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 34—What Was That You Said About Family?
I have no intention of convincing Daddy to remain friends with Brian. I honestly don’t care either way. However, as long as they have been friends, I know that Daddy would miss his presence if he lost Brian’s friendship. So I don’t press him either way.
I can tell that he feels better after our conversation and that makes me feel good. I never held him responsible for the Brian’s actions. It’s not his fault that his friend is an asshole. I just didn’t want him spouting off the man’s attributes after he pummeled my husband’s face. I understand that a fight is a fight, but now you have to deal with the fallout of that fight just like we do. I’m certain that he didn’t expect me to turn my back on him and never speak to him again, but I have no idea how he expected any reaction whatsoever in his favor.
“Christian, where can I get a set of blueprints for the house?” I ask him while he’s sitting in his office, no doubt reading emails and corresponding with Andrea or Ros or Welch or somebody at Grey House. He looks up at me questioning.
“Why do you need blueprintth for the houth?” he asks. His lisp is not so bad now—just the “s’s” still sound pretty bad, but even they sound better than yesterday.
“Because I want to get a feel for how much space is hidden behind these walls,” I tell him honestly. “I know that we have a lot of hidden rooms, like the previous owner was preparing for Armageddon or something! Anyway, I want to see what space can be opened up and converted into an office for Gail.” He does the sideways nod.
“Why don’t you tell me where thee might want the offithe and I’ll make it happen,” he says. I put my hands on my hips—as much as I can put my hands on my hips.
“Why is it that every time I ask someone about the house, you guys act like I’m asking for the Di Vinci Code?” I ask him. He frowns.
“What do you mean? When elthe did you athk about the houthe?”
“You see?” I say, pointing up at him and literally stomping my foot. “That! That’s what I’m talking about. You completely evaded my question and went right to when I asked about the house. What’s the deal here?”
He looks at me for a moment, then chuckles a bit. What the fuck is so damn funny?
“I’m thorry, baby. You juth look tho cute thtanding there putting your little foot down,” he teases. You son of a… “There’th nothing with you wanting to know thomething about the houthe. It’th juth thtrange becauthe the houthe ith already built and renovated. Tho it’th kind of hard to figure out what you might want with blueprintth, that’th all.” He’s talking so fast with that goddamn lisp; I have to concentrate to understand him.
“Do you want paper, 2D digital, or 3D virtual blueprintth? The 3D virtual can be a little daunting if you’re not good with watching thingth from a firtht perthon perthpective. It can make you nautheouth, too. Come to think of it, paper or 2D ith a better idea.” Jesus Christ, he’s rambling. Christian never rambles, and rambling is not really good with a speech impediment—slight though it may be.
“Did you want to thee one floor in particular or all five levelth?” My eyes grow large.
“Five? I thought we only had three!” I exclaim. Just how much hidden space is there in this monstrosity?
“Well, technically, it ith three. But thome of the roomth are thomewhat on a mid-level.” He holds his hands at different levels to demonstrate. “Like the wraparound dethk ith kind of a mid-level…” He puts his hands down and sighs when I just stand there frowning at him.
“I’m making thith more complicated than it needth to be,” he confesses as he takes my hand. “I gueth I thould thow you thomething thince you’re going to thee it on the blueprintth anyway. Come with me.”
He leads me to our bedroom and into his dressing room. I nearly jump out of my skin when the shelves in front of me shift, revealing a passage or room behind them. He squeezes my hand and leads me inside. It’s a very small room, very pretty with ambient lighting, but it’s empty except for the built-in bench around the room. I look up at Christian, puzzled.
“I figured the prior ownerth uthed it for meditathion. I thought it could be our connecthion room.” It takes a moment for me to realize what he’s saying, then warmth flows all over me as I understand.
“Christian!” I breathe. “Why didn’t you want me to see it?” He runs his hands through his hair.
“It’th not that I didn’t want you to thee it, it’th juth…” He sighs again. Clinging to my hand once more, he leads me to the other side of the small room and pushes on the opposite wall. We walk into a much larger room with lots of lights and beautiful royal blue walls. This room is huge… also empty. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what this room will be. I swallow hard remembering the nights and heights of passion, pain, and pleasure in the Red Room, and now it’s blue…
“Playroom,” I breathe, apparently unable to hide my arousal. He looks down at me, then at my chest.
“Your nippleth are thowing,” he says seductively. I look down at his groin.
“And your dick is getting hard,” I say matter-of-factly. “Why didn’t you want me to know about the rooms?”
“I didn’t want to thpring them on you before you were ready. I wanted uth to decorate them together.” Hmmm…
“Well… that’s sweet, I guess,” I concede. “Don’t be so secretive. It makes it look like you’re hiding something and that’s not good. Does Jason know about them?” He shrugs.
“We haven’t had long, meaningful chatth about them, but he’th theen the blueprintth, tho I’m thure he knowth they’re here. Two thecret roomth off our bedroom—one of them fairly large… you knew right away.” Yeah, he knows.
“Blue?” I ask. He pauses for a moment.
“Your eyeth,” he replies. I’m momentarily speechless.
“Really?” I say in disbelief. I look around the room. “My eyes are never this blue.”
“Yeth, they are.” My head snaps around to him.
“When are my eyes ever this blue?” I ask. This is one of the deepest, most royal royal-blues I’ve ever seen. It’s not dark, it’s just very deep. I know my eyes get pretty glassy—kind of high blue when I’m angry, but when in the hell do my eyes get this damn blue?
“Right before you come.”
All of my skin flushes from head to toe. I suddenly feel hot… I mean really hot, like ten degrees hotter than I was a minute ago. How could he possibly place the exact color of my eyes at that exact moment… and then paint an entire room?
“How could you…” My words trail off. I immediately think of all the times that he made me open my eyes so that he could watch me come. I feel a sheen of sweat forming on my skin.
“I thought you knew,” he says closing the space between us. “I’m unapologetically obsessed with my wife.” What happened to his lisp? “I know everything about you, baby… every contour of your body, every aroma, everything.” His fingertips travel from my cheek down my neck and to the valley of my breasts, sending a shiver down my back. I’m panting with excitement. Not now, Christian. What are we going to do, fuck on the floor? He sighs impatiently and reaches into his pocket. After looking at his blackberry, he answers it.
