I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the saga continues…
Chapter 33—Family is Everything
“You’ve been able to rest your eye for about thirty-six hours, Mr. Grey,” the doctor says after putting more eye drops in my eye that sting like hell. “I know it’s been a bit uncomfortable, but it was very beneficial for you. Your vision may be a little blurry and you might be a bit sensitive to light. Your vision should clear up on no more than a day or so. Wear sunglasses for the light sensitivity. I’m going to prescribe these eye drops for you—one is a steroid and one will dilate your pupils. Use them as directed and come back in a week. You should be good as new.”
“Should he be concerned about dizziness and passing out again, Doctor?” Butterfly asks. The obstetrician on call has already released her since her blood pressure has stabilized, but has scheduled a nurse to check on her for a few days at the Crossing to make sure that she doesn’t have any complications. Butterfly was more cooperative than I expected to have a nurse checking up on her. I think she’s just happy to be going home. Dr. Culley saw her yesterday and has cautioned her about strenuous activity of any kind, including overenthusiastic sex. Butterfly is in her last trimester carrying twins with possible complications on the horizon and she is now on restriction. We don’t have to abstain completely, but it’s recommended that we don’t do anything extreme… like we normally do. I don’t even know how to proceed with those instructions.
“He took several blows to the head,” the doctor responds to Butterfly, bringing my thoughts back to the situation at hand… me. “We’ve done a CT scan,” he says to me. “You’ve had a minor head injury, a tiny bit of swelling from your brain being rattled around in your head a bit, but seriously—nothing to be concerned about. I’ve seen this many times with fights or muggings. You can control the headaches with Tylenol or Motrin. If they become too severe or last more than a couple of days, you’re going to want to come back. Other than that, I’ve already processed your discharge and we’ll see you in a week.”
He gives me some of those horrible sunglasses that you wear after you’ve had cataracts removed. Oh, we will definitely be getting rid of these.
“Find me thum Raybanth,” I tell Jason as I examine the awful things. Butterfly giggles a bit and that makes me feel wonderful, so I put the horrible things on my face. They hurt over my swollen eye—not as swollen as it was before, but still swollen. I’ve had it under ice all day and if I strain, I can open it a little. The doctor advised that I don’t do that. Just let the swelling go down on its own with the ice, he says. I’ve already requested that Gail get some of that tea ready for me. I must have looked like shit because Butterfly says it didn’t do me any good that first day.
I’ve still avoided mirrors, even after they took the patch off my eye. I know that I’m a good-looking man, though I’ve never been particularly vain. I just don’t want to see it.
Miraculously, no one leaked to the press that we were hospitalized, so leaving Seattle Gen is fanfare-free. That makes me truly happy indeed. Being just released from the hospital, Butterfly missed her appointment with Ace. She calls to give him the heads up of what’s going on, promising to make her appointment next week, barring emergencies. We are greeted happily by security and staff when we arrive back at the Crossing. It’s already time for dinner and Butterfly indicates that she’s famished. That makes me happy, too. Gail “tsk’s” at me when she sees me and just shakes her head.
“Was it worth it?” she asks. I shrug.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. Butterfly throws a death glare at me. “Vuth it vurth how I feel ant my vife veink thick, no. Vuth it vurth veatink the hell outta that fucker ant never havink to thee him again? Yeth! Yeth, it vuth!”
“Okay, that’s enough talking for you,” Butterfly says slightly perturbed. “First of all, I’m having a hard time understanding you and second of all, I don’t like what I’m understanding.” Charles and Keri join us in the kitchen just as Butterfly finishes her sentence.
“Whoa!” Charles says as he wheels into the kitchen. His eyes are extremely wide and he stares at me in disbelief. “Fucking hell, man!” he exclaims. “I heard about it, but damn! I mean, damn!” Gail just shakes her head again and stirs something in a pot on the stove. I didn’t think she did anymore cooking since we have staff. I guess I was wrong. Charles wheels himself closer to me. “I hope the other guy looks worse.” I start typing into my phone and Jason’s phone buzzes.
“’He doesn’t,’” Jason says, reading my text. Charles is stunned.
“You let him beat your ass?” he asks appalled. I type again.
“’No, I won the fight. He just got more face shots. That was his M-O.’”
“I think who won is debatable,” Butterfly interjects. I look at her and frown questioning. “You both ended up having to go to the hospital. He just went immediately… and he didn’t have to stay.” I type again.
“’I won. Welch had to throw in his towel to keep me from pulverizing him. He was curled up in the ring like a goddamn baby.’”
“I so want to hear about this,” Butterfly says sarcastically. I decide that it’s time to drop this subject, but Charles adds one more thing.
“You need to talk to this guy, Ana. Somebody needs to set him straight. They could have killed each other,” he says.
“I already have,” she says. “I’ve told him that I never want to see him again and I’ve blocked him out of my phone. I told my father to let me know whenever he might be coming to Kirkland because if he’s there, I won’t be. He’s dead to me and I mean it. There’s absolutely nothing he can say to me after this ever again and I mean it.”
“What did he have to say to that?” Charles asks. Butterfly just shrugs.
“I don’t know. He tried to explain it or something, but I didn’t want to hear it. I said ‘fuck you’ or ‘go to hell’ or something just as colorful and blocked him out of my phone.” I’m typing and Butterfly’s phone buzzes with my message:
**When did this happen?**
“Night after last after I came to bed,” she says, impassively. “You were asleep. I was still awake.” She hands her phone to me. “He texted me. You can look at it.” I shake my head. I close my hand over her hand and her phone. Looking into her eyes, I try to relay that I would never snoop in her phone. I don’t have to. I trust her completely. I kiss her closed hand with my swollen lips and beg her to understand without me having to explain it with my lisp, because I sure as hell am not typing it out. She nods that she understands, but her face still shows displeasure as she drops her phone back into her pocket. I turn to the other people in the room and make obvious slicing motions with my hands.
“I think that’s the cue that this topic of conversation is over,” Jason says. I nod and put my arm around my wife. She leans into my chest and puts her arms around my waist. She looks weary. I guide her into the dining room and pull a seat out for her. She sits directly to my right where she always sits when I’m at the head of the table.
“I’m thorry,” I say, taking her tiny hands in mine. “I vuth thupit ant I thould’ve valked avay.” She shakes her head.
“Part of me understands,” she says. “It’s just… this whole thing was so ridiculous! I don’t want that man! I never will! I made that clear—I was not vague about it; I know I wasn’t. I just don’t understand the purpose of this exercise.” I have to type this one.
