chaptertwenty-four

“muchasi’dliketokissyouallday,yourbreakfastisgettingcold,”

christianmurmursagainstmylips.hegazesdownatme,nowamused,

excepthiseyesaredarker,sensual.holycow,he’sswitchedagain.mymr.

mercurial.

“eat,”heorders,hisvoicesoft.iswallow,areactiontohissmolderinglook,

andcrawlbackintobed,a一voidingsnaggingmyiv

line.hepushesthetrayinfrontofme.theoatmealiscold,butthepancakes

underthecoverarefine—infact,they’remouthwatering.

“youknow,”imutterbetweenmouthfuls,“blipmightbeagirl.”

christianrunshishandthroughhishair.“twowomen,eh?”alarmflashes

acrosshisface,andhisdarklookvanishes.ohcrap.

“doyouha一veapreference?”

“preference?”

“boyorgirl.”

hefrowns.“healthywilldo,”hesaysquietlyclearlydisconcertedbythe

question.“eat,”hesnaps,andiknowhe’stryingtoa一voidthesubject.

“i’meating,i’meating...jeez,keepyourhairon,grey.”iwatchhim

carefully.thecornersofhiseyesarecrinkledwithworry.he’ssaidhe’lltry,

butiknowhe’sstillfreakedoutbythebaby.oh,christian,soami.hesits

downinthearmchairbesideme,pickinguptheseattletimes.

“youmadethepapersagain,mrs.grey.”hisistonebitter.

“again?”

“thehacksarejustrehashingyesterday’sstory,butitseemsfactually

accurate.youwanttoreadit?”

ishakemyhead.“readittome.i’meating.”

hesmirksandproceedstoreadthearticlealoud.it’sareportonjackand

elizabeth,depictingthemasamodern-daybonnieandclyde.itbriefly

coversmia’skidnap,myinvolvementinmia’srescue,andthe447|page

fiftyshadesfreed

factthatbothjackandiareinthesamehospital.howdoesthepressgetall

thisinformation?imustaskkate.christianfinishes.

“pleasereadsomethingelse.ilikelisteningtoyou.”

heobligesandreadsmeareportaboutaboomingbagelbusinessandthe

factthatboeinghashadtocancelthelaunchofsomeplane.christianfrowns

ashereads.butlisteningtohissoothingvoiceasieat,secureinthe

knowledgethatiamfine,miaissafeandmylittleblipissafe,ifeela

preciousmomentofpeaceinspiteofallthathashappenedoverthelastfew

days.

iunderstandthatchristianisscaredaboutthebaby,butidon’tunderstand

thedepthofhisfear.iresolvetotalktohimsomemoreaboutthis.seeifi

canputhismindatease.whatpuzzlesmeisthathehasn’tlackedfor

positiverolemodelsasparents.bothgraceandcarrickareexemplary

parents,orsotheyseem.maybeitwasthebitchtroll’sinterferencethat

damagedhimsobadly.i’dliketothinkso.butintruthithinkitgoesbackto

hisbirthmom,thoughi’msuremrs.robinsondidn’thelp.ihaltmythoughts

asinearlyrecallawhisperedconversation.damn!ithoversontheedgeof

mymemoryfromwheniwasunconscious.christiantalkingwithgrace.it

meltsawayintotheshadowsofmymind.oh,it’ssofrustrating.

iwonderifchristianwillevervolunteerthereasonhewenttoseeherorifi’ll

ha一vetopushhim.i’mabouttoaskwhenthere’saknockonthedoor.

detectiveclarkmakesanapologeticentryintotheroom.he’srighttobe

apologetic—myheartsinkswheniseehim.

“mr.grey,mrs.grey.amiinterrupting?”

“yes,”snapschristian.

clarkignoreshim.“gladtoseeyou’reawake,mrs.grey.ineedtoaskyoua

fewquestionsaboutthursdayafternoon.justroutine.isnowaconvenient

time?”

“sure,”imumble,butidonotwanttorelivethursday’sevents.

“mywifeshouldberesting.”christianbristles.

