五十度灰(Fifty Shades of Grey)英文版 Part II 4

dialsanumber.“greta,christiangrey.iwantfrancoat

myplaceinanhour.askmrs.lincoln...good.”he

putshisphoneaway.“he’scomingatone.”

“christian...!”isplutter,exasperated.

“anastasia,leilaisobviouslysufferingapsychotic

break.idon’tknowifit’syouormeshe’safter,orwhat

lengthsshe’spreparedtogoto.we’llgotoyourplace,

pickupyourthings,andyoucanstaywithmeuntilwe’ve

trackedherdown.”

“whywouldiwanttodothat?”

“soicankeepyousafe.”

“but—”

heglaresatme.“youarecomingbacktomy

apartmentifiha一vetodragyoutherebyyourhair.”

igapeathim...thisisbeyondbelief.fiftyshadesin

glorioustechnicolor.

“ithinkyou’reoverreacting.”

“idon’t.wecancontinueourdiscussionbackatmy

place.come.”

ifoldmyarmsandglareathim.thishasgonetoofar.

“no,”istatestubbornly.iha一vetomakeastand.

“youcanwalkoricancarryyou.idon’tmindeither

way,anastasia.”

“youwouldn’tdare.”iscowlathim.surelyhe

wouldn’tmakeasceneonsecondavenue?

hehalfsmilesatme,butthesmiledoesn’treachhis

eyes.

“oh,baby,webothknowthatifyouthrowdownthe

gauntleti’llbeonlytoohappytopickitup.”

weglareateachother—andabruptlyhesweeps

down,claspsmeroundmythighs,andliftsme.beforei

knowit,iamoverhisshoulder.

“putmedown!”iscream.oh,itfeelsgoodtoscream.

hestartsstridingalongsecondavenue,ignoringme.

claspinghisarmfirmlyaroundmythighs,heswatsmy

behindwithhisfreehand.

“christian!”ishout.peoplearestaring.couldthisbe

anymorehumiliating?“i’llwalk!i’llwalk.”

heputsmedown,andbeforehe’sevenstoodupright,

istompoffinthedirectionofmyapartment,seething,

ignoringhim.ofcourse,he’sbymysideinmoments,buti

continuetoignorehim.whatamigoingtodo?iamso

angry,buti’mnotevensurewhatiamangryabout—

there’ssomuch.

asistalkbackhome,imakeamentallist:

1.shouldercarrying—unacceptableforanyoneover

theageofsix.

2.takingmetothesalonthatheownswithhisexlover—

howstupidcanhebe?

3.thesameplacehetookhissubmissives—same

stupidityatworkhere.

4.notevenrealizingthatthiswasabadidea—and

he’ssupposedtobeabrightguy.

5.ha一vingcrazyex-girlfriends.caniblamehimfor

that?iamsofurious;yes,ican.

6.knowingmybankaccountnumber—that’sjusttoo

stalkerybyhalf.

7.buyingsip—he’sgotmoremoneythansense.

8.insistingistaywithhim—thethreatfromleilamust

beworsethanhefeared...hedidn’tmention

thatyesterday.

ohno,realizationdawns.something’schanged.what

couldthatbe?ihalt,andchristianhaltswithme.“what’s

happened?”idemand.

heknitshisbrow.“whatdoyoumean?”

“withleila.”

“i’vetoldyou.”

“no,youha一ven’t.there’ssomethingelse.youdidn’t

insistthatigotoyourplaceyesterday.sowhat’s

happened?”

heshiftsuncomfortably.

“christian!tellme!”isnap.

“shemanagedtoob一tainaconcealedweaponspermit

yesterday.”

ohshit.igazeathim,blinking,andfeeltheblood

drainingfrommyfaceasiabsorbthisnews.imayfaint.

supposeshewantstokillhim?no.

“thatmeansshecanjustbuyagun,”iwhisper.

“ana,”hesays,hisvoicefullofconcern.heplaceshis

handsonmyshoulders,pullingmeclosetohim.“idon’t

thinkshe’lldoanythingstupid,but—ijustdon’twantto

takethatriskwithyou.”

“notme...whataboutyou?”iwhisper.

hefrownsdownatme,andiwrapmyarmsaround

himandhughimhard,myfaceagainsthischest.he

doesn’tseemtomind.

“let’sgetback,”hemurmurs,andhereachesdown

andkissesmyhair,andthat’sit.allmyfuryisgone,but

notforgotten.dissipatedunderthethreatofsomeharm

comingtochristian.thethoughtisunbearable.

solemnlyipackasmallcaseandplacemymac,the

blackberry,myipad,andcharlietangoinmybackpack.

