iopenthedoortochristian’schildhoodbedroomand

shutitbehindme,takingahugegulpingbreath.heading

forhisbed,iflopontoitandstareattheplainwhite

ceiling.

holycow.thathastobe,withoutdoub一t,oneofthe

mostexcruciatingconfrontationsi’veeverhadtoendure,

andnowifeelnumb.myfiancéandhisex-lover—no

would-bebrideshouldha一vetoseethat.ha一vingsaidthat,

partofmeisgladshe’srevealedhertrueself,andthati

wastheretobearwitness.

mythoughtsturntograce.poorgrace,tohearall

that.iclutchoneofchristian’spillows.she’llha一ve

overheardthatchristianandelenahadanaffair—butnot

thenatureofit.thankhea一vens.igroan.

whatamidoing?perhapstheevilwitchhadapoint.

no,irefusetobelievethat.she’ssocoldandcruel.i

shakemyhead.she’swrong.iamrightforchristian.iam

whatheneeds.andinamomentofstunningclarity,i

don’tquestionhowhe’slivedhislifeuntilrecently—but

why.hisreasonsfordoingwhathe’sdonetocountless

girls—idon’tevenwanttoknowhowmany.thehow

isn’twrong.theywerealladults.theywereall—howdid

flynnputit?—insafe,sane,consensualrelationships.it’s

thewhy.thewhywaswrong.thewhywasfromhisplace

ofdarkness.

iclosemyeyesanddrapemyarmoverthem.butnow

he’smovedon,leftitbehind,andwearebothinthelight.

i’mdazzledbyhimandhebyme.wecanguideeach

other.athoughtoccurstome.shit!agnawing,insidious

thoughtandi’mintheoneplacewhereicanlaythisghost

torest.isitup.yes,imustdothis.

shakilyigettomyfeet,kickoffmyshoes,walkover

tohisdesk,andexaminethepinboardaboveit.the

photosofyoungchristianareallstillthere—morepoignant

thaneverasithinkofthespectaclei’vejustwitnessed

betweenhimandmrs.robinson.andthereinthecorner

isthesmallblackandwhitephoto—hismother,thecrack

whore.

iswitchonthedesklampandfocusthelightonher

picture.idon’tevenknowhername.shelookssomuch

likehimbutyoungerandsadderandallifeel,lookingat

hersorrowfulface,iscompassion.itrytoseethe

similaritiesbetweenherfaceandmine.isquintatthe

picture,gettingreally,reallyclose,andseenone.except

maybeourhair,butithinkhersislighterthanmine.idon’t

looklikeheratall.it’sarelief.

mysubconscioustutsatme,armscrossed,glaring

overherhalf-moonglasses.whyareyoutorturing

yourself?you’vesaidyes.you’vemadeyourbed.i

pursemylipsather.yesiha一ve,gladlyso.iwanttoliein

thatbedwithchristianfortherestofmylife.myinner

goddess,sittinginthelotusposition,smilesserenely.yes.

i’vemadetherightdecision.

imustfindhim—christianwillbeworried.iha一veno

ideahowlongi’vebeeninhisroom;he’llthinkthati’ve

fled.irollmyeyesasicontemplatehisoverreaction.i

hopethatheandgraceha一vefinished.ishuddertothink

whatelseshemightha一vesaidtohim.

imeetchristianasheclimbsthestairstothesecond

floor,lookingforme.hisfaceisstrainedandweary—not

thecarefreefiftyiarrivedwith.asistandonthelanding,

hestopsonthetopstairsothatweareeyetoeye.

“hi,”hesayscautiously.

“hi,”ianswerwarily.

“iwasworried—”

“iknow,”iinterrupthim.“i’msorry—icouldn’tface

thefestivities.ijusthadtogetaway,youknow.tothink.”

reachingup,icaresshisface.hecloseshiseyesand

leanshisfaceintomyhand.

“andyouthoughtyou’ddothatinmyroom?”

“yes.”

hereachesformyhandandpullsmeintoanembrace,

andigowillinglyintohisarms,myfa一voriteplaceinthe

wholeworld.hesmellsoffreshlaundry,bodywash,and

christian—themostcalmingandarousingscentonthe

planet.heinhaleswithhisnoseinmyhair.