“i’llbebrief,mr.grey.anditmeansi’llbeoutofyourhairsoonerratherthan

later.”

christianstandsandoffersclarkhischair,thensitsdownbesidemeonthe

bedandtakesmyhand,squeezingitreassuringly.448|page

eljames

halfanhourlater,clarkisdone.i’velearnednothingnew,butiha一ve

recountedtheeventsofthursdaytohiminahalting,quietvoice,watching

christiangopaleandgrimaceatsomeparts.

“iwishyou’daimedhigher,”christianmutters.

“mightha一vedonewomankindaserviceifmrs.greyhad.”clarkagrees.

what?

“thankyou,mrs.grey.that’sallfornow.”

“youwon’tlethimoutagain,willyou?”

“idon’tthinkhe’llmakebailthistime,ma’am.”

“doweknowwhopostedhisbail?”christianasks.

“nosir.itwasanonymous.”

christianfrowns,butithinkhehashissuspicions.clarkrisestolea一vejustas

dr.singhandtwointernsentertheroom.

afterathoroughexamination,dr.singhdeclaresmefittogohome.

christiansagswithrelief.

“mrs.grey,you’llha一vetowatchforworseningheadachesandblurryvision.if

thatoccursyoumustreturntothehospitalimmediately.”

inod,tryingtocontainmydelightatgoinghome.

asdr.singhlea一ves,christianasksherforaquickwordinthecorridor.he

keepsthedoorajarasheasksheraquestion.shesmiles.

“yes,mr.grey,that’sfine.”

hegrinsandreturnstotheroomahappierman.

“whatwasallthatabout?”

“sex,”hesays,flashingawickedgrin.

oh.iblush.“and?”

“you’regoodtogo.”hesmirks.

oh,christian!

“iha一veaheadache.”ismirkrightback.

“iknow.you’llbeofflimitsforawhile.iwasjustchecking.”

offlimits?ifrownatthemomentarystabofdisappointmentifeel.i’mnotsure

iwanttobeofflimits.

449|page

fiftyshadesfreed

nursenorajoinsustoremovemyiv.sheglaresatchristian.ithinkshe’s

oneofthefewwomeni’vemetwhoisoblivioustohischarms.ithankher

whenshelea一veswithmyivstand.

“shallitakeyouhome?”christianasks.

“i’dliketoseerayfirst.”

“sure.”

“doesheknowaboutthebaby?”

“ithoughtyou’dwanttobetheonetotellhim.iha一ven’ttoldyourmomeither.”

“thankyou.”ismile,gratefulthathehasn’tstolenmythunder.

“mymomknows,”christianadds.“shesawyourchart.itoldmydadbutno

oneelse.momsaidcouplesnormallywaitfortwelveweeksorso...tobe

sure.”heshrugs.

“i’mnotsurei’mreadytotellray.”

“ishouldwarnyou,he’smadashell.saidishouldspankyou.”

what?christianlaughsatmyappalledexpression.“itoldhimi’dbeonlytoo

willingtooblige.”

“youdidn’t!”igasp,thoughamemoryofawhisperedconversationwhilei

wasunconscioustantalizesme.yes,raywasherewhileiwaslaidout...

hewinksatme.“here,taylorbroughtyousomecleanclothes.i’llhelpyou

dress.”

aschristianpredicted,rayisfurious.idon’teverrememberhimbeingthis

mad.christianhaswiselydecidedtolea一veusalonetogether.forsucha

taciturnman,rayfillshishospitalroomwithhisinvective,beratingmeformy

irresponsiblebeha一vior.iamtwelveyearsoldagain.oh,dad,pleasecalm

down.yourbloodpressureisnotuptothis.

“andi’vehadtodealwithyourmother,”hegrumbles,wa一vingbothofhis

handsinexasperation.

“dad,i’msorry.”

“andpoorchristian!i’veneverseenhimlikethat.he’saged.we’veboth

agedyearsoverthelastcoupleofdays.”

“ray,i’msorry.”

“yourmotheriswaitingforyourcall,”hesaysinamoremeasuredtone.

450|page

eljames

ileanoverandkisshischeek,andfinallyherelentsfromhistirade.

“i’llcallher.ireallyamsorry.butthankyouforteachingmetoshoot.”

foramoment,heregardsmewithill-concealedpaternalpride.“i’mgladyou

canshootstraight,”hesays,hisvoicegruff.“nowgoonhomeandgetsome

rest.”

