chapterten

myheartispoundingandbloodthrumsloudlyinmyeardrums;thealcohol

flowingthroughmysystem,amplifyingthesound.

“ishe—”igasp,unabletofinishthesentenceandgazingwideeyedand

terrifiedatryan.ican’tevenlookatthepronefigureonthefloor.

“no,ma’am.justknockedoutcold.”

relieffloodsthroughme.ohthankgod.

“andyou?”iask,gazingatryan.irealizeidon’tknowhisfirstname.he’s

pantingasifhe’srunamarathon.hewipesthecornerofhismouth,

removingthetraceofblood,andafaintbruiseisformingonhischeek.

“heputuponehellofafight,buti’mokay,mrs.grey.”hesmiles

reassuringly.ifiknewhimbetter,i’dsayhelookedalittlesmug.

“andgail?mrs.jones?”ohno...issheokay?hasshebeenharmed?

“i’mhere,ana.”glancingbehindme,she’sinanightdressandrobe,herhair

loose,herfaceashenandhereyeswide—likemine,iimagine.

“ryanwokeme.insistedicomeinhere.”shepointsbehindherintotaylor’s

office.“i’mfine.areyouokay?”

inodbrisklyandrealizeshe’sprobablyjustcomeoutofthepanicroombuilt

adjoiningtaylor’soffice.whoknewwe’dneeditsosoon?

christianhadinsistedonitsinstallationshortlyafterourengagement—

andihadrolledmyeyes.now,seeinggailstandinginthedoorway,i’m

gratefulforhisforesight.

acreakfromthedoortothefoyerdistractsme.it’shangingoffitshinges.

whatthehellhappenedtothat?

“washealone?”iaskryan.

“yes,ma’am.youwouldn’tbestandinghereifhewasn’t,icanassureyou.”

ryansoundsvaguelyaffronted.

“howdidhegetin?”iask,ignoringhistone.

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“throughtheserviceelevator.he’sgotquiteapair,ma’am.”

istaredownatjack’sslumpedfigure.he’swearingauniformofsorts—

coveralls,ithink.

“when?”

“abouttenminutesago.icaughthimonthesecuritymonitor.hewas

wearinggloves...kindastrangeinaugust.irecognizedhimanddecidedto

givehimaccess.thatwayiknewwe’dha一vehim.youweren’thereandgail

wassafe,soifigureditwasnowornever.”ryanlooksverypleasedwith

himselfoncemore,andsawyerscowlsathimindisapproval.

gloves?thethoughtdistractsme,andiglanceoncemoreatjack.yes,he’s

wearingbrownleathergloves.creepy.

“whatnow?”itrytodismisstheramificationsfrommymind.

“weneedtosecurehim,”ryanreplies.

“securehim?”

“incasehewakes.”ryanglancesatsawyer.

“whatdoyouneed?”asksmrs.jones,steppingforward.she’srecovered

hercomposure.

“somethingtorestrainhim—cordorrope,”ryanreplies.cableties.iflush

asmemoriesofthepreviousnightinvademymind.reflexively,irubmy

wristsandglancequicklydownatthem.no,nobruising.good.

“iha一vesomething.cableties.willtheydo?”

alleyesturntome.

“yes,ma’am.perfect,”sawyersays,seriousandstraight-faced.iwantthe

floortoswallowmeup,butiturnandheadforourbedroom.sometimesyou

justha一vetobrazenthingsout.perhapsit’sthecombinationoffearand

alcoholmakingmeaudacious.whenireturn,mrs.jonesissurveyingthe

messinthefoyerandmissprescotthasjoinedthesecurityteam.ihandthe

tiestosawyer,whoslowly,andwithfranklyunnecessarycare,tieshyde’s

handsbehindhisback.mrs.jonesdisappearsintothekitchenandreturns

withafirstaidkit.shetakesryan’sarm,leadshimintothedoorwayofthe

greatroomandstartstendingtothecutabovehiseye.heflinchesasshe

dabsitwithanantisepticwipe.theninoticetheglockonthefloorwitha

silencerattached.holyshit!jackwasarmed?bilerisesinmythroatandi

fightitdown.

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eljames

“don’ttouch,mrs.grey,”saysprescottwhenibendtopickitup.sawyer

emergesfromtaylor’sofficewearinglatexgloves.

“i’lltakecareofthat,mrs.grey,”hesays.

“it’shis?”iask.