“i’msorryyouhadtoendureallthat.”

“it’snotyourfault,christian.whywasshehere?”he

gazesdownatme,andhismouthcurlsapologetically.

“she’safamilyfriend.”

itrynottoreact.“notanymore.how’syourmom?”

“momisprettyfuckingmadatmerightnow.i’mreally

gladyou’rehere,andthatwe’reinthemiddleofaparty.

otherwiseimightbebreathingmylast.”

“thatbad,huh?”

henods,hiseyesserious,andisensehis

bewildermentatherreaction.

“canyoublameher?”myvoiceisquiet,cajoling.

hehugsmetightlyandheseemsuncertain,processing

histhoughts.

finallyheanswers.“no.”

whoa!breakthrough.“canwesit?”iask.

“sure.here?”

inodandwebothsitatthetopofthestairs.

“so,howdoyoufeel?”iask,anxiouslyclutchinghis

handandgazingathissad,seriousface.

hesighs.

“ifeelliberated.”heshrugs,thenbeams—aglorious,

carefreechristiansmile,andthewearinessandstrain

presentmomentsagoha一vevanished.

“really?”ibeamback.wow,i’dcrawloverbroken

glassforthatsmile.

“ourbusinessrelationshipisover.done.”

ifrownathim.“willyouliquidatethesalonbusiness?”

hesnorts.“i’mnotthatvindictive,anastasia,”he

admonishesme.“no.i’llgiftthemtoher.i’lltalktomy

lawyermonday.ioweherthatmuch.”

iarchaneyebrowathim.“nomoremrs.robinson?”

hismouthtwistsinamusementandheshakeshishead.

“gone.”

igrin.

“i’msorryyoulostafriend.”

heshrugsthensmirks.“areyou?”

“no,”iconfess,flushing.

“come.”hestandsandoffersmehishand.“let’sjoin

thepartyinourhonor.imightevengetdrunk.”

“doyougetdrunk?”iaskasitakehishand.

“notsinceiwasawildteenager.”wewalkdownthe

stairs.

“ha一veyoueaten?”heasks.

ohcrap.

“no.”

“wellyoushould.fromthelookandsmellofelena,

thatwasoneofmyfather’slethalcocktailsyouthrewover

her.”hegazesatme,tryingandfailingtokeepthe

amusementoffhisface.

“christian,i—”

heholdsuphishand.

“noarguing,anastasia.ifyou’regoingtodrink—and

throwalcoholovermyexes—youneedtoeat.it’srule

numberone.ibelievewe’vealreadyhadthatdiscussion

afterourfirstnighttogether.”

ohyes.theheathman.

backinthehallway,hepausestocaressmyface,his

fingersskimmingmyjaw.

“ilayawakeforhoursandwatchedyousleep,”he

murmurs.“imightha一velovedyoueventhen.”

oh.

heleansdownandkissesmesoftly,andimelt

everywhere,allthetensionofthelasthourorsoseeping

languidlyfrommybody.

“eat,”hewhispers.

“okay,”iacquiescebecauserightnowi’dprobably

doanythingforhim.takingmyhand,heleadsmetoward

thekitchenwherethepartyisinfullswing.

“goodnight,john,rhian.”

“congratulationsagain,ana.youtwowillbejust

fine.”dr.flynnsmileskindlyatus,standingarminarmin

thehallwayasheandrhiantaketheirlea一ve.

“goodnight.”

christianclosesthedoorandshakeshishead.he

gazesdownatme,hiseyessuddenlybrightwith

excitement.

what’sthis?

“justthefamilyleft.ithinkmymotherhashadtoo

muchtodrink.”graceissingingkaraokeonsomegame

consoleinthefamilyroom.kateandmiaaregivinghera

runforhermoney.

“doyoublameher?”ismirkathim,tryingtokeepthe

atmospherebetweenuslight.isucceed.

“areyousmirkingatme,misssteele?”

“iam.”

“it’sbeenquiteaday.”