“Yeth?” and the lisp is back. “Okay.” He ends the call. “Charleth brother hath arrived at the gate.” I take a few deep breaths. I know Chuck wants us all present when he greets his brother. I straighten my clothes and hair and look up at my husband.
“Let’s go then.” He gazes at me for a moment, shoves his phone back into his jeans, adjusts his dick, then does the “after you” gesture.
Okay, this is kinda freaky. I walk into the dining room and swear that there are two Chucks in my house. The only thing that lets me know that Chuck is Chuck is that fact that Keri is sitting next to him and even she’s a bit stunned. Upon closer examination, I can tell them apart only if they are in a room together. Chuck has more rugged features than his brother—his face is narrower, more mature. Maybe it’s just more experience as I don’t know which is the older brother. I would guess it was Chuck, because his brother’s face is more square with that boyish charm look to it. His hair is a bit darker than Chuck’s, too… a little more red, I think… or brown. They’re both wearing crisp white T-shirts and denim bottoms, though Chuck is wearing oversized shorts to accommodate his cast while Joseph is wearing relaxed-fit jeans and sneakers.
“No, we’re not twins,” Chuck says, answering my next mental question. “Christian, Ana, this is my brother, Joseph Davenport. Joe, these are my employers and friends, Christian and Anastasia Grey.” Christian extends his hand to Joseph.
“It’s nice to meet you,” and the lisp is gone again. Joseph raises his eyebrows curiously while taking Christian’s proffered hand.
“Likewise,” he says. “You look like you got the raw end of a deal. I hope the other guy looks worse.” I can tell by the change in his expression that Christian’s handshake may have just gotten a little firmer.
“No, but I can bet he feels worse,” he says matter-of-factly. “I was defending my wife’s honor.” Joseph looks at me and I nod once.
“Well, that’s a good reason. I’d take a blow or three for my Sunny, and give a few more.” Christian graciously releases his hand, now that they understand each other. Christian pulls out a chair for me and I take a seat while he takes his usual seat at the head of the table.
“Can I get refreshments for everyone?” Ms. Solomon asks.
“Coffee, please,” Christian says. Keri and Chuck both nod that they’ll have coffee as well. Jason raises his hand that he’ll have nothing from his position standing just behind Chuck.
“I’ll have coffee, too, please,” Joseph says.
“Ginger tea,” I request.
“I hear that helps with the weight gain,” Joseph says. “Getting a jump on things?” His tone isn’t offensive, but what the fuck was that?
“No,” I say, slightly affronted. “I’m very athletic, so I’m not concerned about the weight gain. I just like ginger tea,” I answer curtly. He nods unaffected. I turn to Christian frowning, who is glaring at Joseph a bit impassively. He continues his conversation like he didn’t just say something offensive to the woman of the house, right after he threw a bit of a shot at the man of the house.
“This is quite the set-up you have here, Chuckie,” he continues, looking around and taking in his surroundings, including present company. “Do you really need this much back-up?” Chuck sits back in his wheelchair.
“First of all, you can call me Charles or you can call me Chuck, but don’t call me Chuckie. Second, I haven’t seen you in several years. All my attempts to contact you have failed and now, here you are—out of the blue, more than a month after I was injured and almost died and I know that you knew about it. So, yes, I do need a bit of reinforcements. Forgive me if I’m being a bit cautious.” Joseph raises his eyebrows again. He does that a lot. I think that’s his tell.
“Everybody calls you Chuckie,” he protests. “Mom and Dad call you Chuckie…”
“Mom and Dad don’t call me anything,” he corrects his brother. “My attempts to contact them have failed, too. I don’t even know where they are. At least you’re using the present tense, so I know that they’re still alive.” Joseph blanches at this statement. He’s in touch with their parents, apparently, so he had to know that they weren’t speaking. “Yes, everybody calls me Chuckie except you, and you know why.” Chuck just glares at his brother.
Joseph folds his hands on the table in front of him. It feels like a show of defiance, but not. Definitely not a sign of capitulation… maybe compromise.
“Fine, Chuck it is. You can’t possibly feel threatened here,” Joseph says, gesturing around himself. “It’s like Fort Knox. You damn near need a password to get in!”
“I know this,” Chuck replies calmly. “I’m one of the gatekeepers.” He pauses to let that last statement sink in. “Like I said, cautious, not threatened.”
“So… what, your friends let you in for a little R&R?” Joseph retorts. He speaks with no malice, but his words cut and I can’t avoid my scoff. I turn to Christian.
“Let him…?” I turn back to Joseph. “Chuck is our friend,” I say, trying not to hiss. “He’s like family. He saved my life. He’s welcome in our home always. He’s not some pet that we let off the leash sometimes!” He raises his hands defensively.
“Sor-ry,” he says, putting emphasis on the second syllable. “I wasn’t trying to offend anybody.” Yes, you were, but I’ll accept your half-assed apology anyway. “You do seem to be doing pretty well for yourself here, Chucki… Chuck.” Chuck narrows his eyes infinitesimally at his brother.
“Thank you, but I don’t live here,” he says. Joseph frowns.
“No, I don’t. I own a house on Bainbridge,” he says. Just as Joseph is about to respond, Ms. Solomon returns with a coffee service, another member of the staff right behind her with a platter of pastries. She quickly serves everyone coffee and tea for me with instructions to help themselves to pastries. After ensuring that no one wants anything else, they retire back to the kitchen.
“You got a big house, too?” Joseph asks while taking a pastry from the platter. Chuck sips his coffee.
“No, it’s just me. I don’t need a big house. It’s big enough, but why pay for rooms that I don’t need?”
“Keri here doesn’t live with you?”
“Keri’s just visiting. She and I are staying here with the Greys while I recover. Like I said, my place is not that big, so maneuvering a wheelchair is not that easy.”
“Maybe you should get a bigger place,” he says, taking a huge bite of the pastry.
“It’s not necessary,” Chuck retorts. “Like I said, not paying for rooms I don’t need.”
“What, you can’t afford it?” he says with a mouthful of pastry. “I bet the hazard pay alone could buy you a couple of houses.”
“That’s true, but it’s still wasted money. How’s Sunny?” Joseph swallows his pastry.
“We’re, um… we’ve separated.” Well, that doesn’t surprise me. I can barely stand to be in the room with you for a few minutes. I can’t imagine being married to your ass. How is it possible that these two have the same parents and Chuck is deemed the bad seed?