“charlietango’scoming,too?”christianasks.

inodandhegivesmeasmall,indulgentsmile.

“ethanisbacktuesday,”imutter.

“ethan?”

“kate’sbrother.he’sstayinghereuntilhefindsa

placeinseattle.”

christiangazesatmeblankly,butinoticethe

frostinesscreepintohiseyes.

“well,it’sgoodthatyou’llbestayingwithme.give

himmoreroom,”hesaysquietly.

“idon’tknowthathe’sgotkeys.i’llneedtobeback

then.”

christiangazesatmeimpassivelybutsaysnothing.

“that’severything.”

hegrabsmycase,andweheadoutthedoor.aswe

walkaroundtothebackofthebuildingtotheparkinglot,

i’mawarethatiamlookingovermyshoulder.idon’t

knowifmyparanoiahastakenoverorifsomeonereallyis

watchingme.christianopensthepassengerdoorofthe

audiandlooksatmeexpectantly.

“areyougettingin?”heasks.

“ithoughtiwasdriving.”

“no.i’lldrive.”

“somethingwrongwithmydriving?don’ttellmeyou

knowwhatiscoredonmydrivingtest...iwouldn’tbe

surprisedwithyourstalkingtendencies.”maybeheknows

thatijustscrapedthroughthewrittentest.

“getinthecar,anastasia,”hesnapsangrily.

“okay.”ihastilyclimbin.honestly,chill,willyou?

perhapshehasthesameuneasyfeeling,too.some

darksentinelwatchingus—well,apalebrunettewith

browneyeswhohasanuncannyresemblancetoyours

trulyandquitepossiblyaconcealedfirearm.

christiansetsoffintothetraffic.

“wereallyoursubmissivesbrunettes?”

hefrownsandglancesatmequickly.“yes,”he

mutters.hesoundsuncertain,andiimaginehimthinking,

where’sshegoingwiththis?

“ijustwondered.”

“itoldyou.ipreferbrunettes.”

“mrs.robinsonisn’tabrunette.”

“that’sprobablywhy,”hemutters.“sheputmeoff

blondesforever.”

“you’rekidding,”igasp.

“yes.i’mkidding,”hereplies,exasperated.

istareimpassivelyoutthewindow,spyingbrunettes

everywhere,noneofthemleila,though.

so,heonlylikesbrunettes.iwonderwhy?didmrs.

extraordinarily-glamorous-in-spite-of-being-old

robinsonreallyputhimoffblondes?ishakemyhead—

christianmindfuckgrey.

“tellmeabouther.”

“whatdoyouwanttoknow?”christian’sbrow

furrows,andhistoneofvoicetriestowarnmeoff.

“tellmeaboutyourbusinessarrangement.”

hevisiblyrelaxes,happytotalkaboutwork.“iama

silentpartner.i’mnotparticularlyinterestedinthebeauty

business,butshe’sbuiltitintoasuccessfulventure.ijust

investedandhelpedgetherstarted.”

“why?”

“iowedittoher.”

“oh?”

“whenidroppedoutofharvard,shelentmea

hundredgrandtostartmybusiness.”

holyfuck...she’srich,too.

“youdroppedout?”

“itwasn’tmything.ididtwoyears.unfortunately,my

parentswerenotsounderstanding.”

ifrown.mr.greyanddr.gracetrevelyan

disapproving,ican’tpictureit.

“youdon’tseemtoha一vedonetoobadlydroppingout.

whatwasyourmajor?”

“politicsandeconomics.”

hmm...figures.

“soshe’srich?”imurmur.

“shewasaboredtrophywife,anastasia.herhusband

waswealthy—bigintimber.”hesmirks.“hewouldn’tlet

herwork.youknow,hewascontrolling.somemenare

likethat.”hegivesmeaquicksidewaysgrin.

“really?acontrollingman,surelyamythical

creature?”idon’tthinkicansqueezeanymoresarcasm

intomyresponse.

christian’sgringetsbigger.

“shelentyouherhusband’smoney?”

henodsandasmallmischievoussmileappearsonhis

lips.

“that’sterrible.”

“hegothisownback,”christiansaysdarklyashe

pullsintotheundergroundgarageatescala.

oh?

“how?”

christianshakeshisheadasifrecallingaparticularly

sourmemoryandparksbesidetheaudiquattrosuv.

“come—francowillbehereshortly.”

intheelevatorchristianpeersdownatme.“stillmadat

me?”heasksmatter-of-factly.

