Fifty Shades Golden: Chapter 26

Two more chapters after this…

This is a work of creativity. As such, you may see words, concepts, scenes, actions, behaviors, pictures, implements, and people that may or may not be socially acceptable and/or offensive. If you are sensitive to adverse and alternative subject matter of any kind, please do not proceed, because I guarantee you’ll find it here. You have been warned. Read at your own risk.

Explicit details of sex and BDSM scenes from here on out. Some may be hot while others may not be to your taste… and not necessary CG with Ana together. Proceed at your own discretion, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

This ain’t your everyday Christian and Ana story. Don’t expect anything. Just read it as it goes along or go away. 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 new saga continues…


Eric Dane 26


I didn’t get the whole lowdown on sexual activity once I’m released from the hospital, so I’m pretty sure that I’m just going to take it easy until I’m cleared by the doctor. In light of that, I have one last hurrah on Sunday night. I do every freaky thing in the book—anal, deep throat, titty fucks, you name it…

And I don’t come once.

I know it’s a combination of being worried about the surgery—if Mia will be okay, if there’ll be any complications for either of us—and the fact that I still have residual thoughts of Golden.


She let me call her Ana while we were maki… having sex. I don’t refer to her as that anymore.

I let Ronnie know that I’m going to be unreachable for about a month and a half so that she doesn’t think I’ve dropped off the face of the earth. I told her to call me if she needs me, but that I’m really going to be tied up in a very important project. Of course, she gave me a hard time about the pun. I’m really glad that we’re still friends.

I’ve already packed my bag and I’m heading out of the penthouse with Jason when I look back at Mrs. Jones standing in the kitchen. Her hands are clasped together, and her expression is unreadable. She’s clearly concerned. I hand my bag to Jason, walk over to her, and I take her clasped hands in mine.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her with more conviction than I feel. “People do this all the time.” She nods quickly and looks at the floor.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers.

“I’ll need lots of your soup,” I say, trying to lighten the situation. She scoffs a chuckle-sob.

“Yes, sir,” she says again. I kiss her hands and she never raises her gaze to me. I quickly walk out the door with Jason before I get all emotional and lose my nerve.

When I get to the hospital on Monday morning, I have Jason wait in Admitting while I go see Mia. I’ve been here just about every other day to make sure that she’s okay. At first, she was surprised. Now, she’s accepting of it even though I think she may be kind of cautious. I still haven’t told anybody that I’m going to be her donor. Like Ronnie, I tell them that I had some important business that couldn’t be rescheduled.

“Wow, Christian,” Elliot jibes. “You couldn’t put your business on hold for even a minute to make sure your sister is going to be okay?” I ignore him. I could blow his entire world with three sentences right now…

“Why yes, brother, I did in fact put my business on hold to make sure that my sister is going to be okay. I’m her donor since you are somehow physically unfit to donate your kidney. Why don’t you tell us how that came about?”

That’s not the priority right now, however. Mom has that same question in her eyes as I move next to Mia’s bed.

“Hey, Pest,” I say, taking her hand.

“Hey, Lucifer,” she replies with a smile. She’s scared. I can tell.

“You ready?” I ask, sitting on her bed next to her. She shrugs.

“I really don’t have a choice, do I?” she laments.

“We talked about this,” I remind her. “You’re going to come through this okay, and you’re going to take better care of yourself, right?” She nods quickly.

“Right,” she whispers.

“Aw, isn’t this sweet?” Elliot chimes in. “Hell has officially frozen over. Lady Capulet and Lord Montague are playing nice and all we needed was a life-threatening emergency. Go figure.”

“Elliot, stop being such an asshole,” Mia says without looking over at Mom, which she usually does when she curses. I think we all know that she gets a few “gimmes” today.

“So, look, I really have to get going, but I know you’re gonna knock this thing outta the park. Just give it as much hell as you’ve given me.” She smiles weakly.

“Get better,” I say, trying to make a hasty getaway. She raises sad eyes to me.