“yesma’am,”saysryan,wincingoncemorefrommrs.jones’s

ministrations.holycrap.ryanfoughtanarmedmaninmyhome.ishudderat

thethought.sawyerbendsandgingerlypicksuptheglock.

“shouldyoubedoingthat?”iask.

“mr.greywouldexpectitma’am.”sawyerslidesthegunintoazip-lockbag

thensquatstopatdownjack.hepausesandpartiallypullsarollofducttape

fromtheman’spocket.sawyerblanches,andpushesthetapebackinto

hyde’spocket.

whyducttape?mymindidlyregistersasiwatchtheproceedingswith

fascinationandanodddetachment.thenbilerisestomythroatagainasi

realizetheimplications.rapidly,idismissthemfrommyhead.don’tgo

there,ana!

“shouldwecallthepolice?”imutter,tryingtohidemyfear.iwanthydeoutof

myhome,soonerratherthanlater.

ryanandsawyerglanceateachother.

“ithinkweshouldcallthepolice,”isayrathermoreforcefully,wondering

what’sgoingonbetweenryanandsawyer.

“i’vejusttriedtaylorandhe’snotansweringhiscell.maybehe’sasleep.”

sawyercheckshiswatch.“it’soneforty-fiveinthemorningontheeast

coast.”

ohno.

“ha一veyoucalledchristian?”iwhisper.

“no,ma’am.”

“wereyoucallingtaylorforinstructions?”

sawyerlooksmomentarilyembarrassed.“yes,ma’am.”

partofmebristles.thisman—iglancedownathydeagain—hasinvaded

myhome,andheneedstoberemovedbythepolice.butlookingatthefour

ofthem,intotheiranxiouseyes,idecideimustbemissingsomethingsoi

decidetocallchristian.myscalpprickles.iknowhe’smadatme—really,

reallymadatme—andifalteratthethoughtofwhathe’llsay.andhowhe’ll

stressbecausehe’snothereandcan’tbehereuntiltomorrowevening.i

knowi’veworriedhimenoughthisevening.perhapsishouldn’tcallhim.and

thenitoccursto197|page

fiftyshadesfreed

me.shit.whatifi’dbeenhere?ipaleatthethought.thankhea一vensiwas

out.maybeiwon’tbeinsomuchtroubleafterall.

“isheokay?”iask,pointingatjack.

“he’llha一veanachingskullwhenhewakes,”ryansays,gazingdownatjack

withcontempt.“butweneedparamedicsheretomakesure.”

ireachintomypurseandpulloutmyblackberry,andbeforeicangivetoo

muchthoughttotheextentofchristian’sanger,idialhisnumber.itgoes

straighttovoicemail.hemustha一veswitcheditoffbecausehe’ssomad.i

cannotthinkwhattosay.turningaway,iwalkdownthehallwayalittle,away

fromeveryone.

“hi.it’sme.pleasedon’tbemad.we’vehadanincidentattheapartment.

butit’sundercontrol,sodon’tworry.nooneishurt.callme.”ihangup.

“callthepolice.”itellsawyer.henods,takesouthiscell,andmakesthecall.

officerskinnerisdeepinconversationwithryanatthediningroomtable.

officerwalkeriswithsawyerintaylor’soffice.idon’tknowwhereprescott

is,perhapsintaylor’soffice.detectiveclarkisbarkingquestionsatmeas

wesitonthecouchinthegreatroom.he’stall,darkandwouldbegood

lookingifitwasn’tforhispermanentscowl.isuspecthe’sbeenwokenand

draggedfromhiswarmbedbecausethehomeofoneofseattle’smost

influentialandwealthybusinessmenhasbeenbreached.

“heusedtobeyourboss?”clarkaskstersely.

“yes.”

iamtired—beyondtired—andiwanttogotobed.istillha一ven’theardfrom

christian.ontheplusside,hydehasbeenremovedbytheparamedics.

mrs.joneshandsmeanddetectiveclarkeachacupoftea.

“thanks,”gruntsclarkandturnsbacktome.“andwhereismr.grey?”

“newyork.onbusiness.he’llbebacktomorrowevening,imeanthis

evening.”it’saftermidnight.

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“hydeisknowntous,”detectiveclarkmurmurs.“i’llneedyoutocomedown

tothestationtomakeastatement.butthatcanwait.it’slateandtherearea

coupleofreporterscampedoutonthesidewalk.doyoumindifilook

around?”