“very.”

henods.“okay,”hesays,andstaresstraightahead.

tayloriswaitingforuswhenwearriveinthefoyer.

howdoeshealwaysknow?hetakesmycase.

“haswelchbeenintouch?”christianasks.

“yes,sir.”

“and?”

“everything’sarranged.”

“excellent.how’syourdaughter?”

“she’sfine,thankyou,sir.”

“good.weha一veahairdresserarrivingatone—

francodeluca.”

“misssteele,”taylornodsatme.

“hi,taylor.youha一veadaughter?”

“yesma’am.”

“howoldisshe?”

“she’sseven.”

christiangazesatmeimpatiently.

“sheliveswithhermother,”taylorclarifies.

“oh,isee.”

taylorsmilesatme.thisisunexpected.taylor’sa

father?ifollowchristianintothegreatroom,intriguedby

thisinformation.

iglancearound.iha一ven’tbeenheresinceiwalked

out.

“areyouhungry?”

ishakemyhead.christiangazesatmeforabeatand

decidesnottoargue.

“iha一vetomakeafewcalls.makeyourselfathome.”

“okay.”

christiandisappearsintohisstudy,lea一vingmestanding

inthehugeartgalleryhecallshomeandwonderingwhat

todowithmyself.

clothes!pickingupmybackpack,iwanderupstairs

tomybedroomandcheckoutthewalk-incloset.it’sstill

fullofclothes—allbrandnewwithpricetagsstillattached.

threelongeveningdresses,threecocktaildresses,and

threemoreforeverydaywear.allthismustha一vecosta

fortune.

icheckthetagononeoftheeveningdresses:$2,998.

holyfuck.isinktothefloor.

thisisn’tme.iputmyheadinmyhandsandtryto

processthelastfewhours.it’sexhausting.why,ohwhy

ha一veifallenforsomeonewhoisplaincrazy—beautiful,

sexyasfuck,richerthancroesus,andcrazywithacapital

ifishmyblackberryoutofmybackpackandcallmy

mom.

“ana,honey!it’sbeensolong.howareyou,

darling?”

“oh,youknow...”

“what’swrong?stillnotworkeditoutwith

christian?”

“mom,it’scomplicated.ithinkhe’snuts.that’sthe

problem.”

“tellmeaboutit.men,there’sjustnoreadingthem

sometimes.bob’swonderingifourmovetogeorgiawas

agoodone.”

“what?”

“yeah,he’stalkingaboutgoingbacktovegas.”

oh,someoneelsehasproblems.i’mnottheonlyone.

christianappearsinthedoorway.“thereyouare.i

thoughtyou’drunoff.”hisreliefisobvious.

iholdmyhanduptoindicatethati’monthephone.

“sorry,mom,iha一vetogo.i’llcallagainsoon.”

“okay,honey—takecareofyourself.loveyou!”

“loveyou,too,mom.”

ihangupandgazeatfifty.hefrowns,looking

strangelyawkward.

“whyareyouhidinginhere?”heasks.

“i’mnothiding.i’mdespairing.”

“despairing?”

“ofallthis,christian.”iwa一vemyhandinthegeneral

directionoftheclothes.

“canicomein?”

“it’syourcloset.”

hefrownsagainandsitsdown,cross-legged,facing

me.

“they’rejustclothes.ifyoudon’tlikethemi’llsend

themback.”

“you’realottotakeon,youknow?”

heblinksatmeandscratcheshischin...hisstubbly

chin.myfingersitchtotouchhim.

“iknow.i’mtrying,”hemurmurs.

“you’reverytrying.”

“asareyou,misssteele.”

“whyareyoudoingthis?”

hiseyeswidenandhiswarylookreturns.“youknow

why.”

“no,idon’t.”

herunsahandthroughhishair.“youareone

frustratingfemale.”

“youcouldha一veanicebrunettesubmissive.one

who’dsay,‘howhigh?’everytimeyousaidjump,

providedofcourseshehadpermissiontospeak.sowhy

me,christian?ijustdon’tgetit.”

hegazesatmeforamoment,andiha一venoideawhat

he’sthinking.

“youmakemelookattheworlddifferently,anastasia.

youdon’twantmeformymoney.yougiveme...

hope,”hesayssoftly.

what?mr.crypticisback.“hopeofwhat?”

heshrugs.“more.”hisvoiceislowandquiet.“and

you’reright.iamusedtowomendoingexactlywhatisay,

whenisay,doingexactlywhatiwant.itgetsoldquickly.

there’ssomethingaboutyou,anastasia,thatcallstome

onsomedeeplevelidon’tunderstand.it’sasiren’scall.i

can’tresistyou,andidon’twanttoloseyou.”hereaches

forwardandtakesmyhand.“don’trun,please—ha一vea

littlefaithinmeandalittlepatience.please.”

helookssovulnerable...jeez,it’sdisturbing.

leaninguponmyknees,ibendforwardandkisshim

gentlyonhislips.