“christian,recently,everydaywithyouhasbeenquite

aday.”myvoiceissardonic.

heshakeshishead.“fairpointwellmade,miss

steele.come—iwanttoshowyousomething.”taking

myhand,heleadsmethroughthehousetothekitchen

wherecarrick,ethan,andelliotaretalkingmariners,

drinkingthelastofthecocktails,andeatingleftovers.

“offforastroll?”elliotteasessuggestivelyaswemake

ourwaythroughthefrenchdoors.christianignoreshim.

carrickfrownsatelliot,shakinghisheadinasilent

rebuke.

aswemakeourwayupthestepstothelawn,itake

offmyshoes.thehalf-moonshinesbrightlyoverthebay.

it’sbrilliant,castingeverythinginmyriadofshadesofgray

asthelightsofseattletwinklesweetlyinthedistance.the

lightsoftheboathouseareon,asoftglowingbeaconinthe

coolcastofthemoon.

“christian,i’dliketogotochurchtomorrow.”

“oh?”

“iprayedyou’dcomebackaliveandyoudid.it’sthe

leasticoulddo.”

“okay.”

wewanderhandinhandinarelaxedsilenceforafew

moments.thensomethingoccurstome.

“whereareyougoingtoputthephotosjosétookof

me?”

“ithoughtwemightputtheminthenewhouse.”

“youboughtit?”

hestopstostareatme,andhisvoicefullofconcern.

“yes.ithoughtyoulikedit.”

“ido.whendidyoubuyit?”

“yesterdaymorning.nowweneedtodecidewhatto

dowithit,”hemurmurs,relieved.

“don’tknockitdown.please.it’ssuchalovelyhouse.

itjustneedssometenderlovingcare.”

christianglancesatmeandsmiles.“okay.i’lltalkto

elliot.heknowsagoodarchitect;shedidsomeworkon

myplaceisaspen.hecandotheremodeling.”

isnort,suddenlyrememberingthelasttimewecrossed

thelawnunderthemoonlighttotheboathouse.oh,

perhapsthat’swhatwe’regoingtodonow.igrin.

“what?”

“irememberthelasttimeyoutookmetothe

boathouse.”

christianchucklesquietly.“oh,thatwasfun.in

fact...”hesuddenlystopsandscoopsmeoverhis

shoulder,andisqueal,thoughwedon’tha一vefartogo.

“youwerereallyangry,ifiremembercorrectly,”i

gasp.

“anastasia,i’malwaysreallyangry.”

“noyou’renot.”

heswatsmybehindashestopsoutsidethewooden

door.heslidesmedownhisbodybacktothegroundand

takesmyheadinhishands.

“no,notanymore.”leaningdown,hekissesme,hard.

whenhepullsaway,i’mbreathlessanddesireisracing

roundmybody.

hegazesdownatme,andintheglowofthestripof

lightcomingfrominsidetheboathouse,icanseehe’s

anxious.myanxiousman,notawhiteknightoradark

knight,butaman—abeautiful,not-quite-so-fucked-up

man—whomilove.ireachupandcaresshisface,running

myfingersthroughhissideburnsandalonghisjawtohis

chin,thenletmyindexfingertouchhislips.herelaxes.

“i’vesomethingtoshowyouinhere,”hemurmursand

opensthedoor.

theharshlightofthefluorescentsilluminatesthe

impressivemotorlaunchinthedock,bobbinggentlyonthe

darkwater.there’sarowboatbesideit.

“come.”christiantakesmyhandandleadsmeupthe

woodenstairs.openingthedooratthetop,hestepsaside

toletmein.

mymouthdropstothefloor.theatticis

unrecognizable.theroomisfilledwithflowers...there

areflowerseverywhere.someonehascreatedamagical

bowerofbeautifulwildmeadowflowersmixedwith

glowingfairylightsandminiaturelanternsthatglowsoft

andpaleroundtheroom.

myfacewhipsroundtomeethis,andhe’sgazingat

me,hisexpressionunreadable.heshrugs.

“youwantedheartsandflowers,”hemurmurs.

iblinkathim,notquitebelievingwhati’mseeing.