**Baby, there’s been wars and duels fought over women. You may feel that there was no purpose to it because you already made your decision, but he couldn’t hear you. I’m just an obstacle. If he kills me, he’ll never get near you, but if he can get past me, he may have a chance. That’s what he feels and that’s what this is about.**
She looks up at me and I gesture at my face. She drops her head.
“Why would he do this?” she says, fighting tears. “He’s a horrible man! I could never love someone like him.”
“You do love thumone like him,” I say slowly to control my lisp. She raises her eyes to me. “I vuld fighth him ant a huntret other men like him if they triet to take you avay from me. I vuld do muth more to them than he dit to me. I don’t exthuthe him, vut I do understant.”
She puts her finger over my lips and closes her eyes as a single tear falls down her face. She takes my face in her hands and gently presses her lips against mine. Her lips are so soft. I haven’t kissed her in two days and I just want to devour her—not a good idea right now with lips the size of Texas. She touches her forehead to mine.
“I love you, Christian,” she says, her voice thick with tears. “I’ll never leave you. I swear, I never will. Please don’t do this again. Fight like this to protect me. Fight like this to save me. Don’t fight like this to keep me. You have no fight with anyone to keep me. I belong to you. Only you. Do you understand?” I nod.
“I understant.” I would fight to the death for you, Butterfly, but I will remember that you belong to me and that some battles are already won and don’t need to be fought anymore. “You drive men crathy, you know that? That poor thucker can’t help himthelf.”
“Well, he just better get used to it,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Grey, and he better get over it. Now, stop talking. Gail!” A few moments later, Gail comes into the dining room. “My husband needs dinner and some of your teabags.”
“I’ve already got them ready. I’ll bring dinner right in.” She goes back to the kitchen and Jason, Charles, and Keri all come around the corner.
“Is the coast clear?” Jason says.
“Yes,” Butterfly answers. “But Mr. Grey is on mute for the rest of the night.”
Everyone takes a seat at the table while Gail serves creamy chicken soup with fresh milk bread—very soft. It’s utterly delicious and I’m only too happy that my bad decision doesn’t mean that I have to eat tasteless food until my lips heal. I can tell that they aren’t as bad as they were on day one because it’s not as hard for me to talk as it was before.
“I need to give you guys a head’s up,” Charles says over coffee after dinner. “I got a call from my brother today. He’s in town.” I look over at Jason, who raises an eyebrow at Charles.
“Is he?” Jason asks. “What brings him now and what took him so long?”
“He admits that he thought I was involved in a drunk driving incident,” Charles says. “I didn’t try to dispel it. Our relationship has been strained at best… horrendous at its worst.”
“So, again I ask, why now?”
“Apparently, one of my friends called him and told him that he was all wrong about me; that I had nothing to do with that accident and that I could have been killed while saving someone else’s life,” Charles reveals.
“That was weeks ago,” Jason says unmoved. “Is somebody sick, or was he just waiting for you to die?”
“I don’t know, man,” Charles responds. “He’s here and I’m not going to do to him what he did to me. I won’t shun him. I’ll hear him out.”
“You’re a better man than I am,” Jason says, sipping his coffee, “but let me know if you need me, okay?” Charles nods.
“Does he know about Keri?” Butterfly asks while sipping ginger tea, a new favorite of hers. Charles reaches over and takes Keri’s hand. She rewards him with a loving smile.
“He knows that I have a girlfriend, but we didn’t get into detail. He’s supposed to be coming by tomorrow afternoon. He’ll meet her then if he shows up.”
“I wotty that his spitit will not be gud foh Chatlez,” Keri says. “I’ve hehd nutting gud about dis man. Even de phone coll sound rotten!”
“What do you mean it sounded rotten?” Butterfly asks. Keri shakes her head.
“He ask too many questions,” she says, “not like ‘how ah you doing’ or ‘how have you been,’ moh lik he tryn to find infohmation—like he want sumting.”
“So, you think he has other motives,” Butterfly presses. Keri nods.
“I jes don tink he comin’ foh Chatlez. I tink him comin’ foh sumting else.” I pull out my phone and text Jason.
**Keep your eye on this asshole while he’s here, just to be safe.**
Jason looks at me and nods.
“I can tell you anything a background check would tell you and save you the money,” Chuck says matter-of-factly, noticing the exchange between me and Jason. Jason looks at me and I nod.
“He didn’t ask me for a background check, but he did ask me to keep an eye on Joseph while he’s here.” Charles does that side-to-side nodding thing.
“Fair enough,” he replies. He shakes his head. “I don’t want you guys to think I was being a stubborn asshole about the meds,” he says, running his fingers through his short hair. “You’re about to meet one of the biggest reasons that I was afraid to take them. Family loves you hard, but they hate you harder. I don’t ask for sympathy. I take responsibility for my actions—I did a long time ago, but I drank a lot and at a very young age. It numbed me at first, and then it made me say and do some pretty heartless shit.
“I showed up drunk at his wedding and ruined the whole thing. I had a girlfriend at the time who basically ran away screaming. I wrecked my parents’ car and almost killed myself and that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the things I did. It was so bad that I had to go to inpatient rehab and alcohol detox. When I tell you that I hit rock bottom, I mean I hit rock bottom. I haven’t even taken an aspirin since I’ve been out of rehab.
“I called several people to apologize for my actions as part of the twelve step program. My brother wouldn’t hear it. I went through the long, rehearsed, sincere apology, and he just said, ‘Okay,’ and hung up the phone in my ear. My parents wouldn’t even talk to me. When I got out of rehab, there was no one there to pick me up and no home to go to. I walked straight out of the rehab center right into the recruiting center.
“I wrote home in boot camp—to Joseph and to my parents. I wanted them to see that I was doing something with myself. Joseph never responded. The letters to my parents all came back. The one time that I went back home on leave, their house was empty and Joseph wouldn’t see me. I don’t know if my parents are dead or alive… and I’m afraid to check.”
“Why?” Butterfly asks. He raises glassy eyes to her.
“Because if they’re dead, then no one thought I should know, and that’s a horrible thing. If they’re alive, I’ve tried to reach out to them several times. I haven’t spoken to them in more than ten years; I don’t even know how to find them… and that’s even worse.” He drops his head and takes a deep breath. Keri gently rubs his back as he tries to fight the intense emotion that’s about to overwhelm him.
“So, I had to focus on myself and being a better man,” he begins again, his voice cracking. “I realized that my family didn’t want anything else to do with me, so except for putting my brother down as next of kin if I die, I walked away and didn’t look back. I have a few people that I consider ‘family’ just outside of Belleville. They let me spend holidays with them, but we don’t keep in touch much throughout the year because we’re all busy with our lives.” He sighs heavily.