“Separated?” Chuck frowns. “How long?”
“A few years now…”
Christian and Jason watch with scrutiny and Keri and I with slight disinterest while Chuck and Joseph talk for several minutes about everything and nothing, carefully and obviously avoiding the topic of their parents. Joseph continues to take tiny—and not so tiny—jabs anywhere he can, including a crack about how hard it must be for Keri to manage her hair. It’s taking everything in me not to tell this man to get his uncouth, untrained, uncultured ass out of my house!
“Chuck, I need to talk to you and I really need to do it without the audience,” Joseph says, and now we get to the crust of the visit. I push my chair back, only too anxious to exit this man’s presence and let him have whatever conversation he needs to have with his brother. I put my hand on Christian’s shoulder as he almost appears to be in a trance as he glares at Joseph. He looks up at me and rises out of his seat.
“We’ll be in the family room, Chuck,” I say as information that we won’t be far away. He nods.
“I’ll be somewhere nearby,” Jason says. “Use the two-way if you need me.”
“Got it,” Chuck says. Before Christian and I leave, I see Keri make to rise from her seat, but Chuck gently grabs her wrist. Whatever Joseph has to say will have to be in the presence of Ms. Illidge. As Christian, Jason, and I exit the room, we can hear Joseph’s final demand for Keri to leave.
“Her, too,” he says, like he’s shooing away a dog.
“She stays,” Chuck states. “What do you need to talk about?”
Their conversation fades as we walk into the family room. Gail comes through with laundry headed towards the kitchen.
“You might want to take the elevator if you’re headed upstairs,” I tell her. “We have been shooed from the dining room because the Davenports are having a private conversation under the watchful eye of Ms. Illidge.” She pauses for a moment to absorb what I’m saying.
“Oooh,” she says in a drawn-out, knowing tone. “Well, I guess I should.”
“Let me take that for you, Love,” Jason says, relieving her of the basket. She turns to me as Jason walks to the elevator.
“He’s going to be a mess when she finally gets on that plane back to Anguilla.” Oy! I never thought of that. She is going to have to go back sooner or later and he’s become pretty dependent on her.
“She’s not leaving yet, though,” I say.
“No, her visa’s not up until February, but when it is…” she trails off and shrugs.
“Have they thought about getting married?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “They never mentioned it to me. I know that they care for each other, but I don’t think it’s gone that far.” She shrugs again and walks towards the elevator with her husband. I wonder if there is a way that we could get Keri to be able to…
“Okay. Mrs. Fix It, thtop the wheelth from turning,” Christian says, breaking my train of thought. I turn to look at him.
“What?” I ask.
“If he wants to marry her, he will. Don’t go prethuring that man into doing something that he’s not ready to do.”
“I wasn’t!” I really wasn’t. “I was just trying to think of a way that we might be able to help.”
“They haven’t asked uth for our help!”
“I know, and they probably never will!” I protest. Christian puts his hands on my arms and I know he’s about to speak to me very slowly in that way that you talk to a toddler when you want them to understand you.
“Butterfly, what you want to do ith very romantic, but thith woman hath a life in Anguilla. Thee hath not athked that her life be uprooted. Until and if thee does, we thtay out of it. Okay?” Fuck! I hate it when he goes against me and he makes perfect damn sense!
“Okay,” I say in my pouty voice, only I’m really pouting. Chuck is going to be devastated when Keri returns to Anguilla. He’ll most likely still be healing from his physical wounds and will then have some emotional wounds to mend.
“I know you mean well, but you have to let thith be,” he reinforces. I nod. “Now, how about thome Disney?” Yes, I can do Disney, and I know he’s capitulating to me to soften the blow of staying out of Chuck and Keri’s business.
“Okay. How do you do that?”
“Turn the lithp on and off,” I say, mimicking his lisp.
“It takes work,” he says. “If I concentrate, I can talk without it. If I’m lathy, it’th back. Now, what do you want to watch?” I twist my lips.
“Hmm… I think… Beauty and the Beast. Yeah, I like the songs.” He twists his lips.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Mrs. Grey?” he says, still holding the remote as I take a seat on the sofa. I furrow my brow.
“No…” I say, uncertainly, “We can watch The Little Mermaid… I like those songs, too…”
Realizing his error, my husband chuckles good-naturedly and chooses Beauty and the Beast from the Disney On Demand selections. When the movie starts, he takes my hand and makes me stand from the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I ask. He takes a seat.
“I’m going to sit in my family room and pretend to watch Disney movies and neck with my hot wife while she sits on my lap. I plan to grope her soft breasts, grind my dick into her round ass, and kiss her delicious lipth until we both have a lithp.” Knowing that he’s sort of doing it on purpose makes me giggle.
“Mr. Grey, I don’t think your doctor would approve of that,” I say as I take a seat on his lap. He groans as he adjusts himself and me in a very precarious position.
“Well, he ain’t here, is he?” he growls deeply. He covers us with my favorite throw and wraps his arms around me, snuggling me onto his lap. “Your body is so soft, Mrs. Grey.”
“And yours is so hard, Mr. Grey,” I purr in his ear. I enjoy the fact that his chest and his thighs are so firm and his arms are so strong. I feel like he’ll always hold me up and never let me fall. His lips press gently against mine just as the narrator finishes telling the story about the enchanted castle. His hand cups my breast and my arm slides around his neck. I feel like a teenager necking on my parents’ sofa and hoping that they won’t walk in and catch me. His lips travel softly down my jaw and to my neck and his hand raises the hem of my shirt and brushes over the baby bump. One of the children greets us with a slight kick causing us both to chuckle.
“You think they want us to stop?” he asks, still kissing my neck.
“Do you intend to?” I ask breathily. He raises his head and looks at me.
“Not on your life.” His lips meet mine again and I tangle my fingers in his soft curls. I love Christian’s hair, and he loves when I play in it and pull it. His tongue begs entry into my mouth and I grant it, savoring his flavor and the sensual tango we fall into. His hands are everywhere and he moans into my mouth, his tongue exploring and teasing and causing me to rise and want him more even though I know I can’t have him here. His hands run along my hip, pushing me down onto his erection and causing him to moan. He rubs the outside of my thigh and then squeezes, pressing himself into me again. I know that he won’t come this way, but he’s enjoying the sensation and it’s making me hot. When he repeats the rub on the inside of my thigh on the outside of my yoga pants, I’m alight with sensation, on fire in his lap and trying not to wiggle. He tickles the tender meat and causes me to shiver, but when his fingers ghost the seam at my core, I buck involuntarily.