“okay.faithandpatience,icanlivewiththat.”

“good.becausefranco’shere.”

francoissmall,dark,andgay.ilovehim.

“suchbeautifulhair!”hegusheswithanoutrageous,

probablyfakeitalianaccent.ibethe’sfrombaltimoreor

somewhere,buthisenthusiasmisinfectious.christian

leadsusbothintohisbathroom,exitshurriedly,and

reenterscarryingachairfromhisroom.

“i’lllea一veyoutwotoit,”hemutters.

“grazie,mr.grey.”francoturnstome.“bene,

anastasia,whatshallwedowithyou?”

christianissittingonhiscouch,plowingthroughwhatlook

likespreadsheets.soft,mellowclassicalmusicdrifts

throughthegreatroom.awomansingspassionately,

pouringhersoulintothesong.it’sbreathtaking.christian

glancesupandsmiles,distractingmefromthemusic.

“see!itellyouhelikeit,”francoenthuses.

“youlooklovely,ana,”christiansaysappreciatively.

“mywork‘ereisdone,”francoexclaims.

christianrisesandstrollstowardus.“thankyou,

franco.”

francoturns,graspsmeinanoverwhelmingbearhug,

andkissesbothmycheeks.“neverletanyoneelsebe

cuttingyourhair,bellissimaanastasia!”

ilaugh,slightlyembarrassedbyhisfamiliarity.christian

showshimtothefoyerdoorandreturnsmomentslater.

“i’mgladyoukeptitlong,”hesaysashewalks

towardme,hiseyesbright.hetakesastrandbetweenhis

fingers.

“sosoft,”hemurmurs,gazingdownatme.“areyou

stillmadatme?”

inodandhesmiles.

“whatpreciselyareyoumadatmeabout?”

irollmyeyes.“youwantthelist?”

“there’salist?”

“alongone.”

“canwediscussitinbed?”

“no.”ipoutathimchildishly.

“overlunch,then.i’mhungry,andnotjustforfood,”

hegivesmeasalacioussmile.

“iamnotgoingtoletyoudazzlemewithyour

sexpertise.”

hestiflesasmile.“whatisbotheringyouspecifically,

misssteele?spititout.”

okay.

“what’sbotheringme?well,there’syourgross

invasionofmyprivacy,thefactthatyoutookmetosome

placewhereyourex-mistressworksandyouusedtotake

allyourloverstoha一vetheirbitswaxed,youmanhandled

meinthestreetlikeiwassixyearsold—andtocapitall,

youletyourmrs.robinsontouchyou!”myvoicehas

risentoacrescendo.

heraiseshiseyebrows,andhisgoodhumorvanishes.

“that’squitealist.butjusttoclarifyoncemore—

she’snotmymrs.robinson.”

“shecantouchyou,”irepeat.

hepurseshislips.“sheknowswhere.”

“whatdoesthatmean?”

herunsbothhandsthroughhishairandcloseshiseyes

briefly,asifhe’sseekingdivineguidanceofsomekind.he

swallows.

“youandidon’tha一veanyrules.iha一veneverhada

relationshipwithoutrules,andineverknowwhereyou’re

goingtotouchme.itmakesmenervous.yourtouch

completely—”hestops,searchingforthewords.“itjust

meansmore...somuchmore”

more?hisanswer’scompletelyunexpected,throwing

me,andthere’sthatlittlewordwiththebigmeaning

hangingbetweenusagain.

mytouchmeans...more.holycow.howami

supposedtoresistwhenhesaysthisstuff?grayeyes

searchmine,watching,apprehensive.

tentativelyireachoutandapprehensionshiftsto

alarm.christianstepsbackandidropmyhand.

“hardlimit,”hewhispersurgently,apained,panicked

lookonhisface.

ican’thelpbutfeelacrushingdisappointment.“how

wouldyoufeelifyoucouldn’ttouchme?”

“devastatedanddeprived,”hesaysimmediately.

oh,myfiftyshades.shakingmyhead,iofferhima

small,reassuringsmileandherelaxes.

“you’llha一vetotellmeexactlywhythisisahardlimit,

oneday,please.”

“oneday,”hemurmursandseemstosnapoutofhis

vulnerabilityinananosecond.

howcanheswitchsoquickly?he’sthemost

capriciouspersoniknow.