“I need you guys to understand that I haven’t introduced any foreign substances into my body since I left rehab. I’m a lucky guy—I’m physically fit with an amazing immune system and a high pain threshold. Even though I’ve been through two tours of duty and I have a stressful and potentially dangerous job, this is the first time that I’ve had any major accidents or illnesses that required hospitalization. I could hear what all of you were saying about the meds, I really could—my sponsor, the doctors, rehab, you guys—I could hear you all, but I just couldn’t get you to quite understand what I had been through, and I couldn’t take the chance. I lost everything once and I can’t go through that again.”
He drops his head and I can see the tears flowing freely now. Butterfly goes around the table and sits in the seat next to him.
“You have us now, Chuck,” she says, sweetly. He raises tearful eyes to her. “You saved my life. That means that I’m your responsibility now.”
I don’t know how I feel about that.
He takes in a shuddering breath and embraces Butterfly, crying freely on her shoulder. I know that he’s only told us a fraction of this story, so the entire tale must be quite harrowing and much more than one man can bear without letting it out sooner or later.
We’re getting ready to turn in for the night and I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in my shirt and jeans. Butterfly has to put those drops in my eye and they sting like hell, but I try to sit still and take my medicine like a big boy. It helps a lot when your nurse looks like mine does. The swelling on the other eye has gone down a bit and my lips aren’t so tender—still a bit swollen, but not as tender.
She’s standing between my legs, gently cleaning my face from where the eye drops leaked from my eye. The second medication doesn’t sting as much, but still manages to leak from my eye. She again lovingly cleans the medicine from my face, paying close attention to her task. I suddenly feel a possessiveness that I can’t control. Once she has cleaned my face, I catch her hand and force her to look at me. She pauses, her eyes questioning.
“You’re MY rethponthibility!” I say, holding her hand and looking into her eyes. She smiles softly and touches my cheek.
“I know, baby,” she says, sweetly, “but I’m his, too. There’s a level of responsibility that comes with saving someone’s life. You now have an attachment to that person… they’re your charge, and it doesn’t go away. He needs that right now more than ever. It’s the same attachment Jason has for you. I can almost guarantee you that’s the same attachment that he has with his ‘family’ just outside of Belleville. But Christian…” She puts her hands on both sides of my face. “… You’ll always come first.”
I feel warm inside when she says that. Her eyes never leave mine as she gently caresses my face.
“I haven’th looked at it,” I tell her. She frowns.
“Haven’t looked at what?”
“My fathe.” Her face falls. “I haven’th looked at it thince the fight.”
“You haven’t looked in a mirror since Wednesday??” she asks appalled. “Why?” I shrug.
“Lotth of reathonth,” I tell her. “I didn’th vant to thee the damage. I knew I woult juth get pithed all over again. I didn’th vant to think about vut you vere theein.” Her brow furrows and her frown deepens.
“Christian,” she says, her hands moving to caress my hair, “when I returned from Vashon Island black and blue and badly beaten, what did you see?” That’s a no brainer.
“I thaw you,” I reply, “the voman that I love.”
“And I see you,” she says softly while gently caressing my swollen cheek, “the man that I love. Brian wanted to change that. He wanted me to see a hideous creature and be repulsed by it. Well, he succeeded—but he’s the hideous creature that repulses me.” She outlines the swell of my cheek down to the swell of my jaw. “But, this… this is my lover, my life mate, my protector… the man that holds me every night until I fall asleep and comforts me when I’m sick or hurting. This is the father of my children, my whole heart and soul and Brian can’t stand it.”
Her fingers gently outline my swollen lips and I feel heat rising in me. Butterfly, please…
“He thought it was the face,” she continues. “It was never the face. Yes, it’s a pretty face, but it was never the face. It’s the whole package.” She kisses my lips gently. “The whole, beautiful package, and without the face, you will still be my lover, my life mate, my protector, and the man that I love.”
I feel like I’m going to burst. She fills me with so much love that I can hardly stand it sometimes. She kisses me again gently—softly, but the force of her emotion makes me shiver. She slowly begins to unbutton my shirt and I know that we’re finally getting ready for bed. She removes my cuff links, then pushes my shirt off my shoulders to the bed. I watch her walk, the movement and flow of every curve of her body mesmerizing me. She is truly poetry in motion. She places my cuff links on the night stand as I remove my hands from my shirt sleeves.
She walks back to me and begins to pull my T-shirt from my jeans. When she’s standing in front of me, she never moves her eyes from mine. As my shirt slides up my chest and over my head, I find that my body is getting warmer instead of cooler. Somehow, my swollen eye is not so swollen anymore and I can see her out of both eyes. There’s a haze around her, a glow like a halo all over her body. My eye must be more fucked up than I thought…
She stands upright in front of me and begins to undress, first pulling her shirt slowly over her head and then sensually sliding out of her yoga pants. She never takes her eyes off of mine. When she unhooks her bra and lets it dangle from her nipples—now standing at perfect attention—before it slides down her baby bump to the floor, I realize that she’s stripping for me! Greystone responds immediately, doubling in size in a nanosecond and fighting with fury to be released from my pants.
“Vutterfly…” I protested, concerned.
“Sssshh,” she silences me. “I know what I’m doing,” she whispers, her voice seductive, yet authoritative.
I sit silently mesmerized as she slides out of her panties, then rises before me, fully naked. My God in Heaven, she’s so beautiful!
Her delicate fingers undo my belt and pants. I raise my hips to allow her to remove my jeans and boxers. Greystone springs free with amazing force and is now thrumming in the open air and oozing precum in anticipation. I don’t want her to hurt herself. The doctor cautioned her against… oh shit, I don’t know what it was now. I’m so aroused that I can barely breathe, let alone think clearly.
Starting with the tops of my toes, she gently drags her fingertips up my feet, over my ankles, up my shins, over my knees, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. I’m nearly panting when she gets to my thighs. She passes over Greystone, causing him to weep a single tear, but jerk a bit when her fingers tease the creases of my thighs and my pelvic hairline. Oh my God, I’m going to hyperventilate!
She brushes the palms of her hands gently up my stomach, my torso, and my chest to the fronts of my shoulders before pushing me down on the bed. I’m doing my best to control my breathing, but she has worked me into a sensual frenzy and now, she’s straddling me—naked and glorious, that same glow surrounding her that I saw earlier. She looks ethereal, unreal, and she has a hungry, sultry look in her eye. I was afraid for her earlier, but now I’m a little concerned about what kind of condition I’m going to be in when this is all over.
Those same gentle fingers stroke down both arms from my biceps down to my hands. She examines them carefully, her eyes followings her fingers as they travel over my skin. She grabs both hands and brings them both to her lips, placing gentle, wet kisses on each of my fingertips.
Greystone expresses his approval.