“Come on,” she begins. “Admit it. Your life would be a whole lot simpler without me.” Her voice is maudlin with a touch of that sarcasm I know so well.

“Of course, it would,” I reply with a half-smile, “but I don’t want you to die… because it would also be quite boring.” I fight the urge to hug her. I’m sure that I’ll spill my guts if I do. “I gotta go, Pest. I gotta see a man about a dog.”

“Of course, you do,” she says, her sarcasm returning. She drops her head again and I can’t resist. If this doesn’t work out right, I may not see her alive again. I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. She raises surprised eyes to me that quickly soften when we make eye-contact.

Yeah, sis, I may not like you that much, but I do love you.

“What’s your hurry, bro?” Elliot taunts. “What could possibly be more important than your sister’s health?” I turn a hateful glare to him.  I could destroy him in front of everybody right now with the information that the doctor insinuated and come out the hero for giving up a perfectly functioning piece of my body to a woman who obviously hates me… well, hated me, but I don’t do that.

I don’t know how long I stand there glaring at him, but I watch as his expression changes under my cold stare. I don’t have time to play this game with him. I have to go and get checked in myself.

“Nothing,” I nearly growl in response, and I’m about to prove it when you can’t, you asshole. I leave the eerily silent room and, as usual, Elliot has to have the last word. He just wasn’t brave enough to say it in my face.

“Then, why are you leaving?” he yells out of the room. “She could die, you know!” I hear my mother scolding him.

“I’m aware of that, Asswipe,” I say lowly to no one. “That’s what I’m trying to prevent.”

I walk slowly down the hall and press the elevator button to head to admissions, pretending that this isn’t the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life.


You get this drunk, hungover feeling without the headache when you wake up from anesthesia. My mouth feels like cotton and my throat stings a bit.

“Mr. Grey, you’re awake,” some nurse says. “That’s good. Let me get some readings from you and the doctor will be in shortly.” I smack my chops trying to create some saliva in my arid mouth.

“Dry mouth?” she asks. I nod. “We’ll get you some water for that.” She marks something on her chart and leaves the room. I look around and see that I’m in what looks like a common recovery room. Well, I don’t like that.

“Sir?” I slowly turn my head and Taylor is walking into the recovery room. “Just checking on you, sir.” I gesture my hand around the room. “They’re going to be moving you to a private room soon, sir.”

Yeah, soon. The last thing I want is for my parents—or heaven forbid—Elliot or Mia to see me in here.


My facial expression must have given it away.

“No one knows we’re here, sir,” he says, “so I haven’t been able to get any information on your sister.” I lay my head back on the pillow. I don’t even want to open my mouth.

“Mr. Grey, how do you feel?” The next voice I hear is a large black man in scrubs—our doctor. I open my mouth and point inside.

“You’re hungry?” he asks. “That’s new.” I make a gesture like I’m drinking something.

“Oh, you’re thirsty,” he says. “Well, that’s good. We’ll get you some water.” Like an angel from heaven, the nurse comes back with a picture of ice water and looks at the doctor for approval. He nods and she hands me the small picture.

“Small sips, Mr. Grey,” she says while helping me raise my head. My tongue and throat are saying, “That’s not gonna happen,” but when I get the straw to my mouth, my strength says, “Small sips.”

“Your stats are looking really good, Mr. Grey,” the doctor says. He shines that infernal light in my eyes, and I blink and glare at him. He does a couple of other things to test my reflexes and such. When my throat feels better and my head is slightly clearer, I’m able to form a word.

“Mia,” I say, my voice rough. The doctor looks up at me and raises his brow.

“It looks really good, Mr. Grey,” he says. “She’s tired as you would expect. Her resistance and immune system aren’t as strong as yours with the dialysis, but she’s looking good.”

I nod. The last thing I want is for her to go downhill, especially since part of me is inside her now.