Shit! That was intense!
He does it again and my hips quiver. Fuck, Christian, stop! But he does just the opposite. His entire hand attacks the crevice, his thumb deeply massaging the seam over my lips outside my clit. A loud whimper escapes my throat and disappears into Christian’s mouth, covered by Belle singing about books and a boring French village. I’m squirming madly in his arms as his hand rubs over my pants and the friction warms me to a fever pitch. Just when I’m about to explode, he stops. I gasp in a loud breath as much as I can with his tongue in my mouth, but my reprieve is short-lived when he thrusts his hand down my pants and into my panties, two fingers into my core and his thumb now firmly massaging my wet, raw clit.
I want to cry out, but he has my mouth firmly locked with his, my body pressed against his. Oh God, he’s working me up quickly, faster, hotter, more intense than before. Of course, he knows my body, and right at that moment, he releases my mouth:
“Come. You know you want to. Come.”
He covers my lips again as I flow over his hand, convulsing in his arms and whimpering into his mouth. He continues until I’m keening, then wraps me in an embrace, gently kissing my neck while I try to catch my breath.
She has no idea how much I love to make her come. I don’t even have to—of course, I like to, but I don’t have to all the time… as long as I can feel her juices slide down my fingers or my throat and taste them on my tongue, feel her shiver and gyrate in my arms, I’m a happy man. She thought I couldn’t match that color blue of her eyes. Of course you wouldn’t know that blue, Butterfly. You’ve never seen it. I, on the other hand, could pick it out in my sleep. It eclipses the entire iris and I’ve never seen anything like it. Every time we’re in that room, I plan to see her eyes that color… so why not the walls?
I kiss the delicate skin on her neck and chest as her breathing regulates. Her smell is exquisite when she’s hot. She’d drive any man mad with desire, and she’s mine. I’m wearing the battle scars now to prove that Cholometes is out of his mind, unfortunate ass fuck. I caress her back and only just now pay attention to the movie that we should be watching.
“You know, he really ith a little crathy,” I say to Butterfly.
“Most geniuses are,” she says, her voice weary. I look down at her and she raises sleepy blue eyes to me.
“Tho, you think he’th a geniuth, too?” I ask. She nods.
“Mm-hmm,” she says, weakly, “for his time. They said Einstein was insane.” She’s so sleepy.
“They did,” I concur, gently pecking her lips. “Are you going to sleep?”
“I don’t know… maybe…”
“I think you are,” I say, pecking her lips again. “That means this movie’s going to be a do-over.”
“Mmm-hmm, just don’t make me come next time so I can stay awake.” I chuckle and peck her lips again. Over the next few moments, I listen and I’m trying to see if I’m mistaken about what I’m hearing. Butterfly’s eyes shoot open, and I’m sure that I’m not.
Loud voices coming from the dining room.
“So much for a nap,” she says, throwing the blanket off of us and standing from my lap.
“At least their timing was right,” I say, straightening my clothes and adjusting my pants.
“I know, right?” Butterfly says, doing the same thing and smoothing her hair. I speed dial Jason as we make our way through the kitchen.
“Yes, sir?” he answers.
“Dining room. Now.” I end the call. When we get there, Keri has her hands on Charles’ shoulders literally holding him into the chair as he truly threatens to stand on his broken leg. He’s yelling at Joseph, who is hovering over him in his wheelchair.
“Gentlemen!” I yell, firmly, breaking their concentration. They both glare at me. “I don’t know what’s going on, but can you please refrain from trying to kill each other in my dining room!”
“Your overseer has spoken,” Joseph hisses. I frown deeply.
“Excuse me?” I retort.
“God, you are so full of shit, Joe,” Charles interjects. “You walked into a house the likes of which you’ve never seen in person before in your life, and because it had to do with me, it was still beneath you. You’ve insulted people you don’t even know who have more class in their split ends than you have in your whole goddamn body. You’re talking shit about everything you lay eyes on including the woman who loves me who flew across borders, seas, and oceans to take care of me while the woman who swore to honor and cherish you for the rest of your life can’t even stand to live in the same house with you.”
“And who’s fault is that?” he hisses.
“Oh, now I’m responsible for the break-up of your marriage and I haven’t seen you in twelve years? Save that shit for the next sucker. You’ve choked on that same bullshit for so many years that you’re starting to believe it yourself. You came across, what—five, six states? You walked in here and didn’t even ask me ‘hey Chuck, how ya feelin’? What happened? Will your leg heal? Gee, Chuck, you’re in a wheelchair. Will you walk again?’ No, you came in and just started talking about money and houses and the people I live with and the woman I love and now I know why. I still have no idea that my parents are actually alive or even where they are except for the fact that you asked for money that you say is for them.”
Oh, fuck. It always comes down to money. You’re dead until they know you’re attached to money in some way. Just as I’m thinking it, I hear it behind me.
Jason has joined us and no doubt regrets telling this man anything about the condition of his brother. His intentions were pure, because we had no idea if Charles would make it and Joseph is the listed next of kin. However, all parties present now realize that this was a huge mistake.
“Well, you’ve ruined everybody’s life. Why not turn us all down now?” Joseph replies indignantly.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Charles retaliates. “If my parents want to talk to me and they need help, you tell them where to find me. Otherwise, you choke on your own garbage. I just had a damn-near fatal accident and my life is golden while yours is shit and you still have the nerve to stand there and look down on me. You’re really pathetic, Joseph, and we don’t have anything else to say to each other.”
“Oh, sure, no problem—and when I walk out that door, you’re going to feel sorry for yourself again and bury your face in a bottle of vodka like you always have.” Charles actually laughs.
“I’ve been clean for 15 years and I told you that—not a drop of alcohol and they had to damn near force feed me over-the-counter ibuprofen for my broken bones. I’m not going to spend another moment trying to convince your blind, deaf, dumb, and ignorant ass that I’m not the person that I used to be. A good friend told me that I should stop punishing myself for things that have already happened in my life that I can’t change. As part of my 12-step program, I had to apologize to you—which I did 12 years ago, and you still haven’t accepted my apology.