“so,therestofyourlist.invadingyourprivacy.”his

mouthtwistsashecontemplatesthis.“becauseiknow

yourbankaccountnumber?”

“yes,that’soutrageous.”

“idobackgroundchecksonallmysubmissives.i’ll

showyou.”heturnsandheadsforhisstudy.

idutifullyfollowhim,dazed.fromalockedfiling

cabinet,hepullsamanilafolder.typedonthetab:

anastasiarosesteele.

holyfuckingshit.iglareathim.

heshrugsapologetically.“youcankeepit,”hesays

quietly.

“well,gee,thanks,”isnap.iflickthroughthe

contents.hehasacopyofmybirthcertificate,for

hea一ven’ssake,myhardlimits,thenda,thecontract

—jeez—mysocialsecuritynumber,resume,employment

records.

“soyouknewiworkedatclayton’s?”

“yes.”

“itwasn’tacoincidence.youdidn’tjustdropby?”

“no.”

idon’tknowwhethertobeangryorflattered.

“thisisfucked-up.youknowthat?”

“idon’tseeitthatway.whatido,iha一vetobe

careful.”

“butthisisprivate.”

“idon’tmisusetheinformation.anyonecangethold

ofitiftheyha一vehalfamindto,anastasia.toha一vecontrol

—ineedinformation.it’showi’vealwaysoperated.”he

gazesatme,hisexpressionguardedandunreadable.

“youdomisusetheinformation.youdeposited

twenty-fourthousanddollarsthatididn’twantintomy

account.”

hismouthpressesinahardline.“itoldyou.that’s

whattaylormanagedtogetforyourcar.unbelievable,i

know,butthereyougo.”

“buttheaudi...”

“anastasia,doyouha一veanyideahowmuchmoneyi

make?”

iflush,ofcoursenot.“whyshouldi?idon’tneedto

knowthebottomlineofyourbankaccount,christian.”

hiseyessoften.“iknow.that’soneofthethingsi

loveaboutyou.”

igazeathim,shocked.loveaboutme?

“anastasia,iearnroughlyonehundredthousand

dollarsanhour.”

mymouthdropsopen.thatisanobsceneamountof

money.

“twenty-fourthousanddollarsisnothing.thecar,the

tessbooks,theclothes,they’renothing.”hisvoiceissoft.

igazeathim.hereallyhasnoidea.extraordinary.

“ifyouwereme,howwouldyoufeelaboutallthis...

largessecomingyourway?”iask.

hestaresatmeblankly,andthereitis,hisproblemin

anutshell—empathyorthelackthereof.thesilence

stretchesbetweenus.

finally,heshrugs.“idon’tknow,”hesays,andhe

looksgenuinelybemused.

myheartswells.thisisit,thecruxofhisfiftyshades,

surely.hecan’tputhimselfinmyshoes.well,nowi

know.

“itdoesn’tfeelgreat.imean,you’reverygenerous,

butitmakesmeuncomfortable.iha一vetoldyouthis

enoughtimes.”

hesighs.“iwanttogiveyoutheworld,anastasia.”

“ijustwantyou,christian.notalltheadd-ons.”

“they’repartofthedeal.partofwhatiam.”

oh,thisisgoingnowhere.

“shallweeat?”iask.thistensionbetweenusis

draining.

hefrowns.“sure.”

“i’llcook.”

“good.otherwisethere’sfoodinthefridge.”

“mrs.jonesisoffontheweekends?soyoueatcold

cutsmostweekends?”

“no.”

“oh?”

hesighs.“mysubmissivescook,anastasia.”

“oh,ofcourse.”iflush.howcouldibesostupid?i

smilesweetlyathim.“whatwouldsirliketoeat?”

hesmirks.“whatevermadamcanfind,”hesays

darkly.

inspectingtheimpressivecontentsofthefridge,idecide

onspanishomelet.thereareevencoldpotatoes—

perfect.it’squickandeasy.christianisstillinhisstudy,

nodoub一tinvadingsomepoor,unsuspectingfool’sprivacy

andcompilinginformation.thethoughtisunpleasantand

lea一vesabittertasteinmymouth.mymindisreeling.he

reallyknowsnobounds.

ineedmusicifi’mgoingtocook,andi’mgoingto

cookunsubmissively!iwanderovertotheipoddock

besidethefireplaceandpickupchristian’sipod.ibet

therearemoreofleila’schoicesonhere,—idreadthe

veryidea.

whereisshe?iwonder.whatdoesshewant?