A while later, I’m hungry and cantankerous, and I want to go to a private room. I’m tired of laying in this bed and I want some food. I’m wearing a catheter and I fucking hate it. After enough bellyaching, either they finally got my room ready or the squeaky wheel got the oil.

I’m in a wheelchair and Taylor is rolling me down the hall with the nurse walking close by—not my nurse, but a nurse. The minute we exit the recovery unit, I hear it before I see it. It’s the unmistakable raucous of the press. What the hell are they doing inside the hospital? The moment we round the corner, I see them, a cluster of them trying to get into one of the rooms. I’m only glad the poor bastard in the room ain’t me. I make to hide my face until I see something that causes me to cringe.

“What are you doing here? Get away! This patient has had major surgery and is trying to recover. What’s wrong with you people? How did you even get in here?”

That’s my doctor demanding that these vultures cease and desist. My doctor… Wait a minute! Does that mean…? He turns around and sees me in the wheelchair about 50 feet from him and his brown skin turns white. His expression tells me everything I need to know.

That’s Mia’s room.

And suddenly, I feel no pain… just pure rage.

I’m up out of that chair and storming down the hall before anybody can stop me. The catheter bag is dragging on the floor behind me and I don’t know what disconnected. Somewhere along the way I get my hands on a crutch from God only knows where and bellow at these fuckers as loud as I can… which turns out to be pretty loud for a guy who just gave up a kidney.

“Move the fuck outta my way!”

My voice carries over the clamor of the reporters and they all stop. A nurse rushes down the hall and moves to assist me.

“Get your hands off me!” I demand, and she nearly leaps away from me, startled. “How the fuck did they get in here?” I roar. “This is a goddamn hospital! Why the fuck are they here?”

“I… I don’t know, sir…”

“Get security and the police on the phone and do something!” I turn back to the press. “Get the fuck away from her room or I’ll start swinging crutches and anything I can get my hands on.”

“And we’ll sue you for everything you have, billionaire boy,” one of the reporters says.

“Good luck convincing a judge about a man in the hospital in a gown hours after giving his sister a kidney!” I raise the crutch and they begin to back away, enough for me to get into Mia’s room.

I walk in and there’s a nurse smiling for the cameras over a sleeping Mia.

“You!” I bark, and another nurse nearly jumps out of her skin. I read her badge and commit her name to memory. “I’m going to have your fucking life in the palm of my hands. Kiss your career goodbye!” With the crutch at the ready, I start swinging. Fuck a warning—I’ll blame the meds.

“Get the fuck outta my sister’s room!” I demand. The crutch cuts through the air and the crowd leaps back, Dammit, I missed every one of them. Now, I want blood. I swing again, but these bastards are fast.

“If I see one picture of me or my sister in the press, you will all sorely regret it! I promise you that!” I swing again and connect with a wall. Pain rings through my hand and wrist and shoots up my arm… the bad arm. Fuck, I forgot about that thing.

The crack of the metal crutch against the wall was enough to clear the room, except for the petrified nurse.

“You inconsiderate, hateful, selfish, heartless bitch!” I seethe. She takes a step back as I walk toward her. “How could you? How could you violate her privacy that way? She’s unconscious! Totally indisposed! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I’m angrily pointing at Mia to illustrate her helpless condition and when I throw a glance at her, she’s looking at me. I’m shocked to see her eyes open.

“Mia?” I squeak, caught off guard by her gazing at me.

“Chr… Christian…” she says weakly. “Wh… what are you… doing here?”

That’s right. She doesn’t know that I’m the one who gave her the kidney.

“I…” As soon as I try to formulate the words, something happens. My head gets fuzzy and starts to spin and I feel weakness in my body. I think I say something, I don’t know, but suddenly, all I see is darkness.


When I open my eyes, my head feels like lead. I can feel that irritating oxygen tube in my nose and I can’t move a muscle. My body weighs a ton. I’m trying to focus—it looks like I’m in a different room—more machines, more IV bags, more fucking tubes. Whatever happened, I ain’t gettin’ up no time soon.