“If you can’t understand that I was a fucked-up kid doing fucked-up shit, but I’m not that fucked-up kid anymore, then I don’t give a fuck what you think. I’ve changed what I can change, but I’m not going to spend what time God has chosen to gift me in penance for something that I can’t change. The choice is yours, Joseph. We can bury the hatchet and get on with our lives, or as my next of kin until and if I ever get married, just make sure that I have a decent burial if I die before you.”
“Which you will,” Joseph says coolly. Charles’ face stiffens.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Charles says, his voice a bit tormented. “It was really stupid of me to believe that after all these years, you would come to Seattle just to see if I was okay. There had to be something else. I had hoped for just a second that I might have been wrong, but no, you’re still the same asshole.”
“Look who’s talking!” Joseph barks at Charles. “You put Mom and Dad through hell with your drinking and now you’ve got the nerve to sit on a high horse.”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” Charles snaps. “I’m not on a high horse. I’m just finally living my life the way I want to live it without alcohol. I live well, I take care of myself, and I’m happy. I’ve met real, genuine friends who care about me. Real people, and if saving the life of someone as loyal and true as that woman standing behind you right now means that I have to throw myself in front of another moving car, then I’ll do it again in a minute without a second thought. I’m done kissing your ass. I’ve apologized already and if you don’t want it, then you throw it back, but I’m not letting you hold this shit over my head one more second.” Keri’s hand is still on Charles’ shoulder.
“Chatlez,” she says softly, “easy nuh.” It’s like someone has thrown a vat of cold water over Charles and he calms right down, nodding to her that he’s okay.
“So you get out here around these rich snobs and you don’t know your family anymore?” Rich snobs? What the fuck is he talking about? He’s been insulting from the moment he stepped into the house and he’s calling us names? “Then you’re sniffing around behind this island picka…”
“Don’t you dare!” Butterfly nearly shrieks. I wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but I have no doubt what was coming out of his mouth after her reaction. I put my arm around her waist to calm her. Your blood pressure, baby.
“You need to leave now,” I say, working hard to control my lisp.
“You don’t look like you’re in a position to make me do anything, sport!” Joseph shoots.
“He may not be, but I am,” Jason says, emerging from behind me.
“And me,” Lawrence appears from God only knows where with Williams behind him.
“I’ll take some of that,” Williams says, throwing his hat in the ring. Jason looks at his counterparts and back at Joseph.
“There’s about twenty-five of us on staff if you want to take us all on,” Jason says.
“It’ll take twenty-five of you to take me,” he replies haughtily.
“No, actually, it’ll just take me,” Jason retorts. “He’s a cocky little bastard, isn’t he?” Charles just sits in his chair with his head down. His disappointment is palpable. I feel very sorry for him at this moment.
“You’re the guy who called me,” Joseph says, recognizing Jason’s voice.
“Yes, I am, and I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you ever since I called you and told you that your brother was almost killed. I couldn’t believe that you could be so callous and so cold until I saw it with my own eyes. Now here you are, in all of your self-proclaimed haughtiness insulting people you don’t even know. I don’t know if you’re really brave, really ignorant, or both, but you need to turn around and start heading back the way you came for your own health and safety.” Joseph scoffs at my security.
“You don’t want none of this, tough guy,” he taunts.
“You talk big shit for somebody clearly at the disadvantage here,” Jason says. “I took a bullet nine months ago and I’m still at the top of my game. Do you think I’m afraid of you?”
Jason has closed the space between him and Joseph and is ready pounce, glaring at Charles’ brother with piercing blue eyes and daring him to make a move. I instinctively move Butterfly behind me and back her away from the scene possibly about to unfold. Jason is breaths away from Joseph’s face, waiting for him to make a move, but he just stands there glaring at Jason and pretending not to be intimidated by the mountain of man standing in front of him.
“Leave. Now. Or I’ll help you,” Jason says slowly, never moving his eyes from Joseph.
“You can’t…” Joseph begins.
“I said NOW!” Jason growls from his throat through his teeth in a voice I’ve never heard before. It sends a chill through me and it obviously does the same thing to Joseph. He thinks better of unleashing further anger from this bear and, with a roll of his eyes, turns to leave.
“Joseph!” Charles calls to him when he reaches the doorway. Joseph turns around to face his brother. Charles gazes upon him for a moment then says, “I love you, Joseph.” After a pause and no reply, he adds, “Dead now.” Joseph shrugs one shoulder.
“No skin off my back,” he says stoically and leaves the room with Jason, Lawrence, and Williams behind him. We’re all silent for a moment, then after a few minutes, Charles chokes back something in his throat before collapsing in bitter, soul-wrenching sobs. It’s difficult to watch. Keri tries to comfort him, and he cocoons himself in her arms as he laments the final loss of his brother. Butterfly dashes from behind me and kneels at his side. She gently touches his back and puts her hand on his knee. He immediately grabs her hand and squeezes like he’s trying to get his life’s blood from it, still weeping mournfully in Keri’s arms. I’ve never seen him like this and never thought I ever would. I make my way over to where everyone is comforting him.
“Charleth, ith there anything I can do?” I ask, feeling completely helpless. He cries deeper.
“No… no…” he weeps, his face still buried in Keri’s chest. Jason comes back into the room, shocked to see Charles in this condition. He looks at me, then at Lawrence and Williams, who have entered behind him. Lawrence nods and he and Williams leave the room. Jason tries more than once to wheel Charles out of the room, but he won’t release his angels. He just has to cry it out. This is the worst kind of pain. This is worse than death. This is old wounds that were once healed over as much as they could be now ripped open anew in the cruelest way possible.
Joseph showed up and gave Charles new hope. He thought that he had finally paid his penance, that his purgatory was finally over, but it wasn’t. It was all for money. It always comes down to money. Where Charles thought he would finally see reconciliation, he still sees ostracization. This asshole dangled a carrot in his face, a carrot that Charles obviously wanted so badly, then he snatched it away when he didn’t get what he wanted. No doubt, he would have welcomed Chuckie back into the family with open arms had Charles given him what he wanted. No money, no family. Show us the money, me love you long time. Way to pimp your family, Joe.