Once she’s done, she places them on either side of my head, holding them down with her own. She leans in and trails her tongue over my lips from corner to corner, first the top lip, then the bottom. Greystone twitches between us and I raise my hips a little to get some friction from her skin. I hiss quietly when she sinks her teeth into my chin to get my attention. When I bring my eyes to hers, the look in her eyes tells me that she’s in charge. Immediately, I know not to move a muscle without being told.
Shit, that’s hot.
Fire slowly ignites in several parts of my body as her lips and tongue travel from my chin down my neck, caressing my shoulders before she releases my hands and places hers on the bed to support her weight. She moves down my body and feasts on the skin on my chest and nipples as she grinds her hips, rubbing her hot, wet core against my erection. I fist my hands to keep from grabbing her hips. She feels so good and I groan in my chest at the wonderful sensation. She purrs against my skin in response and continues her assault, grinding her hips against me and licking my skin.
Her mouth travels further down my chest and I’m both excited and dismayed when her hips move from my groin. Dismayed because that wonderful sensation has stopped; excited because knowing my veracious wife the way that I do, these soft lips and talented tongue that are now outlining the contours of my abs will soon be wrapped around my pounding and dancing dick.
Once her tongue has trekked through the roadmap that is my abdominal muscles, she travels further south, slowly tormenting my pubic hairline before dipping her tongue into the valley of the creases between my thighs. I’m huffing loudly now, unashamed of my oral panting sounds. I turn my hands around and grab a fistful of the sheets because I’m going to need all the strength and control I can muster once she locks on to my dick.
She pushes my thighs open tormenting one, then the other of those creases until I’m shivering with anticipation, only allowing her cheeks to brush against my shaft to move it out of her way. The first real contact after an eternity of teasing is my balls. Her tongue wraps around one testicle and gently sucks it into her mouth.
“Fuck!” I breathe, feeling the skin tighten as she rolls it around in her mouth with her tongue. She pays equal attention to the other testicle, licking and massaging the skin until Greystone is throbbing in the air. Not to rush the anticipation, her lips travel to the underside of my dick placing hot, wet licking and sucking kisses up the growing and pulsing vein that will deliver her prize later. She’s slow and meticulous, caressing the upper side gently with her hand while holding it steady so that her lips and tongue can taste and feel the hot, veiny, pulsing and sensitive underside.
She’s driving me fucking insane.
When she reaches the head, her tongue treks all the way around the rim, stopping only momentarily at the frenulum since she knows how sensitive it is. I know what’s coming next. I only have a moment to steel myself before the assault.
She kisses the head gently, like every other caress. Then again, this time open-mouthed, sucking just a bit of the skin inside. A third time brings her lips nearly to the rim again, where her tongue now plays fiendishly with my frenulum causing my thighs to tremble and my chest to tighten from the pleasure and trying not to grind my hips. A fourth pass brings a more forceful suckling of the entire head and that infernal wet sound her mouth makes when she’s devouring me, coupled with a gentle hum that sends vibrations up my back.
I squirm involuntarily, turning my head to the side and squeezing my eyes shut, panting passionately. When she gently releases my head, I realize that’s not going to be the most intense assault. I try to prepare myself. I breathe in and grab onto those sheets and…
I don’t feel her lips on my head. Her whole mouth opens and gobbles half of my dick. I feel the walls of her mouth and her tongue on every centimeter of skin of the portion of my shaft inside her mouth. She locks and pulls with force, stopping at the rim and suckling powerfully on the head.
“Mmmmm!” I grunt deep and loud in my chest. No matter how I prepared myself, I still wasn’t ready. A slow, tight drop all the way down my dick has me grunting, growling, and panting loudly. The fact that I can’t move my hips means that I have no control over the stroke, the pressure, the friction, or the pleasure. I have to lie still and take it—every lick, every suck, every powerful slurp. It’s ecstasy and torture at the same time. I dare not watch her or I’ll explode immediately. Fuck, I can’t stroke into her mouth. God, this feels so good!
She torments me for several minutes, first bobbing her head relentlessly on my erection fucking me with her mouth, then teasing every inch of the skin of my dick with licks and sucking kisses… enough to keep me in a blazing aroused inferno, but not enough to come. I’m flexing every muscle in my body trying not to fuck her mouth and she’s loving it. When her hands are not holding my dick so that her mouth and tongue can get a better angle, her fingertips gently tease and tickle rock hard quads and calves.
Her torment subsides when that hot mouth sucks hard on the head of my dick, then releases it with a “pop.” Greystone is pointing straight due north, ripe and ready for action and I’m taking in large gasps of air, holding them so my brain can get some oxygen, then letting them out.
“Mmmmmm,” she purrs as she gently caresses my dick with her hand, interrupting my breathing pattern. “He’s so pretty.” She softly strokes it up and down, just to keep the blood flowing on the surface of the skin. “It looks so good, baby,” she coaxes as her lips wrap gently around the head once more and she moans her approval. God, I’m gonna die.
I feel her stand, still holding my dick, and I try the breathing thing once again.
“Remember,” she says, and I open my eyes and raise my head to gaze on her. Fuck, she’s a goddamn goddess! “Let me do this.” I nod helplessly and watch as she crawls on top of me, straddling me again and still holding my dick. I take in a breath and hold it, still clinging mindlessly to the sheet. She rubs the head between her lips, first at her core, then spreading her arousal up and around her clit.
“Aah!” Her short, primal cry sends shocks through me and the feel of her wetness and clit on the head of my cock makes me shiver and hiss through clenched teeth. She does that two more times, driving me out of my fucking mind before she guides the head to her core. She pushes me in only fractionally, just to the rim of the head. I growl loudly. Fucking hell, she feels good.
“Yes, baby,” she coaches gently. “Stay still. Feel it.” Her voice is a forceful whisper that causes my body to stiffen and listen, and Greystone to stiffen even more. My God, this delicious affliction…
She pushes herself down onto me, around me, very slowly, and each movement makes me feel like I’m going to explode. This is not the usual stamina exercise for me. Normally, I’m moving my hips, controlling the rhythm and friction on my dick. Normally, I have a nipple in my mouth or in my hand, a clit under my finger, two fingers in an ass or a pussy—something to help distract me from the heavenly feeling in my cock. This time, nothing… nothing but this little nymph tormenting my nether regions and the command to keep still and take it.
I have to go way back and remember my endurance training as she starts to grind. Oh, God. Oh, God, help me. She steadies herself with her hands on my chest and rides ever so slowly. Every inch of me feels every inch of her and believe me, she’s taking every inch of me! I feel her clit slide all the way from the base of me to the head of me and back again when she drops, so slowly that I have no idea how her muscles are keeping this slow, delicious, tormenting pace… slower than I’ve ever moved and more intense than I’ve ever fucked. There’s no set stroke, no determined direction. The first one might be up and down while the next stroke might pull to the right on the upstroke and grind in a circle on the downstroke. It’s totally random… and completely mind-blowing.