I turn my head and try to focus on the form sitting next to my bed, but I can’t make it out for shit. Nobody but Taylor should know that I’m here, so maybe it’s a nurse.


Mia knows I’m here now. She probably knows that I’m the one who gave her a kidney. So, there’s no telling who this is by my bed. I try to focus my eyes a little more, but it’s hard as hell. I can tell by the fuzziness that they’ve got me on some drugs. I fight harder to focus, and the blob begins to take form. These must be some really good drugs because that woman looks like Golden.

This is so unfair. When I’m at my weakest and can’t clear my mind enough to fend off thoughts of her, she haunts me in my drug-induced haze.

“Go away,” I manage. Maybe if I can fully wake up, I can make the apparition disappear.

“What?” Oh, dear Lord, and it speaks, too.

“Go away!” I say again. Haven’t you hurt me enough?

“I hurt you?” it asks. Did I say that aloud? Of course, I didn’t. Hallucinations are all in your head, so of course they can read your mind. I close my eyes and try to make her disappear. “I warned you not to fall in love with me, Chopper.”

Chopper. Fuck. I forgot all about that name.

“And as far as I knew, I didn’t,” I retort weakly, “but I like you enough to be confused. Now go away and stop haunting me.”

“Haunting you?” it asks. “What do you mean haunting you?

Oh, for fuck’s sake! I swat at the apparition, hoping it will dissipate and leave me the hell alone. A manicured hand reaches up and catches my wrist, stopping it cold before it gets anywhere near the apparition.

The apparition… what the fuck?

I glare at the hand, then into the face of one very angry madam.

Oh, hell, the haze is clearing up now!

I have no idea what expression is on my face, but whatever it is, hers morphs from anger to sheer confusion to questioning uncertainty. I, on the other hand, haven’t cleared the haze enough to know where or when I am, but I know one damn thing for sure.

“Mi… Mistress??”



So, from what I can see, Linc is the primary suspect in his wife’s murder and the prosecutor’s office is looking for an indictment. This is a high-profile case, and they’re pressed to solve it.

The coroner’s report was gruesome. Elena died from blunt force trauma. The thing is… she didn’t just get cracked over the head and die. Somebody beat the hell out of her—brutally. The medical examiner is a friend of mine from college, and she gave me all the gory details.

Blondie was beaten and kicked and strangled mercilessly. Her body was bludgeoned so badly from head to toe that some of the strikes actually broke the skin on her body. Her face was so swollen that she was nearly unrecognizable. Although she was identified at the crime scene, her identity had to be officially confirmed by fingerprints and dental records.

After all of that, she took 15 blows and kicks directly to her head. That’s what killed her. The bleach was a means to clean the body of DNA and evidence. So far, it’s been pretty effective. However, since they discovered that Linc had motive, they’ve been on his ass, combing his financials, tracing his every step to pin it on him. His passport has been revoked—not seized, revoked. He can’t even go to Canada or Mexico. He even tried to move back into his house, but the police have it sealed off as a crime scene… even after all these months.

I really hope he did it—not because I’m that macabre or because I want to see him go down, but because they’re combing the very hairs in his asshole to find evidence against him. If they find out that he’s guilty, then he deserves it. If they don’t find anything or it turns out that someone else did it, he’ll be the victim of the biggest and worst persecution campaign I’ve ever seen in my life.

While spending the holiday with my father’s family—my family—I discovered that Reynard approached them first. I knew he had approached Richard, but I didn’t know he had approached the entire family. He displayed about the same amount of grace, poise, and tact with them as he did with me. Except for that empty shit he said leaving my house, he hasn’t made any real threats. Nonetheless, even though the Blondie threat is no longer an issue, I still keep Jesse around.

I come home one day after another big win and a heavy fee being transferred to my account to Blake preparing a delicious dinner.

“Well, this is wonderful,” I say.

“I’m sure you closed Hamilton and Ryers successfully, Mistress,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I did,” I say, trying to see what he’s preparing.