Now, he’s left in that state he was when he left rehab… with no family, and his girl returning to Anguilla in a couple of months. He’s going to need people more than ever now. I’ve felt that way more than once. I understand. Now that I’ve met his brother, I understand why he was so afraid to take his meds. He couldn’t risk going back. He can’t go back. No matter what, he can’t go back…
“Charleth…” He’s weeping too hard to hear me. I squat in front of him. “Charles,” I say clearly. He still doesn’t hear me. “Chuck!”
Everybody in the room is looking at me know, including a sniffling Chuck. I lean my elbows on my knees.
“We’ve got you, Chuck,” I tell him, “and you’ve got us. You’re not alone. We won’t leave you and we won’t let you down. We’ve got your back, man. All of us, we’ve got you. You’re going to be okay… okay?” He looks at me in disbelief, like he can’t comprehend what I’m saying. Jason put his hands on Chuck’s shoulders and I cover the hand that’s holding Butterfly’s.
We got you, man. We got your back. We’re your family. We got you covered.
He shivers and starts to cry again, then nods that he understands. We all stay where we are for a few moments.
“What do you need, Chuck?” Jason asks.
“A drink,” he mutters through his tears, and the room freezes again. “Don’t worry, I don’t want one. Jay, I left my phone downstairs. Would you go get it, please? I need to talk to Kevin, right now!”
“Two shakes, man, don’t move.” Chuck nods and Jason takes off in a sprint.
“Watt do you wan meh to do, Chatlez?” Keri asks, her voice pleading.
“Stay right where you are, beautiful,” he says, clinging to her.
“Excuse us, Chuck,” Butterfly say, “I need just a moment with my husband. We’ll be right back, okay?” Chuck nods. His sobs have subsided a bit, though his tears continue. Butterfly rises and takes my hand, leading me back towards the living room. When we are out of sight and earshot of everyone else, she throws her arms around me. I feel her warmth infusing into my body.
“About a year and a half ago, I met this man. He was arrogant and cold and cocky and closed off.” She releases me and looks into my eyes. “Somehow, we broke through that cold, horrible exterior and found a heart, lonely and afraid and needing to be loved… but that man still didn’t want to let anyone in. Slowly, but surely, he let more and more people in.” She does an outline of a heart on my chest. “It hasn’t been easy for him. He found the love of his life and his family. He found friendship that he kept and some that he thought were friends that he released.”
I never really thought she knew that. I let go of the Scooby Gang because they were her friends. I never turned my back on them, I just didn’t consider them my friends anymore.
“One thing that he was adamant about was making sure that the line was always drawn between the friends and the staff. Though I understood this, I knew that there was no way that you could spend several hours a day, every day with someone and not develop a friendship. He was very stubborn about this until he realized that the very person with whom he was trying to draw that line was his best friend. Now, he has extended that same courtesy to man that I have considered my friend and have grown to love as a brother even though he’s a member of the staff as well. That man has now recognized that both of those men are now our family because they saved our lives.”
“They’re bodyguards, baby,” I explain. “That’s what they do, that’s their job.”
“But that’s not why they did it,” she protests softly. “They protect us, they keep us from danger because that’s their job. They put themselves directly in harm’s way and saved our lives because they are our friends. Jason could have hit you low and knocked you out of the way of that bullet. You might have gotten grazed at best and he would have knocked the ever-loving wind out of you, but he wouldn’t have taken that bullet.”
I ponder her explanation for a moment. Fuck, she’s right. Had he hit me in the side with his whole body weight, I would have been winded and maybe grazed, but he wouldn’t have been hit. I never thought of that.
“When Chuck saw those headlights coming at us, if he had punched it instead of throwing his body at me, we would have still been hit, but the Audi would have been hit in the back seat instead of the front driver’s side. There would have been damage—I, most likely, still would have gone through the window, but Chuck would not have been T-boned head-on by that Chevy.”
Goddammit, she’s right again. He could have avoided getting hurt and Butterfly’s injuries may have been the same, but he didn’t take the chance. He covered her body instead to ensure that he took the brunt of the impact.
I drop my head at this realization. I was grateful for the result, not for the reasons behind the actions. These men sacrificed more than I will ever be able to repay and I didn’t even know it.
“You’re a wonderful man,” she says, embracing me, “and I love you. Thank you for being there for Chuck.” I just nod. I’m a little floored by what I’ve just learned and I’m trying to recoil from it.
“Butterfly, before we go back in there, I know who Joseph is unfortunately now, but who’s Kevin? Is this another brother that I need to know about?” She sighs.
“No. I’m not supposed to know it, but Kevin is his sponsor,” she replies. I nod. Almost like clockwork, a tall, skinny fortyish guy with a short black buzz cut is being let into the grand entry.
“Kevin,” Butterfly says, brushing past me to the grand entry. What did he do, fly? Does he live on Mercer Island, too? “I’m so glad you could come.”
“I got here as soon as I could. Anastasia, right?” he says, uncertainly.
“Yes, yes, please follow me.” She leads him back to the living room where I’m still standing. “This is Kevin, Chuck’s AA sponsor. Kevin, this is my husband, Christian Grey.”
“Mr. Grey,” Kevin says, proffering his hand to me.
“Christian, please,” I say, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you, sir. His brother was here?” he asks, looking quickly back and forth from me to Butterfly.
“Yes, and it was a bloodbath,” she informs him. He sighs heavily and shakes his head.
“Please, take me to him.” The three of us walk back to the dining room where Keri and Chuck are still in the same position and Jason has taken a seat in the chair where I normally sit.
“Chuck?” Kevin’s voice is strong, authoritative when he calls Chuck’s name. Chuck raises blood red eyes to his sponsor.
“I need a drink, man. I need a drink!” He sounds desperate, like he’s begging for the urge to leave.
“Okay, okay, let’s talk about it. We need privacy. Everybody leave now.” Butterfly and I once again exit our own dining room with Jason close behind. We can tell that Chuck has tried to keep Keri behind again.
“She has to go, too, Charles,” Kevin says. “It needs to be me and you.”
“I’m not gone make it, man,” Chuck protests.
“Charles,” Kevin’s voice scolds. There’s no movement, so Butterfly goes back to the dining room.
“He has to do this on his own,” I hear Kevin’s voice reinforce. A few seconds later, Keri’s tortured voice tries to comfort him.
“I won goh fah, choonks,” she promises, “I sweah, I be wight heyah. I won goh anywheh, choonks.”
“Okay. Okay, baby,” Chuck’s strained voice responds.