“ofcoursenot,”ioffer,relievedhisquestioningisfinished.ishudderatthe

thoughtofthephotographersoutside.well,theywon’tbeaproblemuntil

tomorrow.iremindmyselftocallmymomandrayjustincasetheyhear

anythingandworry.

“mrs.grey,mayisuggestyougotobed?”mrs.jonessays,hervoicewarm

andfullofconcern.

lookingintoherwarm,kindeyesisuddenlyfeelanoverwhelmingneedto

cry.shereachesoverandrubsmyshoulder.

“we’resafenow,”shemurmurs.“thiswillalllookbetterinthemorningonce

you’vehadsomesleep.andmr.greywillbebacktomorrowevening.”

iglancenervouslyupather,keepingmytearsatbay.christianisgoingtobe

somad.

“canigetyouanythingbeforeyougotobed?”sheasks.what?andinthat

moment,irealizehowhungryiam.“i’dlovesomethingtoeat.”

shesmilesbroadly.“sandwichandsomemilk?”

inodwithgratitude,andsheheadsintothekitchen.ryanisstillwithofficer

skinner.inthefoyerdetectiveclarkisexaminingthemessoutsidethe

elevator.helooksthoughtful,inspiteofhisscowl.andsuddenlyifeel

homesick—homesickforchristian.holdingmyheadinmyhands,iwish

ferventlythathewerehere.he’dknowwhattodo.whatanevening.iwantto

crawlintohislap,ha一vehimholdmeandtellmethathelovesme,even

thoughidon’tdoasi’mtold—butthatwon’tbepossibleuntilthisevening.

inwardlyirollmyeyes...whydidn’thetellmeabouttheincreasedsecurity

foreveryone?whatexactlyisonjack’scomputer?he’ssofrustratingbut

rightnow,ijustdon’tcare.iwantmyhusband.imisshim.

“hereyouare,anadear.”mrs.jonesinterruptsmyinnerturmoil.wheni

glanceupather,shehandsmeapeanutbutterandjellysandwich,hereyes

twinkling.iha一ven’thadoneoftheseforyears.ismileshylyanddigin.

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fiftyshadesfreed

whenifinallycrawlintobed,icurluponchristian’sside,dressedinhistshirt.

bothhispillowandhist-shirtsmellofhim,andasidriftoffisilently

wishhimsafepassagehome...andagoodmood.

iwakewithastart.it’slightandmyheadisaching,throbbingatmytemples.

ohno.ihopeidon’tha一veahangover.cautiously,iopenmyeyes,andas

theyflutteropeninoticethebedroomchairhasmoved,andchristianis

seatedinit.he’swearinghistux,andtheendofhisbowtieispeepingoutof

thebreastpocket.iwonderifi’mdreaming.hisleftarmisdrapedoverthe

chair,andinhishandheholdsacutglasstumblerofamberliquid.brandy?

whiskey?iha一venoidea.onelonglegiscrossedattheankleoverhisknee.

he’swearingblacksocksanddressshoes.hisrightelbowrestsonthearm

ofthechair,hishandathischin,andhe’sslowlyrunninghisindexfinger

rhythmicallybackandforthoverhislowerlip.intheearlymorninglight,his

eyesburnwithgra一veintensitybuthisgeneralexpressioniscompletely

unreadable.

myheartalmoststops.he’shere.howdidhegethere?hemustha一veleft

newyorklastnight.howlonghashebeenherewatchingmesleep?

“hi,”iwhisper.

heregardsmecoolly,andmyheartstuttersoncemore.ohno.hemoves

hislongfingersawayfromhismouth,tossestheremainderofhisdrinkdown

histhroat,reachesoverandplacestheglassonthebedsidetable.ihalf

expecthimtokissme,buthedoesn’t.hesitsback,continuingtoregardme,

hisexpressionimpassive.

“hello,”hesaysfinally,hisvoicehushed.andiknowhe’sstillmad.really

mad.

“you’reback.”

“itwouldappearso.”

slowlyipullmyselfupintoasittingposition,nottakingmyeyesoffhim.my

mouthisdry.“howlongha一veyoubeensittingtherewatchingmesleep?”

“longenough.”

“you’restillmad.”icanhardlyspeakthewords.

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eljames

hegazesatme,asifconsideringhisresponse.“mad,”hesaysasiftesting

theword,weighingupitsnuances,itsmeaning.“no,ana.iamfar,far

beyondmad.”

holycrap.itrytoswallow,butit’shardwithadrymouth.