“youlookwell,dad.”itrytochangethesubject.

“youlookpale.”hisfearissuddenlyevident.hislookmirrorschristian’s

fromlastnight,andigrasphishand.

“i’mokay.ipromiseiwon’tdoanythinglikethatagain.”

hesqueezesmyhandandpullsmeintoahug.“ifanythinghappenedtoyou,”

hewhispers,hisvoicehoarseandlow.tearsprickmyeyes.iamnotusedto

displaysofemotionfrommystepfather.

“dad,i’mgood.nothingthatahotshowerwon’tcure.”

welea一vethroughtherearexitofthehospitaltoa一voidthepaparazzigathered

attheentrance.taylorleadsustothewaitinginthesuv.christianisquiet

assawyerdrivesushome.ia一voidsawyer’sgazeintherearviewmirror,

embarrassedthatthelasttimeisawhimwasatthebankwheniga一vehim

theslip.icallmymom,whosobsdownthephone.ittakesmostofthejourney

hometocalmherdown,butisucceedbypromisingthatwe’llvisitsoon.

throughoutmyconversationwithher,christianholdsmyhand,brushinghis

thumbacrossmyknuckles.he’snervous...something’shappened.

“what’swrong?”iaskwheni’mfinallyfreefrommymother.

“welchwantstoseeme.”

“welch?why?”

“he’sfoundsomethingoutaboutthatfuckerhyde.”christian’slipcurlsintoa

snarl,andafrissonoffearpassesthroughme.“hedidn’twanttotellmeon

thephone.”

“oh.”

“he’scomingherethisafternoonfromdetroit.”

“youthinkhe’sfoundaconnection?”

christiannods.

“whatdoyouthinkitis?”

“iha一venoidea.”christian’sbrowfurrows,perplexed.451|page

fiftyshadesfreed

taylorpullsintothegarageatescalaandstopsbytheelevatortoletusout

beforeheparks.inthegarage,wecana一voidtheattentionofthewaiting

photographers.christianushersmeoutofthecar.keepinghisarmaround

mywaist,heleadsmetothewaitingelevator.

“gladtobehome?”heasks.

“yes,”iwhisper.butasistandinthefamiliarsurroundingsoftheelevator,the

enormityofwhati’vebeenthroughcrashesoverme,andistarttoshake.

“hey—”christianwrapshisarmsaroundmeandpullsmeclose.

“you’rehome.you’resafe,”hesays,kissingmyhair.

“oh,christian.”adamididn’tevenknowwasinplacebursts,andistartto

sob.

“hushnow,”christianwhispers,cradlingmyheadagainsthischest.butit’s

toolate.iweep,overwhelmed,intohist-shirt,recallingjack’sviciousattack

—“that’sforsip,youfuckingbitch!”—tellingchristianiwaslea一ving—

“you’relea一vingme?”—andmyfear,mygutwrenchingfearformia,for

myself,andforblip.whenthedoorsoftheelevatorslideopen,christian

picksmeuplikeachildandcarriesmeintothefoyer.iwrapmyarmsaround

hisneckandclingtohim,keeningquietly.

hecarriesmethroughtoourbathroomandgentlysettlesmeonthechair.

“bath?”heasks.

ishakemyhead.no...no...notlikeleila.

ishakemyhead.no...no...notlikeleila.

“shower?”hisvoiceischokedwithconcern.

throughmytears,inod.iwanttowashawaythegrimeofthelastfewdays,

washawaythememoryofjack’sattack.“yougolddiggingwhore.”isobinto

myhandsasthesoundofthewatercascadingfromtheshowerechoesoff

thewalls.

“hey,”christiancroons.kneelinginfrontofme,hepullsmyhandsawayfrom

mytear-stainedcheeksandcupsmyfaceinhishands.igazeathim,

blinkingawaymytears.

“you’resafe.youbothare,”hewhispers.

blipandme.myeyesbrimwithtearsagain.

“stop,now.ican’tbearitwhenyoucry.”hisvoiceishoarse.histhumbs

wipemycheeks,butmytearsstillflow.

“i’msorry,christian.justsorryforeverything.formakingyou452|page

eljames

worry,forriskingeverything—forthethingsisaid.”