Butterfly and I start Beauty and the Beast from the beginning and try to keep Keri occupied on the same sofa where I made her come maybe an hour or so earlier. We have a few moments where she forgets that her man is a few rooms away attempting to avoid tragedy, but more moments where she’s watching the doorway and waiting to see his wheelchair rolling through it. We actually finish the movie and start The Little Mermaid before Chuck and Kevin join us in the family room. We all stand and look at them, waiting for the verdict. Chuck looks positively weary.
“Crisis averted for now,” he says, his voice tired. “I’m okay.” Keri’s relief is palpable as she scrambles over to him and hugs him tight.
“You okay?” she asks him.
“Not completely,” he answers honestly, “but I will be.” She nods.
“Yes, it will be,” she says.
“I want to go clean up for dinner. Whatever they’re cooking, it smells great. I want to eat, then turn in early. I haven’t been this much of a whiny bitch since rehab—no offense, ladies.”
“None taken,” Butterfly says. Keri mouths a “thank you” to her and gets behind Chuck’s chair.
“Thanks, Kevin. I really appreciate it,” Chuck says as she wheels him to the elevator.
“No problem, Chuck. Always a phone call away, remember.” Chuck waves his hand as he and Keri disappear down the hall.
“Well, I think I’m going to clean up for dinner, too,” Butterfly says, throwing a knowing look at me. That’s right, you’ve been sitting here in wet panties for a few hours.
“Mr. Grey, Christian, would you mind showing me out please?” Kevin says to me. I know what that means.
“Jason, stick around for a moment if you don’t mind. Hopefully, this won’t take long,” I say.
“Yes, sir,” he says, taking a seat on the sofa. Butterfly disappears down the same hallway where Keri and Chuck went toward the elevator.
“Thanks for coming, Kevin,” I say as we walk to the grand entry and Windsor retrieves his coat. “He was really in a bad way.”
“Yes, he was. He hasn’t been that bad since he was right out of rehab. He’s not out of the woods, yet.” I sigh.
“I was afraid of that.” Kevin raises an eyebrow.
“Are you familiar with addiction and rehabilitation?” he asks.
“No, but I’m very familiar with abandonment and trust issues and the number that they do to your head. Depending on your coping mechanism, when you’re faced with those issues again, you tend to want to revert back to those bad habits as a way to anesthetize those feelings of hurt and betrayal. Although I wasn’t an alcoholic, liquor was one of my many unhealthy numbing tactics,” I admit. He nods.
“I think you’re more familiar than you think, Mr. Grey,” he says. “I pulled you aside because Chuck admits that he was well on his way to taking a drink tonight before Jason called me. Usually when someone else calls me, either my charge is in really bad shape or too ashamed to call me because they’ve already fallen off the wagon. So when Jason told me that he was calling for Chuck, I was expecting to find him face down with a bottle next to him. Once Anastasia was doing the talking and told me it was a bloodbath, I realized that there were two other people involved and I totally prepared myself for the worst. Then I got here and he’s clinging to Keri like a fucking lifeboat, and I’m like, ‘okay, there’s three… he had to take a drink.’ When he announced that he didn’t, but he wanted to, I have to tell you, I was completely shocked.” He pulls his gloves onto his hands and pulls out his keys.
“I wanted to get you alone to tell you that he really was going to take a drink not long after his brother left. He was ripped apart all back over again and he relived all of the feelings that made him drink in the first place all back over again just like you said. He said the thing that made him not do it, the one person that made him understand that he couldn’t touch the bottle again… was you.” My eyes widen.
“Me?” I ask bemused. Not the woman whose life he saved? Not the woman who was clinging to his arm like life? Not the man who threw out his brother out and threatened to kick his ass? Me? How me?
“He said that you said something to him that you had never said before. He said that he had seen a side of you that you never shown anybody and he couldn’t let you down. He said that you let him know that he could overcome this thing, but it was going to be hard as shit and that’s why he needed back up and he needed it fast. He said that if he had taken a drink, then fifteen years of work would have been in vain and he couldn’t let himself down that way, and he couldn’t let his new family down that way. You need to know that what a patient says to a sponsor is held in the strictest of confidence, and the fact that he gave me permission to tell you this means quite a bit. I’ve never seen him with this kind of support system. It makes me feel good, like he’s going to be okay.”
That’s a big responsibility to lay on someone’s lap, but I understand why he had to do it… and I’m glad that he did. I proffer my hand to him again.
“He is,” I assure him. “Thanks for everything.”
“Sure thing, Christian,” he says as he leaves and I close the door behind him. I walk back to the family room and Jason is still sitting on the sofa. I plop down next to him and take the first deep breath I’ve taken all day. I open my eyes and look at the ceiling.
“Butterfly says she asked someone else about the layout of the house. Was it you?”
“Yeah,” he responds,
“What did she want to know?” I ask.
“Where all the exits were,” he says. Oh, that. I nod. “And the fact that you didn’t find that strange lets me know that I was right not to ask what that was all about.” I wave him off.
“He’s really going to need our help,” I say.
“Yes, he is,” Jason confirms. “Did you mean what you said? Will you be there for him, too?”
“Yes, I did, and yes, I will,” I reply. “I don’t make it a habit of saying things that I don’t mean.”
“Well, you did say there was this whole employer/employee line thing…”
“Yeah, and how is that working out for you, smartass?” I interrupt him. He chuckles quietly.
“I want to ask you a question,” I say. “That day in my office, with the shooting, I was thinking. I know you couldn’t push me out of the way because the lack of inertia on your body would have made you a standing target…”
“Yeah, we talked about this,” he says bemused.
“I know, but if you had hit me low—like in the side—we might have both missed the bullet.”
“Maybe,” he says almost immediately, “or maybe it would have hit one of your not-so-vital organs like it did me. More likely what would have happened is that I would have given you a kidney shot that would have left you writhing in pain, which would have let the sick bitch know that you weren’t dead yet. So while I’m trying to recover, get up, and get to her, she would have gotten off another shot—most likely on me first to keep me from getting to her, then on you to finish the job. Then we would both be dead.”
“Yeah, but once she hit you, Butterfly took her down,” I protest.
“Well, that’s a contingency that I didn’t account for. I saw that little ball of fire when that woman was unarmed, but I didn’t know what to expect when she was carrying a gun. Somebody had to take a bullet.” Fuck, he’s saying it. He’s saying that he knew somebody had to be shot, so he decided that it had to be him. “It was as much self-preservation as it was self-sacrifice, sir. She hit me in the shoulder instead of killing me.”