“farbeyondmad...thatdoesn’tsoundgood.”shit!

hegazesatme,completelyimpassive,anddoesn’trespond.astarksilence

stretchesbetweenus.ireachovertomyglassofno-longerquite-so-sparkling

waterandtakeawelcomesip,tryingtobringmyerraticheartrateunder

control.

“ryancaughtjack.”itryadifferenttack,andiplacemyglassbesidehison

thebedsidetable.

“iknow,”hesaysicily.

ofcourseheknows.“areyougoingtobemonosyllabicforlong?”

hiseyebrowsmovefractionallyregisteringhissurpriseasifhehadn’t

expectedthisquestion.“yes,”hesaysfinally.oh...okay.whattodo?

defense—thebestformofattack.“i’msorryistayedout.”

“areyou?”

“no,”imutterafterapause,becauseit’strue.

“whysayitthen?”

“becauseidon’twantyoutobemadatme.”

hesighshea一vilyasifhe’sbeenholdingthistensionforathousandhoursand

runshishandthroughhishair.helooksbeautiful.mad,butbeautiful.idrink

himin—christian’sback—angry,butinonepiece.

“ithinkdetectiveclarkwantstotalktoyou.”

“i’msurehedoes.”

“christian,please...”

“pleasewhat?”

“don’tbesocold.”

hiseyebrowsriseinsurpriseoncemore.“anastasia,coldisnotwhati’m

feelingatthemoment.i’mburning.burningwithrage.idon’tknowhowto

dealwiththese”—hewa一veshishandsearchingfortheword—“feelings.”his

toneisbitter.

ohshit.hishonestydisarmsme.alliwanttodoiscrawlintohislap.it’sall

i’vewantedtodosinceicamehomelastnight.butrightnow,idon’tthinkit’s

agoodidea.isit?tohellwiththis.imove,takinghimbysurpriseand

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fiftyshadesfreed

curlup.hedoesn’tpushmeaway,whichiswhati’dfeared.afterabeat,he

foldshisarmsaroundmeandburieshisnoseinmyhair.hesmellsof

whiskey.jeez,howmuchdidhedrink?hesmellsofbodywash,too...he

smellsofchristian.iwrapmyarmsaroundhisneckandnuzzlehisthroat,

andhesighsoncemore,deeplythistime.

“oh,mrs.grey.whatamigoingtodowithyou?”hekissesthetopofmy

head.iclosemyeyes,relishingthecontactwithhim.

“howmuchha一veyouhadtodrink?”

hestills.“why?”

“youdon’tnormallydrinkhardliquor.”

“thisismysecondglass.i’vehadatryingnight,anastasia.giveamana

break.”

ismile.“ifyouinsist,mr.grey,”ibreatheintohisneck.“yousmellhea一venly.i

sleptonyoursideofthebedbecauseyourpillowsmellsofyou.”

henuzzlesmyhair.“didyounow?iwonderedwhyyouwereonthisside.i’m

stillmadatyou.”

“iknow.”

hishandrhythmicallystrokesmyback.

“andi’mmadatyou,”iwhisper.

hepauses.“andwhat,pray,ha一veidonetodeserveyourire?”

“i’lltellyoulaterwhenyou’renolongerburningwithrage.”ikisshisthroat.he

closeshiseyesandleansintomykissbutmakesnomovetokissmeback.

hisarmstightenaroundme,squeezingme.

“whenithinkofwhatmightha一vehappened...”hisvoiceisbarelya

whisper.broken,raw.

“i’mokay.”

“oh,ana.”it’salmostasob.

“i’mokay.we’reallokay.abitshaken.butgailisfine.ryanisfine.and

jackisgone.”

heshakeshishead.“nothankstoyou,”hemutters.what?ileanback,and

glareathim.“whatdoyoumean?”

“idon’twanttoargueaboutitrightnow,ana.”

iblink.well,maybeido,butidecideagainstit.atleasthe’stalkingtome.i

nestleintohimoncemore.hisfingersmovetomyhairandstartplayingwith

it.

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“iwanttopunishyou,”hewhispers.“reallybeattheshitoutofyou,”headds.

myheartleapsintomymouth.fuck.“iknow,”iwhisperasmyscalpprickles.

“maybeiwill.”

“ihopenot.”

hehugsmetighter.“ana,ana,ana.you’dtrythepatienceofasaint.”