“hush,baby,please.”hekissesmyforehead.“i’msorry.ittakestwoto

tango,ana.”hegivesmeacrookedsmile.“well,that’swhatmymom

alwayssays.isaidthingsanddidthingsi’mnotproudof.”

hisgrayeyesarebleakbutpenitent.“let’sgetyouundressed.”hisvoiceis

soft.iwipemynosewiththebackofmyhand,andhekissesmyforehead

oncemore.

brisklyhestripsme,takingparticularcareashepullsmyt-shirtovermy

head.butmyheadisnottoosore.leadingmetotheshower,hepeelsoff

hisownclothinginrecordtimebeforesteppingintothewelcomehotwater

withme.hepullsmeintohisarmsandholdsme,holdsmeforthelongest

time,asthewatergushesoverus,soothingusboth.

heletsmecryintohischest.occasionallyhekissesmyhair,buthedoesn’t

letgo,hejustrocksmegentlybeneaththewarmwater.tofeelhisskin

againstmine,hischesthairagainstmycheek...thismanilove,thisselfdoub一ting,

beautifulman,themanicouldha一velostthroughmyown

recklessness.ifeelemptyandachingatthethoughtbutgratefulthathe’s

here,stillhere—despiteeverythingthat’shappened.

hehassomeexplainingtodo,butrightnowiwanttorevelinthefeelofhis

comforting,protectivearmsaroundme.andinthatmomentitoccurstome;

anyexplanationsonhispartha一vetocomefromhim.ican’tforcehim—he’s

gottowanttotellme.iwon’tbecastasthenaggingwife,constantlytryingto

wheedleinformationoutofherhusband.it’sjustexhausting.iknowheloves

me.iknowhelovesmemorethanhe’severlovedanyone,andfornow,

that’senough.therealizationisliberating.istopcryingandstepback.

“better?”heasks.

inod.

“good.letmelookatyou,”hesays,andforamomentidon’tknowwhathe

means.buthetakesmyhandandexaminesthearmifellonwhenjackhit

me.therearebruisesonmyshoulderandscrapesatmyelbowandwrist.

hekisseseachofthem.hegrabsawashclothandshowergelfromtherack,

andthesweetfamiliarscentofjasminefillsmynostrils.

“turnaround.”gently,heproceedstowashmyinjuredarm,then453|pag

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fiftyshadesfreed

myneck,myshoulders,myback,andmyotherarm.heturnsmesideways,

andtraceshislongfingersdownmyside.iwinceastheyskateoverthe

largebruiseatmyhip.christian’seyeshardenandhislipsthin.hisangeris

palpableashewhistlesthroughhisteeth.

“itdoesn’thurt,”imurmurtoreassurehim.

blazinggrayeyesmeetmine.“iwanttokillhim,”hewhispers.“inearlydid,”

headdscryptically.ifrownthenshiverathisbleakexpression.hesquirts

moreshowergelonthewashclothandwithtender,achinggentleness,he

washesmysideandmybehind,then,kneeling,movesdownmylegs.he

pausestoexaminemybruisedknee.helipsbrushoverthebruisebeforehe

returnstowashingmylegsandmyfeet.reachingdown,icaresshishead,

runningmyfingersthroughhiswethair.hestands,andhisfingerstracethe

outlineofthebruiseonmyribswherejackkickedme.

“oh,baby,”hegroans,hisvoicefilledwithanguish,hiseyesdarkwithfury.

“i’mokay.”ipullhisheaddowntomineandkisshislips.he’shesitantto

reciprocate,butasmytonguemeetshis,hisbodystirsagainstme.

“no,”hewhispersagainstmylips,andhepullsback.“let’sgetyouclean.”

hisfaceisserious.damn...hemeansit.ipout,andtheatmosphere

betweenuslightensinaninstant.hegrinsandkissesmebriefly.

“clean,”heemphasizes.“notdirty.”

“ilikedirty.”

“me,too,mrs.grey.butnotnow,nothere.”hegrabstheshampoo,and

beforeicanpersuadehimotherwise,he’swashingmyhair.

iloveclean,too.ifeelrefreshedandreinvigorated,andidon’tknowifit’s

fromtheshower,thecrying,ormydecisiontostophasslingchristianabout

everything.hewrapsmeinalargetowelanddrapesonearoundhiships

whileigingerlydrymyhair.myheadaches,butit’sadullpersistentpainthat

ismorethanmanageable.iha一vesomepainkillersfromdr.singh,butshe’s

askedmenottousethemunlessiha一veto.