Again, I have to remember the “endurance” training I had and not move my hips during this magnificent torment. She’s slides softly, then powerfully up and down my shaft. I don’t know how she does it, but while the downstroke is warm, soft, and wet, the upstroke is tight and hard, promising to drain every drop from me each time she pulls. I move my head from side to side on the bed, barely able to withstand the force with which she’s loving me.
“You feel it, don’t you, Baby?” she coaxes. “Feel me wrap around you and stroke you, like this!” Her pussy does that powerful pull and I groan loudly, trying to fight back this orgasm. Her insides are fire and her muscles are tormenting me masterfully. I can barely stand it… and I can’t move my hips.
“Only you, Baby… only for you…” On the last “you,” she does that coaxing pull followed by a circular grinding of her hips over the head and back down the shaft and I almost lose the fight. I feel my nails digging into my palms as I fight the intense tightening in my groin. So good… so fucking good…
“Oooooo,” she coos, “I feel you getting harder, Baby,” she breathes, her voice oozing with arousal. “I guess I better hurry.”
Do I want her to hurry? I don’t know. I’m aching for release, but the torment feels so good. Release means it will be all over. I don’t know…
Her hands slide to mine and I release my grip on the sheets, entwining my fingers with hers as she continues to torment me. Where her baby bump had presented a problem at other intimate moments, it appears to present no barrier whatsoever as she leans down and bites my earlobe with just enough pressure for the painful pinch to cause a jerk in my hips.
Fuck! Not fair.
“Ah ah,” she breathes in the ear that she just bit. “Let me.”
“Yes! Yes!” I pant, resigned that she is intent on bringing me to the height of my pleasure before the night ends with explosive orgasms.
Ha! Take that, Cholometes!
The merciless assault continues as she holds my hands down for leverage while kissing, sucking, and biting my neck for what feels like hours, though I know it’s much less. I’m transported to mindless ecstasy as she loves me, endlessly, pleasure shooting to every appendage. My breaths and groans fill the room and I’m helpless… totally at her mercy as she loves me and owns the body that completely belongs to her.
“Aaahhh!” she cries. Oh God, she’s close. Thank God! Thank God!
She releases my hands and pushes herself up on me again, her strokes still very slow, but more controlled, now… less random. I make the mistake of opening my eyes and she’s before me, her eyes closed and tweaking her breasts hard with both hands, lost in ecstasy.
“Fuck!” I hiss loudly, and I know my dick responded in like inside of her walls. She opens her eyes and looks down at me. She releases one of her breasts and her hand disappears under her baby bump. She bites her lip as the pleasure shoots through her.
“Aaahhh!” Her weight is on her hips and groin now, and she’s tormenting me with them as she chases her orgasm.
“Sit up…” she breathes. “Lean on your hands…” I rise almost immediately and yes, it changes the angle of my dick and the deepness of the penetration.
“Yes!” we hiss at the same time. Her knees drop to my hips and her hands rest on my shoulders. Now, she’s rising and falling perfectly on my upright dick, her speed increasing only slightly as I know the pleasure has intensified for her.
“Open your mouth!” The command is whispered, but forceful, laced with her orgasm hiding behind it. My mouth flies open involuntarily and her tongue slips in, sensually exploring the crevices of my cheek and dancing with my tongue in the kiss we adopted last year when her lips were like mine are now.
My heart swells at the gesture and it’s nearly impossible to obey the command and keep still. Our eyes are normally open during this time, but I close mine as I’m overcome with the need to love her, touch her, and stroke into her and I have to control it. I grip the sheets in my fists again and let her have the reigns completely. I whimper into her mouth and let go—sinking into the ecstasy and whatever she wants to do to me. This is your body. Do with it as you wish.
She continues to ride me slowly, deeply, and sensually and I feel like I’m not going to make it. I open my eyes to see her beautiful ocean blue eyes lock with mine and I swear the halo around her gets brighter. Am I losing my mind? Maybe my eyesight… at least she’ll be the last thing I see.
“Ugh!” I protest with her tongue still exploring my mouth. The burn in my hips is unbearable. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop this explosion when it comes. “Ugh!”
“Hold it… Baby…” she gasps against my lips, her hands still on my shoulders as she holds me down, riding my shaft, owning me.
Hold it… hold it…
My brain is turning to mush. I’m gripping the sheets so hard that I don’t know how they’re staying on the bed.
“Hold it… Baby… hold it…” her high-pitched voice signals that she’s seconds away from…
“Aaahhh! Aahh! Aahh!” Her head falls back as she gasps through her orgasm, her beautiful breast rising and falling, her body trembling and clenching in uncontrolled pleasure. Fuck, she looks magnificent!
Her stroke only pauses momentarily as she pants through her orgasm and aftershocks. My mouth is still open, this time in utter awe of her immeasurable beauty, and she slips her tongue back in my mouth—hot, wet, and coaxing like her core.
Ooh please, don’t torture me anymore…
Her lips close occasionally, kissing me tenderly and sultrily on my lips—still swollen, but unable to register anything but the softness of her lips on mine, the taste of her mouth, and the feel of her tongue darting in and out with each kiss and caressing my lips and tongue in between. The combination is mind-blowing. Added to the meticulous stroke and post-orgasmic contractions of her pussy, I’m gone in less than sixty seconds… I know it.
“Ooooooooohh,” she breathes into my mouth. “You’re so ready.” God, am I ready! I don’t think I’ve ever been so ready in my whole life. Well, maybe once or twice—like TPE last year and that hot fucking red dress… or the day she edged the fuck out of me on the sofa in my office… or that Christmas blowjob after she sang Santa Baby…
Well, none of that helped.
“Ooooooooooooo!” I moan painfully as I struggle aimlessly to stop this impending orgasm. It’s coming. It’s coming slow and deep and hot and hard and I know that I won’t be able to stop it. My hips are frozen now out of pure fear. I have no idea what’s going to come flying out of my dick when this cosmic eruption begins.
“Come for me, Baby,” she whispers against my lips. My balls tighten painfully and I groan mournfully for the explosive climax that I know will soon follow.
“Come on, Baby,” she coaxes, still grinding with slow, deep precision. “Give it to me.”
I’m panting wildly out of my mouth. I feel it rising—slow and thick and hot. Oh, God, it’s rising all over me! I grip the sheets tighter to try to ground me. I’m dizzy! I’m actually dizzy! And with the next masterful pull…
She closes her lips over mine and at the same time, slides her hands into my hair and pulls. My hips are in agony; my dick is burning, pulsing painfully inside of her. My balls feel like watermelons! I can’t stand it!