“Make yourself at home, Mistress. I will set the table.”

I change into jeans and a sweater and I return to the dining room. We have a delicious meal of gazpacho with pa amb tomàquet, paella, empanadas, and homemade churros for dessert. He tells me about his day while we eat, that his whore ex-wife has finally sold the house to a nice family, which means that the home will be used as it was intended at last. I tell him about the cocky male corporate lawyers who underestimated me once again. We’re toasting to my success when he rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone.

“I apologize, Mistress,” he says. “It’s incessant.” I try not to be irritated as he pulls out the phone and looks at it. He frowns, looks at me, then back at his phone.

“What?” I say.

“It’s nothing, Mistress,” he says, and puts his phone on the table. He begins to clear the dishes from the table, and his phone buzzes again… and again… and again.

“Blake, what is it?” I ask again.

“It’s nothing,” he says, putting his phone back in his pocket without looking at it.

“It’s clearly something. Your phone is buzzing like a ticking timebomb, now what is it?” His expression is a combination of melancholy, regretful, and angry… which is some fucking combination.

“What do you hear of Christian Grey these days?” he asks, and I’m totally taken aback to the degree that I jerk like someone just hit me.

“Are you telling me that your phone is going batshit because of Christian Grey?” I ask, nearly in horror. Blake doesn’t respond. “Who in the fuck is texting you like a goddamn crackhead over Christian Grey?” I ask sincerely irritated.

“They’re not texts, Mistress,” he confesses. “They’re more like… notifications.”

Notifications? What the… Never mind.

“I hear nothing of Christian Grey these days,” I say, pretending that I’m not fucking dying to know what those damn notifications are all about. “And I really don’t want to,” I add for effect.

“Mistress,” he sighs, “there’s something you should know.”

“What?” I ask, impatiently.

“It’s about Mr. Grey.” I roll my eyes.

“Look,” I begin. “I thought we had this conversation. Trey is no more. He doesn’t exist to me and I really don’t want to hear about him. What is your obsession with this man?”

“Permission to speak frankly, Mistress,” Blake says coolly.

“Not if you’re going to disrespect me,” I retort.

“I would never do that, Mistress, but I am going to say something that you may not want to hear.” I cross my arms. Fine, fire away.

“Permission granted,” I say firmly.

“He does exist,” Blake says. “He’s a walking, breathing person right here in the county where you live. He has affected you and although you may deny his existence, he’s alive and kicking and still on this side of eternity. He has permeated that shell that you’ve erected for everyone else that doesn’t work with me. I know you care for him and that he has affected you and you think of him often because you’ve changed—not enough for anyone else to see, but enough for me.”

I’ve changed alright. I’ve changed back to who and what I was before I met Trey—to that sadistic, hedonistic goddess that has my clients clamoring for me. There’s not a damn thing wrong with that.

“Are you finished?” I shoot.

“Not quite,” he says softly. “You’re right. I am obsessed with Christian Grey—the same way that I’m obsessed with Caldwell Lincoln, Reynard Stamper, Kevin Sheardon, and the same way that I was obsessed with the late Richard Steele and Elena Lincoln. I’m obsessed with these people only to the degree that they affect you. And he affects you, so I just keep tabs on him from time to time.”

“Well, there’s no need,” I say flatly. “I’m fully aware of Christian Grey’s new love interest and it doesn’t affect me,” I say with more conviction than I feel.

“Well, that’s good to hear, but you may be interested in knowing that he’s not with his new love interest anymore. The relationship didn’t last three weeks. They’re good friends now, but not lovers.”

Are you kidding? I don’t talk to the man for months and he hooks up with someone for three weeks—three fucking weeks—and I see them during that damn three weeks? That shit knocked me completely off my square, made me totally doubt everything I was and everything I felt, and they weren’t together for three fucking weeks. This is why I don’t get attached. That shit is too damn messy.

“Well, I’m sorry for him that his relationship didn’t work out. This has nothing to do with me, and I’m weary of this conversation.” I turn to leave.