“Yeah, if you say so. You didn’t know that she wouldn’t hit you in a vital organ.” He shrugs.
“It’s a calculated risk,” he says. I nod.
“My point exactly. You could have just stayed behind the wall. All of those explanations would have held up in court that you couldn’t save me without getting hurt yourself.” He does that half frown/half smirk.
“Yeah, there is that,” he says, non-committal. I shake my head. He had other options, but he took the one that put himself the most at risk to give me the best chance for survival.
“I’m going to check on Chuck,” I say and walk toward the elevator. Butterfly has hit the nail right on the head. He had another option, but he chose to put himself directly in harms way to save me.
“Hello, Chtistian,” Keri steps aside and invites me into the guest suite.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I say as I enter.
“Not at all. He’s doing much bettah nah.”
“I’d like to speak to him for a few moments alone, if that’s okay with you,” I say.
“Ah, yes, dat’s fine. Tell Chatlez I goh upstehs. I see you in ah few minutts,” she says with a smile and leaves. I go back to the bedroom and the door is open. Chuck’s eyes aren’t red anymore. His hair is combed and he has changed into an ACDC T-shirt. His face looks a bit strained and I can tell that he’s holding his breath. That’s good. That means that his lungs are getting stronger and his ribs aren’t in as much pain as they were before. I wait for him to release the breath he’s holding before I knock on the door and disturb him. He turns to me.
“Hey,” he says, wheeling over to the door. “Come in.”
“I don’t want to interrupt you. You can finish if you want.”
“That was my last one,” he says. “I’m holding more air in my lungs. The doctor is going to be really pleased when he sees me again.”
“I’m sure he will,” I say. “Can I sit for a minute?” Chuck laughs.
“It’s your house, man,” he says. I have to chuckle myself at that.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I reply. “I just wanted to ask you a question. The night of the accident—you could have minimized damage to yourself and the car if you had just punched the gas. Why didn’t you do that? I mean, the way I see it, Butterfly would have been hurt either way, but you could have spared yourself some serious injury by moving yourself out of the way of immediate impact. Did that ever occur to you?” He shrugs.
“Christian, I can’t lie to you. I saw the car coming and I thought immediately of Ana. I knew that car was going to hit us no matter what I did. I didn’t have time to analyze level of damage, point of impact, least amount of casualty, nothing. I had seconds to react… seconds! And all I could think of was ‘protect Ana.’ I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing…”
“No,” I say choking on my words a bit. “You did the exact right thing.” I swallow hard. “I meant what I said. We’ve got your back. We won’t let you down.”
“I know you did, Christian,” he says. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to say something in the heat of the moment, plus…” he trails off. I look up at him.
“Plus, what?” I ask.
“You’re calling me Chuck.” I nod.
“Yeah, there is that.” I rest my arms on my thighs and entwine my fingers. “We’re the same guy, Chuck. We’re both fighting every day for control over our monsters. Thank God, I’ve got help. I’ve got my Butterfly. She keeps the monsters at bay, and she does a damn good job of it. Just her presence gives me peace. You… you’ve got Keri… but…” I trail off.
“Yeah, but,” he concurs, without saying another word.
“Have you two considered something more permanent?” I ask. He twists his lips and rests his head on his hand in that way that Butterfly does when she’s contemplating something.
“I thought about it, but I would be doing it for all the wrong reasons. I would be doing it just to keep her in the States, not because I wanted to spend my life with her and that’s not fair. She’s got a life, she’s got a job, she’s got friends back in Anguilla. She would be leaving everything she knows. I can’t do that to her.”
“You don’t want to spend your life with her?”
“We don’t know,” he answers honestly. “We know that we want right now. We know that we want a long time—years, maybe. We don’t know that we want forever. We don’t know that we want her to leave her life in Anguilla and I definitely don’t want to leave the States. To that end, we just have to be diligent. We have to see each other as often as we can… and those passports are going to get a real workout.” He laughs nervously. “Although after my current medical leave is over, I don’t see me taking any time off any time soon.”
“You know we would always work something out for you to be able to see Keri,” I tell him.
“I know,” he says, “but when I’m off, Ben’s my stand-in. I get the feeling that Ana doesn’t really like him that much.” I frown.
“What gives you that idea?” I ask.
“She asks questions about what I do and how I do it. She constantly saying ‘he’s not you, he’s not you…’” He mimics Butterfly’s voice—badly, I must say.
“Do you think it’s anything to be concerned about?” He shakes his head.
“If it was, I’m sure she would tell me. I think it’s just the fact that you get accustomed to the way one person does things and then someone else comes along and does them differently, that’s all.” I can relate to that. I hate when Jason is sick or off for some reason, which rarely happens for that specific reason.
“Yeah, I get that, but don’t let that stop you. If you need the time, just ask.” He nods.
“We’ll be okay,” he assures me. “I’ll be okay, Christian.”
“That’s all I want,” I tell him. “I’m not getting soft, don’t get me wrong, but that woman upstairs called you her brother. The only other person she has ever referred to as her brother is Allen. That means you’re important to her, and that makes you important to me. If something happens to you, she’s not happy. If she’s not happy, I’m not happy and I want to be happy. Not only that, but she means the world to me—without doubt, unquestionably, the whole world. If it weren’t for you, she would be dead.” I hold my head down and try to compose myself. My wife… dead… hard limit. I said it in Anguilla, but it was hypothetical then. It was a real possibility only a month ago, and because of this man, it was not a reality.
“Because of you, she lived,” I choke. “Because of you, she’s here. You saved her life. I owe you the world.” I raise my eyes to his. “Please don’t take advantage of it.”
I feel weak. I’ve never felt this weak. Maybe I am getting soft, but he saved my Butterfly, my lifeline, my reason for living. He could ask anything of me and I wouldn’t deny him. I know that now. I’ve never been at anyone’s mercy like this except hers. God help me.
“I won’t, Christian,” he promises. “Remember, if you’re not happy, she’s not happy; and if she’s not happy…”
“Nobody’s happy,” we say at the same time.
A/N: Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc., can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/becoming-dr-grey/
New characters are here https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/becoming-dr-grey-characters/
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Love and handcuffs!