“Gaaahhh! Gaahh! Aahh!” I can’t help but wrap my arms around her as she holds herself down onto my violently emptying loins. Somehow, I’ve taken the sheet with me and it’s wrapped around both of us. My head falls back, helpless and gasping for air. Her fingers are still tangled in my hair, pulling possessively as she kisses and bites the tender skin of my neck, coaxing yet more semen out of me. It feels like it’s not ending.
“Wooooooo! Woo… woo… woo… woo…” I am panting through this orgasm like a woman in labor. She’s pressing hard on me as I come, grinding every so often in a circular motion so that I feel the tightness of her walls.
It’s forever—and I do mean forever—when the pulsing in my groin stops and I think the ride is finally over. My face falls into her bosom—swollen side out, my body hunched over her baby bump. I’m drenched in sweat and fighting to catch my breath. I feel her fingers gently combing through my wet curls as she cradles my head in her arms. She’s squeezing her muscles around me, making sure that I’m drained of every little drop and I whimper with each squeeze. There are only a handful of times that Greystone has been down for the count in one round, and this is one of them.
When I’ve gone from gasping for air to just panting, she helps me crawl up the bed to the pillows. I collapse on the bottom sheet, having ripped the top sheet off the bed in an orgasmic tantrum. I’m on the wrong side of the bed. I’m on Butterfly’s side. No matter, I’ll move when she comes back…
I’m awakened by a cool towel gently wiping over my face. It feels good. Did I fall asleep? I open my eyes—both functional now, albeit one is still swollen—and gaze on my Butterfly softly smiling down at me. She wipes my face, my neck, my chest, and my shoulders. I can only lie there on my back. I’m lying on my back? I never sleep on my back, but I can’t move. She continues her care by drying the moisture from my skin with a dry towel before laying the towel on the pillow next to my head.
Aftercare. It’s been a while.
Aftercare without a scene is new, though. Well, it had some scene-like qualities, but no, it wasn’t a scene.
I feel the sheet that I previously ripped off the bed now caressing my skin as she covers me and the bed with it, followed by the heavy warmth of our blanket. I feel my wife slide into bed next to me.
“Come to me, my love…”
I turn towards her voice and she’s facing me, laying the way she normally lies, but on my side of the bed. I turn to her and gladly roll into her open arms. We shift so that I’m slightly lower on the bed than she is and my face is perfectly positioned at my favorite pillow… between her breasts and the babies. I snuggle into my ultimate comfort after the ultimate orgasm with my arms around my soul and her leg around my hip. I quickly fall asleep to the feeling of her drying the back of my hair and the smell of Gail’s secret tea on my face.
Last night was the first decent night’s sleep I’ve had in three days.
When I woke this morning, Christian was still nestled in my breasts while the children were enjoying early morning playtime… either that, or they were screaming at Christian, “Move Dad! It’s hot in here!” Either way, I had to wake my peacefully slumbering husband to get our day started. We don’t know what time Chuck’s brother is supposed to be here and based on the conversation last night, he’s going to need all the support he can get. I’m praying that this doesn’t turn out to be another “Carla Morton” situation.
When Christian kisses me this morning, his kiss is full of love and reverence—and his lips aren’t nearly as swollen as they were yesterday. The swelling on his cheek and eye have also subsided tremendously, but the bruising is still pretty brutal. He definitely looks like he got the wrong end of the fight. I’m sure Brian doesn’t look like this whatever backlash he may be suffering, but it’s no matter. I won’t be able to stand the sight of him anyway.
I have a lot to squeeze into the next few days. I was supposed to talk to Addie about our plans for Courtney, but that little thing called hospital got in our way. Marilyn is coming by today so that we can go over a few things, including some information about other country clubs. I’ve effectively missed two days of networking, so we’ll have to see if that’s going to cost me anything.
After breakfast, Marilyn and I are in my office hashing out some plans. I want her to have an office at Grey Crossing, too, even though she’s mostly mobile. She’s starting to gather quite the contact list. No doubt, being Anastasia Grey’s personal assistant gets her into more doors than not. However, I don’t discount her personal savvy and abilities one bit when it comes down to getting things done.
As it turns out, while it’s sensible to transform one of the libraries into an office for Marilyn, not so for Gail. She’s right—with the babies due in two months and Gail taking on the role of their nanny, she’s going to be needed closer to the nursery. I’ll first see if Christian or Jason has blueprints to the house before I ask Elliot about them. We’re going to need to knock out a wall or confiscate one of the many secret rooms I heard about in this place.
“Glendale is absolutely thrilled that you’re considering joining them and I like the one with the wall of windows that look out onto the garden with the stone staircase,” Marilyn says, typing away at her iPad. Wait… what?
“Wait, wait, wait a minute. Did we just have two conversations and I didn’t know it?” I ask her, bemused. She raises her eyes to the ceiling as if contemplating her own words.
“Yeah, sorta, I guess. You gotta keep up, Bosslady,” she says, flippantly.
“No, no, no. You gotta slow down,” I correct her, pointing to myself. “Bosslady? Accident? Semi-corked brain?” Any of this ringing a bell with you?
“Okay, so we’re going to have to compromise…” Why is she talking ninety miles an hour? “There’s going to be some times when I’m talking at the speed of light like now because you’ve got me doing ten different things and I’ve got to keep all those balls in the air and keep them all sorted out.”
And she said that all in one breath.
“Okay, I understand that, but when I was one-hundred percent, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with that. You’re going to have to bring it down a couple of gears.” She chuckles at me.
“Understood,” she says with mirth. “So first, I like the library with the full-wall window—lots of natural light.”
“Got it. How about furniture? Have you had a chance to decide how you would want it furnished?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. Are the books staying?” she asks. I shrug.
“Do you want them to stay?” She nods.
“Yeah, I like how they look. I’ll start looking at some furniture and have some choices for you by the end of the day.”
“There’s no rush,” I tell her. “You can decorate it however you want.”
“Thanks. I just want to get that done. It’s probably the easiest thing on my ‘to-do’ list. Now,” and she switches gears effortlessly, “a little birdie informs me that the country clubs are actually going to be competing for you because Christian has avoided country clubs all this time. So the Greys are the coveted feather in the cap. However, that presents another problem for you.”
“And that is?” I ask.
“You join country clubs as a couple. You don’t join without Christian and he doesn’t join without you.”
How did I not know this??
“Are you kidding me?” I lament. She shakes her head.
“I’m afraid not,” she responds. “They may only court one of you, but they’re hoping to get both of you. Had he been a member before you were married, they would have expected you to join at some point after ‘I do.’” Oh, give me a break!