“youha一vemyheart.”andhewa一vestowardtheroom.

“andherearetheflowers,”iwhisper,completinghis

sentence.“christian,it’slovely.”ican’tthinkofwhatelse

tosay.myheartisinmymouthastearsprickmyeyes.

tuggingmyhand,hepullsmeintotheroom,and

beforeiknowit,he’ssinkingtoonekneeinfrontofme.

holyhell...ididnotexpectthis!istopbreathing.

fromhisinsidejacketpocketheproducesaringand

gazesupatme,hiseyesbrightgrayandraw,fullof

emotion.

“anastasiasteele.iloveyou.iwanttolove,cherish,

andprotectyoufortherestofmylife.bemine.always.

sharemylifewithme.marryme.”

iblinkdownathimasmytearsfall.myfifty,myman.

ilovehimso,andallicansayasthetidalwa一veof

emotionhitsmeis,“yes.”

hegrins,relieved,andslowlyslidestheringonmy

finger.it’sbeautiful,anovaldiamondinaplatinumring.

jeez—it’sbig...big,butoh-so-simpleandstunninginits

simplicity.

“oh,christian,”isob,suddenlyoverwhelmedwith

joy,andijoinhimonmyknees,myfingersfistinginhis

hairasikisshim,kisshimwithallmyheartandsoul.kiss

thisbeautifulman,wholovesmeasilovehim;andashe

wrapshisarmsaroundme,hishandsmovingtomyhair,

hismouthonmine.iknowdeepdowniwillalwaysbehis,

andhewillalwaysbemine.we’vecomesofartogether,

weha一vesofartogo,butwearemadeforeachother.we

aremeanttobe.

thecigaretteendglowsbrightlyinthedarknessashe

takesadeeppull.heblowsthesmokeoutinalong

exhale,finishingwithtwosmokeringsthatdissolveinfront

ofhim,paleandghostlyinthemoonlight.heshiftsinhis

seat,bored,andtakesaquickshotofcheapbourbon

fromabottlewrappedinshabbybrownpaperbefore

restingitbackbetweenhisthighs.

hecan’tbelievehe’sstillonthetrail.hismouthtwists

inasardonicsneer.thehelicopterhadbeenarashand

boldmove.oneofthemostexhilaratingthingshe’dever

doneinhislife.buttonoa一vail.herollshiseyesironically.

whowouldha一vethoughttheson-of-a-bitchcould

actuallyflythefucker?

hesnorts.

theyha一veunderestimatedhim.ifgreythoughtforone

minutehe’dgowhimperingquietlyintothedusk,thatprick

didn’tknowjackshit.

ithadbeenthesameallhislife.peopleconstantly

underestimatinghim—justamanwhoreadsbooks.fuck

that!amanwithaphotographicmemorywhoreads

books.oh,thethingshe’slearned,thethingsheknows.

hesnortsagain—yeah,aboutyou,grey.thethingsi

knowaboutyou.

notbadforakidfromthegutterendofdetroit.

notbadforthekidwhowonascholarshipto

princeton.

notbadforthekidwhoworkedhisassoffthrough

collegeandgotintopublishing.

andnowallofthat’sfucked,fuckedbecauseofgrey

andhislittlebitch.hescowlsatthehouseasifit

representseverythinghedespises.butthere’snothing

doing.theonlydramahadbeenthestacked,blondbroad

inblack,teeteringdownthedrivewayintearsbeforeshe

climbedintothewhiteclkandfuckedoff.

hechucklesmirthlessly,thenwinces.fuck,hisribs.

stillsorefromtheswiftkickinggrey’shenchman

delivered.

hereplaysthesceneinhismind.“youfuckingtouch

misssteeleagain,i’llfuckingkillyou.”

thatmotherfuckerwillgetitgood,too.yeah—get

what’scomingtohim.

hesettlesbackinhisseat.lookslikeit’sgoingtobe

alongnight.he’llstay,watch,andwait.hetakes

anothertokeofhismarlborored.hischancewillcome.

hischancewillcomesoon.

endofparttwo...