“One more thing before we conclude… please, Mistress.” I roll my eyes and turn back to my errant submissive. If it were the nature of our relationship, I would chain him to the ceiling and lash him until he wept.

“Yes?” I seethe.

“Are you at all familiar with the term nephrectomy?” I frown.

“No,” I reply, waiting for him to get to the point.

“It’s the procedure where one of your kidneys is removed.” My eyes widen.

“What?” I say just above a whisper. “Are you trying to tell me that Christian has renal failure?”

“No, but his sister does, so he donated one of his kidneys to her.” He pauses. “I’m still a little gray on the details—no pun intended—but something happened, and he’s had some complications. He’s not doing well.”

I suddenly feel my throat constrict. Something’s happening in my chest and I feel a bit lightheaded. My arms fall to my side as I attempt to appear unaffected.

“What hospital is he in?” I ask.

“Seattle General,” Blake informs me. I take a deep breath and purse my lips.

“Send some flowers,” I say before turning and leaving the room.

“Yes, Mistress,” I hear from the room I just left. I ascend the stairs, go into my bedroom and close my door. I almost can’t breathe. Christian is in the hospital, he’s short one kidney, and he’s having complications. What kind of complications? Why didn’t I ask that question before I left the room? What if he doesn’t make it? Will I be okay? I said that he didn’t exist to me, but is that what I really want? What if he really didn’t make it? What if he dies?

What was that you said about not getting attached?

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and grab my car keys.


“He hasn’t had any visitors,” the nurse says. She didn’t want to give me any information, but I effectively convinced her that I’m close friends with him and just wanted to make sure that he was okay. “He didn’t list anyone as next of kin except his bodyguard, Jason Taylor. His sister didn’t even know that he gave her a kidney until the anesthesia wore off and she’s been in no condition to come and see him, so…” She trails off. Even though she didn’t give me everything, she may have still given me too much information.

“I’ll make sure that his family knows,” I tell her. She raises a brow at me.

“You’re associated with the family?” she asks. I nod.

“I know his father very well,” I tell her. “We’re colleagues.” She looks at me skeptically.

“The judge?” she questions.

“Yes,” I say, reaching into my purse and giving her a business card. “Like I said, we’re colleagues.” Her expression softens as she reads my business card.

“Oh,” she says. I’m startled by a somewhat familiar voice down the hall.

“Ms. Olivet?” I turn to see that a confused Taylor is coming down the hall with two coffees in his hand. I turn to the nurse.

“Thank you,” I say with a nod.

“You’re welcome,” she says softly. I walk towards Taylor.

“How is he?” I ask when I close the space between us. At first, he doesn’t answer. “Taylor? How is he?”

“He…” he begins. Then he breezes past me to a door where another guy is standing. He hands him one of the coffees, then peeks into the room. Expressionless, he comes back over to me and gestures me to a community waiting area.

“Have you seen him?” he asks.

“No,” I reply. “What’s happening? I know that he gave a kidney to his sister.” He looks at me in surprise. This must have been the world’s best kept secret if his family didn’t know—not even the sister who received the kidney. Taylor is looking at me now no doubt wondering how I found out. Don’t look at me; I’m trying to figure out how Blake found out.

“Taylor, please tell me before my imagination starts running away with me,” I beg, trying not to sound too desperate.

“He had some trauma only hours after he left surgery,” he begins. “Right before they were to remove the catheter, he discovered that the press was in his sister’s room. An unscrupulous guard apparently colluded with an equally unscrupulous nurse and… the rest is history. Mr. Grey physically kicked them out of Mia’s room and collapsed shortly thereafter. Apparently, once his adrenaline dropped, he succumbed to his condition. There was some tearing, some internal bleeding, something about a fistula or something… They had to take him back to surgery. He… he’s been out for three days. He’s not comatose, but he should be awake by now.”

“And you haven’t called his family, Taylor?” I scold. “Really?” He avoids my gaze. “I know Carrick Grey,” I tell him, and his eyes rise to mine.