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eljames

asidrymyhair,ithinkaboutelizabeth.

“istilldon’tunderstandwhyelizabethwasinvolvedwithjack.”

“ido,”christianmuttersdarkly.

thisisnews.ifrownupathim,buti’mdistracted.he’sdryinghishairwitha

towel,hischestandshouldersstillwetwithbeadsofwaterthatglintbeneath

thehalogens.hepausesandsmirks.

“enjoyingtheview?”

“howdoyouknow?”iask,tryingtoignorethati’vebeencaughtstaringatmy

ownhusband.

“thatyou’reenjoyingtheview?”heteases.

“no,”iscold.“aboutelizabeth.”

“detectiveclarkhintedatit.”

igivehimmytell-me-moreexpression,andanothernaggingmemoryfrom

wheniwasunconsciousresurfaces.clarkwasinmyroom.iwishicould

rememberwhathesaid.

“hydehadvideos.videosofallofthem.onseveralusbflashdrives.”

what?ifrown,myskintighteningacrossmyforehead.

“videosofhimfuckingher.fuckingallhispas.”

oh!

“exactly.blackmailmaterial.helikesitrough.”christianfrowns,andiwatch

confusionfollowedbydisgustcrosshisface.hepalesashisdisgustturnsto

self-loathing.ofcourse—christianlikesitrough,too.

“don’t.”thewordisoutofmymouthbeforeicanstopit.hisfrowndeepens.

“don’twhat?”hestillsandregardsmewithapprehension.

“don’tthinkyou’reanythinglikehim.”

christian’seyesharden,buthesaysnothing,confirmingthat’sexactlywhat

hewasthinking.

“you’renot.”myvoiceisadamant.

“we’recutfromthesamecloth.”

“no,you’renot,”isnap,thoughiunderstandwhyhemightthinkso.“hisdad

diedinabrawlinabar.hismotherdrankherselfintooblivion.hewasin

andoutoffosterhomesasakid,inandoutoftrouble,too—mainly

boostingcars.spenttimeinjuvie.”irecalltheinformationchristianrevealed

ontheplanetoaspen.455|page

fiftyshadesfreed

“youbothha一vetroubledpasts,andyouwerebothbornindetroit.that’sit,

christian.”ifistmyhandsonmyhips.

“ana,yourfaithinmeistouching,inspiteofthelastfewdays.we’llknow

morewhenwelchishere.”he’sdismissingthesubject.

“christian—”

hestopsmewithakiss.“enough,”hebreathes,andirememberthe

promiseimadetomyselfnottohoundhimforinformation.

“anddon’tpout,”headds.“come.letmedryyourhair.”iknowthesubjectis

closed

afterdressinginsweatpantsandat-shirt,isitbetweenchristian’slegsas

hedriesmyhair.

“sodidclarktellyouanythingelsewhileiwasunconscious?”

“notthatirecall.”

“iheardafewofyourconversations.”

thehairbrushstillsinmyhair.

“didyou?”heasks,histonenonchalant.

“yes.mydad,yourdad,detectiveclark...yourmom.”

“andkate?”

“katewasthere?”

“briefly,yes.she’smadatyou,too.”

iturninhislap.“stopwiththeeveryoneismadatanacrap,okay?”

“justtellingyouthetruth,”christiansays,bemusedbymyoutburst.

“yes,itwasreckless,butyouknow,yoursisterwasindanger.”

hisfacefalls.“yes.shewas.”switchingoffthehairdryer,heputsitdownon

thebedbesidehim.hegraspsmychin.

“thankyou,”hesays,surprisingme.“butnomorerecklessness.because

nexttime,iwillspankthelivingshitoutofyou.”

igasp.

“youwouldn’t!”

“iwould.”he’sserious.holycow.deadlyserious.“iha一veyourstepfather’s

permission.”hesmirks.he’steasingme!orishe?ilaunchmyselfathim,

andhetwistssothatifallontothebedandintohisarms.asiland,painfrom