“So I can’t join the club alone? Even these women’s clubs we’ve seen?”
“They still expect to have his name on the club roster,” she says. “There are some clubs that don’t require you to join as a couple, but the ones that do are the ones that count.”
“Oh, this is just great,” I say, dropping my head in my hands. Even in trying to make a name for myself, I still need the approval of Christian Grey. I sigh.
“The assumption right now is that you’ve either convinced Christian to join a country club or pressured him into it. Either way, the operating premise is that he’s on board. Bearing that in mind, someone is going to approach him, too.” I’m still shaking my head.
“That doesn’t bother me,” I say, “but thanks for the heads up. And we both know that nobody pressures Christian Grey into anything.” I’m not doing this behind his back per se, I’m just doing it. Nobody does anything without Christian Grey’s knowledge and he’ll eventually find out about it. I’m just not waving a banner about my plans right now. The wheels are turning and I’m trying to figure out how I can still use this situation to my advantage in case he doesn’t agree to it.
“Keep gathering information,” I tell her. “I may have to just use the fanfare to my advantage and then drop the bomb later that there won’t be a country club membership.”
“You’re not going to try to join now?” she asks. I shrug.
“Unless I can pressure Mr. Grey into joining a country club, I don’t see how that’s possible, but we don’t know what the future holds. So let’s just wait and see. Who else do you have on that list?” She emails the list to me and I pull it up on my laptop. She’s pretty efficient—she has all of the options alphabetized.
“These are the ones you’re going to want to take a tour of soon, make sure your face is in the place. Glendale, you know we’ve already seen.” I nod as I examine the list:
Broadmoor (very exclusive)
Everett (very exclusive)
Mercer Island (beach club for families)
A few university clubs and a few athletic clubs
“Set up tours for me for the closest three or four for Tuesday and Thursday,” I tell her. “If he’s going to hear about me courting country clubs and them courting me, they won’t be somebody’s little hole in the wall,” I say, slightly frustrated that I still won’t be able to do this on my own. That reminds me—I need to call Addie.
“Hi Addie. It’s Ana.”
“Hello, Ana. I was expecting your call on Thursday.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I had an unfortunate run-in with the hospital.”
“The hospital!” she exclaims. “I hope everything is okay,” she adds, concerned.
“Yes, everything’s fine now. I just have to keep an eye on my blood pressure. Unfortunately, as a result, I was out of commission for a couple of days.”
“I can imagine. Christian must have been out of his mind with worry.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” I comment, the double meaning burning in my throat. “I’m doing much better now. I did want to talk to you about our plans for Courtney.”
“Ah, yes, my beloved granddaughter,” she says with a hint of sarcasm. “I had such high hopes for her. I still do, but I just don’t know how to guide her to the right path. She’s not a bad seed; she just doesn’t seem to have any motivation or ambition, no goals except to be a spoiled rich kid.” Cody Whitmore comes to mind the moment she says that and I would beg to differ about the “bad seed” comment, but I don’t know enough about her to make that assumption.
“Well, I can’t make any promises, but we’re going to do our best to redirect her,” I say. “I have a few ideas. Some of them are pretty cliché, unfortunately, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t work. I already know that I’m going to meet with resistance, and the only thing that will be able to curtail bad behavior is enforcement action.”
“What do you mean?”
I share with her my plans for enlightening her wayward granddaughter as well as my idea of enforcement action to keep her in line. Whether or not my plan works, she will come out of this experience with a bit of education on life, work, and consequences.
“I don’t know if you think this may be too drastic…”
“Oh, not at all,” Addie interrupts. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, and she’s headed in the wrong direction. She’s told old to be behaving this way. It’s time for her to make a change. She won’t go to college, she won’t make a decision for her life, she…” She trails off and I can hear the frustration in her voice. “Desperate times… not too drastic at all.”
“I’m so glad you agree, Addie. I’m of the belief that if she’s still alive, the issue can be fixed, right?”
“I certainly hope so,” she laments.
“So, you’re going to have to bring her to the center on Monday afternoon, because I’m certain that she won’t come on her own. She’s going to go off with her friends or something and swear that she showed up and I wasn’t there. If something happens where I can’t be where I promised, I’ll call you. If I’m incapacitated, I will have Marilyn call you.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll see you on Monday afternoon. What time?”
“One o’clock. She’s going to want to dress comfortably.” Addie chuckles.
“I’ll tell her. I don’t know how effective it will be, though.”
“No worries. She’ll see the sense in sensible clothing soon enough.”
We talk about a few more useful issues and items including lunch at the club again before we end the call.
“Okay, so the Harbor Club and Broadmoor will both see you on Tuesday morning before you have to get to Helping Hands. You always throw your charity in there when you can because a lot of the clubs would love to host some kind of benefit or fundraiser activity for potential members that they’re aching to land.” I nod.
“What about Thursday?” I ask. Before she gets a chance to answer the question, the two-way intercom comes alive. “Yes?”
“You have a visitor, Mrs. Grey.” It’s Ben. He’s very formal since our talk and I can’t say that I mind. No use in getting too attached to him. He’s only standing in until Chuck gets better.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“He requested that I don’t tell you.” What the…?
“It’s not Brian Cholometes, is it?” I demand.
“No, ma’am. Mr. Cholometes is on the proscribed list.” That’s good to hear.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“In the living room, ma’am.” I sigh.
“Fine. I’ll be there in a minute. End two-way communications.” When the intercom goes off, “What about Thursday?”
“Aren’t you curious who it is?” Marilyn asks.
“I’ll find out in a minute,” I respond. “Thursday?”
“Oh, yeah. You have your appointment with Dr. Culley in the afternoon, which means that you have to go to Helping Hands earlier that day. So we were only able to get one in on that day… Mercer Island.” I nod.
“Okay. See if your snooping abilities can get me any inside scoop on any of these places before my meeting so I’m not going in blind. Unless they are a definite no-go, I want each of these places to feel like they are my top choice, so I need some pertinent information—history, famous members past and present if they have any, key achievements in the community, anything you could find me.”
“Damn, Bosslady, you know you could rule the world,” she says, turning her attention to her iPad. “I’m going to use your laptop a bit if you don’t mind.”
“Make sure that’s one of the things you add to the list for your office,” I tell her. “Your iPad is handy and I plan on getting one on Monday morning so that we can sync a few things, but a desktop or laptop with a docking station is invaluable.” She nods.
“Sure thing,” she says, never raising her head. I head to the elevator to see who’s waiting for me in my living room.
“Hi Daddy,” I say to my father’s back as I approach the living room. He turns around to face me and his expression is a bit unreadable. “Why all the secrecy?”