“For God’s sake, Taylor, he may not wake up! If you don’t tell his family what’s going on with him, goddammit, I will. And I think they would rather hear this from someone that they’re somewhat familiar with than a total stranger, but if you can’t do it, I guarantee you that I can have Carrick Grey’s home number in twenty minutes.” I sit there folding my arms. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ll call his mother,” he cedes.

“You better,” I warn. “I’ll put my guy on getting that number just in case.”

“I’ll call her,” he says like an errant child, and I believe him. I nod.

“Can I go in and see him… or should I just leave?” He twists his lips and shakes his head.

“I really don’t know,” he says. “He’s… different lately… even before the surgery.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Go,” he says, scrolling through his phone. “Go in before I lose my nerve to make this call.” He puts the phone to his ear, and I walk to the door that I assume is Christian’s. “Ms. Olivet?” I turn back to him.

“If I find myself unemployed, I’ll be knocking at your door for a job.” I have to suppress a smile as he turns back to his call. “Mrs. Grey?… Hello, ma’am, this is Jason Taylor… Yes, Christian’s security…” I leave him to his call and make eye contact with the guy standing at the door before I go inside.


I’m not prepared for the sight that greets me. He looks weaker and more helpless than I’ve ever seen him. There’s a tube down his throat helping him breathe and he’s attached to more machines than I’ve ever seen on one person. Jesus, is he dying?

I sit next to his bed and say nothing. What can I say?

Hiya Chopper, remember me? I was your Domme once, but we had sex and it blew my mind. I didn’t know how to handle it or you, so I cut you off, but now that I think you might be dying, I’m back. So, how the hell are ya?

I sit there for several minutes, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor. It’s comforting… somewhat. At least he’s still here.

He’s still here…

“He does exist. He’s a walking, breathing person right here in the county where you live. He has affected you and although you may deny his existence, he’s alive and kicking and still on this side of eternity. He has permeated that shell that you’ve erected for everyone else…”

How do I deal with this? I’m not satisfied anymore with this life. I want… something else. But this? Can I give up who I am for this? Do I want that? Does he even want that?

My thoughts are interrupted by the door opening, followed by the ceremonious entering of what looks like doctors and nurses.

“His numbers look better and his saturation… Who are you?” I stand from my seat.

“I’m… a friend,” I reply.

“Mr. Grey asked not to have any visitors,” the doctor says firmly.

“It’s okay,” Taylor says coming into the room behind the doctors and nurses. “Ms. Olivet, if you’ll come with me, the staff need to do some things for Mr. Grey.” He holds his hand out to me. I look back at Christian and weave through the inquisitive faces with an “excuse me” or two before joining Taylor.

“What’s going on? Can you tell me?” I ask as we walk toward the community area again.

“Well, the good news is that his stats are looking better,” Taylor says, guiding me past the community area and to the elevator. Is he kicking me out? “They want to remove his catheter and his breathing tube.”

I sigh and try to appear unaffected… again. The elevator rings and he gestures for me to get inside. I want to say something like, “Tell him I was here,” or “Don’t tell him I was here.” Instead, I just step inside. To my surprise, he steps inside with me.

What does he think? That I’m going to troll around the hospital or something? He presses the button for the first floor and continues what he was saying.

“The bleeding has stopped from what they can see, but there were some other complications that went way over my head. It was touch and go for a while, but any improvement is better than unconscious for three days.”

The elevator rings on the first floor and he gestures for me to exit. I leave and turn towards the outside doors.

“Wrong way, Ms. Olivet,” he says. When I turn around, he’s standing at the elevator gesturing in the opposite direction. I don’t question. I follow him and he leads me to the cafeteria as he continues to apprise me of Christian’s condition.

“Would you like something?” he asks. “Some food or some juice or coffee?” He gets two more coffees and I frown.

“You guys drink a lot of coffee,” I say. “Didn’t you just bring coffee a couple of minutes ago?” He frowns.