“icouldaccuseyouofmanythings,mr.grey,butbeingasaintisn’toneof

them.”

finallyiamblessedwithhisreluctantchuckle.“fairpointwellmadeasever,

mrs.grey.”hekissesmyforeheadandshifts.

“backtobed.youhadalatenight,too.”hemovesquickly,pickingmeup

anddepositingmebackonthebed.

“liedownwithme?”

“no.iha一vethingstodo.”hereachesdownandcollectstheglass.

“gobacktosleep.i’llwakeyouinacoupleofhours.”

“areyoustillmadatme?”

“yes.”

“i’llgobacktosleep,then.”

“good.”hepullstheduvetovermeandkissesmyforeheadoncemore.

“sleep.”

andbecausei’msogroggyfromthenightbefore,relievedthathe’sback,

andemotionallyfatiguedbyourearly-morningencounter,idoexactlyasi’m

told.asidriftoffi’mcuriousthoughgrateful,giventhenastytasteinmy

mouth,toknowwhyhehasn’tdeployedhisusualcopingmechanismand

leaptonmetoha一vehiswickedway.

“there’ssomeorangejuiceforyouhere,”christiansays,andmyeyesflutter

openagain.iha一vehadthemostrestfultwohoursofsleepicanremember,

andiwakerefreshed,myheadnolongerthrobbing.theorangejuiceisa

welcomesight—asismyhusband.he’sinhissweats.andi’mmomentarily

zappedbacktotheheathmanhotelandthefirsttimeieverwokeupwith

him.hisgraytanktopisdampwithhissweat.eitherhe’sbeenworkingout

inthebasementgymorhe’sbeenforarun,butheshouldn’tlookthisgood

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“i’mgoingtotakeashower,”hemurmursanddisappearstothebathroom.i

frown.he’sstilldistant.he’seitherdistractedbyallthat’shappened,orstill

mad,or...what?isitupandreachfortheorangejuice,drinkingitdowntoo

quickly.it’sdelicious,icecold,anditmakesmymouthamuchbetterplace.i

clamberoutofbed,anxioustoclosethedistance—realandmetaphysical—

betweenmyhusbandandme.iglancequicklyatthealarm.it’seighto’clock.

istripoffchristian’stshirtandfollowhimintothebathroom.he’sinthe

shower,washinghishair,andidon’thesitate.islipinbehindhimandhe

stiffensthemomentiwrapmyarmsaroundhim—myfronttohiswet,

muscularback.iignorehisreaction,holdinghimtightly,andpressmycheek

flatagainsthim,closingmyeyes.afteramoment,heshiftssoweareboth

underthecascadeofhotwaterandcarriesonwashinghishair.iletthe

waterwashovermeasicradlethemanilove.ithinkofallthetimeshe’s

fuckedmeandallthetimeshe’smadelovetomeinhere.ifrown.he’snever

beenthisquiet.turningmyhead,istarttotrailkissesacrosshisback.his

bodystiffensagain.

“ana,”hewarns.

“hmm.”

myhandstra一velslowlydownoverhistautstomachtohisbelly.heplaces

bothhishandsonmineandbringsthemtoanabrupthalt.heshakeshis

head.

“don’t,”hewarns.

oh.ireleasehim,immediately.he’ssayingno?mymindgoesintofreefall

—hasthiseverhappenedbefore?mysubconsciousshakesherhead,her

lipspursed.sheglaresatmeoverherhalf-moonglasses,wearingher

you’ve-really-fucked-up-this-timelook.ifeellikei’vebeenslapped,hard.

rejected.andalifetimeofinsecurityspawnstheuglythoughthedoesn’t

wantmeanymore.igaspasthepainsearsthroughme.christianturns,and

i’mrelievedtoseehe’snotcompletelyoblivioustomycharms.graspingmy

chin,hetiltsmyheadback,andifindmyselfgazingintohiswary,beautiful

eyes.

“i’mstillfuckingmadatyou,”hesays,hisvoicequietandserious.shit!

leaningdown,herestshisforeheadagainstmine,closinghiseyes.ireach

upandcaresshisface.

“don’tbemadatme,please.ithinkyou’reoverreacting,”iwhisper.

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hestraightens,blanching.myhandfallsfreetomyside.

“overreacting?”hesnarls.“somefuckinglunaticgetsintomyapartmentto

kidnapmywife,andyouthinki’moverreacting!”therestrainedmenacein

hisvoiceisfrightening,andhiseyesblazeashestaresatmelikei’mthe