“I was afraid that you wouldn’t see me… after my last visit,” he says, his voice soft. I frown deeply.
“What in the world would give you that idea?”
“Well, I’m told that you and Christian went straight to the hospital after I left. I assumed that it had something to do with my visit.”
“The content of your visit, yes, but the visit, no.” I kiss him on the cheek, then gesture to the sofa for him to sit down and I take a seat on the sofa across from him. “Brian, Daddy,” is all I say to him.
“I know,” he replies. “I’m beginning to question our friendship.”
“You guys have been friends for years. This has nothing to do with your friendship, Daddy…”
“I beg to differ, Annie,” Daddy says. “I know that he didn’t set out to send you to the hospital—that wasn’t his intention, but what did he expect to come from this?” Daddy’s getting angry. “That’s your husband, for Christ’s sake. What did he expect to come from this? Certainly nothing good. You’re pregnant, very pregnant, like ‘nearly about to deliver’ pregnant. He’s no fool. He knew this would upset you terribly. While I appreciate the severity of what he did to Christian, I’m angrier about what he did to you. Christian walked into the fight with his eyes open. He agreed to it, but you, you were an unwilling participant. You didn’t deserve what this did to you. You could have lost your babies, any number of things could have happened, but he was more concerned about making a statement than he was about your state of mind and your health.” I sigh. My father is livid and I can’t argue with his logic.
“Daddy, I don’t expect you to stop being friends with Brian,” I tell him. “You can still be friends with him, but I won’t.”
“How can I possibly be friends with him after this? This is the one of the most selfish and unreasonable things I’ve ever seen in my life.” I shake my head and sigh.
“You have to explain something to me, Dad,” I say, turning my body towards him. “I understand and completely feel the total outrage that you feel right now. I don’t question it at all. I felt it the moment I saw my husband’s face, but where was this outrage when I called you on Wednesday and on Thursday morning when you came to my home to defend this man?” I ask with no malice. “When did you suddenly become so intolerant of his behavior when you weren’t so intolerant of it in the beginning?”
“The moment I saw your husband’s face,” he answers without pausing, using my own words and I’m stunned for a moment. His eyes are sharp and that answer was enough—I really don’t need further explanation, but he elaborates anyway.
“I saw Brian, first. My best friend called me in a state and I was ready to go to blows with your husband, but I had to remember that there are always two sides to every story and somewhere in between the two sides is the truth. You have to consider if Allen called you and you found him in the state that I found Brian, how receptive would you be to anyone’s outside explanation?”
I don’t know in what condition he found Brian—I haven’t seen Brian, but if he was in one-quarter of the condition in which I found my husband and Al came to me looking like that, I can say that I wouldn’t be receptive to outside explanation at all. This is the first time that I can say that I can empathize with my father about why he was defending his best friend. However, it still doesn’t affect my feelings about that vermin!
“No man can do what I saw in Christian’s face without a distinct purpose,” he continues. “There was more than just a message there. There was rage and contempt and malice and…” Daddy sighs. “I’m a Marine, Annie,” he says, soberly. “I don’t know what happened that evening, but Brian could have killed that man. We’re trained to be able to get out of bad situations without a weapon. Even though you studied with that Krav Magna guy, I originally trained you, so you know.”
“Yes, Daddy, I know. That’s how I know that he didn’t unleash his worst on Christian, but he unleashed some pretty bad hits.” Daddy nods.
“To answer your original question, Sunflower, when Brian called us, he just told us that Christian put him in the hospital. When we got there, his entire torso was wrapped and he could barely move. He was under brief observation for internal bleeding, but they ran a few tests and he was okay to leave. We agreed that he could stay with us and we would keep an eye on him. When we got back home, he told me…” Daddy trails off.
“What?” I need to know. This has just gone on long enough.
“He told me that he had approached Christian with some kind of information—I don’t even know what it was…” Probably dangling something over his head about the Myrick/hacker situation, no doubt. I knew we should have never gotten him involved! “He said Christian just went nuts and the next thing he knew, they were fighting.”
“He’s lying,” I tell my father, calmly. I don’t even have to second-guess this one. I wasn’t there. I don’t know how the fight started, but I know he’s lying. When I’m ready, I’ll ask Christian about it, but I know Brian is lying. Lyin’ Brian… “Christian prides himself on negotiation, on being able to get into your head. If anything, I would bet that he pushed psychological buttons that Brian couldn’t take anymore and that’s what prompted the fight.”
“Brian’s the same way, Annie. He’ll goad you to death, but he won’t draw first blood.”
“You just made a very key statement, Daddy,” I say. “He’ll goad you to death.” I wait and let that sink in. Daddy nods solemnly.
“Yeah,” he says, resigned.
“Lives in Montesano, still in Seattle…” I add.
“Yeah,” he concurs. “I… I just wanted you to know why I originally wanted you to hear both sides of the story before you immediately passed judgement on Bri. It turns out that I was the one that needed both sides. I hope you don’t hate me.” I furrow my brow.
“Daddy,” I scold as I struggle out of my seat and move over to the sofa next to him, “you’re being ridiculous and you know it. How can I hate you for having a good heart? It’s not your fault that your friend is a raging, self-centered liar… or whatever he is.” I wave it off. “You guys have been friends for a long time,” I say softly as I reach over and squeeze his hand. “Your anger will subside and you’ll forgive him. That’s how it is with old friends. You’re right, any number of things could have happened, but they didn’t, so he got off easy. I’m not excusing what he did to my husband, but you’ll hurt if you lose your friend and I know you will. Eventually, you’ll forgive him… but I won’t.”
“I don’t see the use,” he shrugs. “He’ll never be able to come to Seattle again.”
“Oh, he can come, because I don’t live there anymore. As long as he stays away from Helping Hands, Grey House, and Mercer Island, he’ll be fine. Hopefully, he doesn’t go all psycho like David did when I spurned him, because if he does, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet right between his eyes on sight!” I threaten. Daddy shakes his head.
“No, that’s not his style,” he assures me. “This macho, head-butting bullshit—this, I would have expected. That scorned lover, forcing himself on a lady… that’s not him. He may attempt to sway your decision, but he won’t force himself on you.”
“He won’t attempt to sway me,” I tell my father. “If he comes anywhere near me, I’m going to give his balls a taste of what he gave Christian’s face.” Daddy winces.
“Oh, Annie,” he whines, pain evident on his face, “never give a man that kind of visual. We’re very empathetic when it comes to our testicles.” I have to resist the urge to laugh out loud.
“Sorry, Daddy,” I say with a snicker.
A/N: Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc., can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/becoming-dr-grey/
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Love and handcuffs!