“No, I got coffee for us when you went in to see Mr. Grey,” he says, bemused.

“That’s what I said,” I reply, equally bemused. He pauses.

“Do you know how long you’ve been in there?” he asks. I shrug. I don’t even remember what time I got here. His expression softens.

“Would you like a muffin… or a Danish? Something else?” he asks. “A bagel, maybe?”

“Taylor, how long have I been in that room?” I ask him.

“About three hours,” he says matter-of-factly. “There are salads and sandwiches on the other side, or maybe you’d like something hot?”

What the fuck?!?

“Three hours?” I say horrified. “You gotta be kidding!”

“No, ma’am, and I’m certain that very soon, his parents are going to be here.” I roll my eyes and rub my neck.

Don’t get attached. Yeah, sure.

“Do they have corned beef?”


“Taylor, how long has he been like that?”

An older, beautiful blonde woman is grilling Taylor about Christian’s condition. She looks terribly worried and I deduce that this must be Christian’s mother.

“About three days, ma’am,” Taylor replies. “He’s doing much better than he was.”

“Much better?” the woman exclaims. “He was worse? He looks like he’s dying!” My sentiments exactly.

“Please, Mrs. Grey, let me take you to talk to the doctor. I’m certain that he’ll put your fears to rest.” Taylor begins to lead Mrs. Grey away just as the elevator rings.

“Grace!” I hear a familiar voice call.

“Cary,” her voice cracks. I drop my head so that my hair falls over my face and watch through my tresses as Carrick Grey opens his arms to accept his wife in a warm embrace. She weeps gently on his shoulder as he rubs her back and comforts her. The inner me rolls my eyes at the display. The outer me can’t help but gaze at them in awe of their love and care for each other and wonder what it must be like to have that. After more than three decades on earth, I’ve never had that.

Judge Grey puts his arm around his wife, and they follow Taylor down the hall. Goddammit, these feelings! I don’t want these fucking feelings! Why the hell can’t they just leave me alone?

It would be so easy to just stand up, go downstairs, walk the hell out of here and don’t look back. So, why can’t I just fucking do it?

“Ms. Olivet?”

Taylor is rousing me from my sleep. My head feels like a rock and there’s a crick in my neck. I fell asleep in the chair in the waiting room.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s just after 2am,” he says. “My replacements are here and I’m about to call it a night. Why don’t you go home and get some rest now?”

I stretch and look around. The staff appears to have changed and there’s no one in the waiting room.

“Are his parents still in there?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“They’ve gone to see Mia. Then, they’re going home for the night.” I nod.

“I’m confused,” I say. “Why didn’t his sister tell his parents what he did and that he was here?” He shakes his head and sighs.

“They’re a strange family, Ms. Olivet,” he replies. “I couldn’t answer that question for you because I don’t know.” I nod again.

“Maybe I’ll just go in and say goodnight,” I say, standing and cracking my stiff joints. Taylor nods and walks with me to the door. He holds it open and I go inside. Christian looks a lot better now. That tube is gone, and he has the small oxygen tube in his nose. He looks like he’s sleeping now as opposed to dead.

I sit in the chair and gaze at him again. He’s such a handsome man. He looks so peaceful, but still very weak and vulnerable. I’m just feeling sympathy for him, that’s all. It’s nothing more than that. I don’t want him to die and I’m concerned about him. That’s all this is…

“Go away…” I hear a frail voice say. I slip out of my daydream and focus on wet, gray eyes groggily gazing at me.

980x“What?” I ask. I’ve been here for hours worrying about your ass, afraid that you were going to die, sleeping in a very uncomfortable waiting-room chair and your first words to me are go away, you ungrateful asshole?

“Go away!” he repeats. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

Are you kidding? Is he serious? He knew what this was.

“I hurt you?” I ask incredulously. He doesn’t reply. He just closes his eyes tight, like he’s trying to wish me away. “I warned you not to fall in love with me, Chopper.”

“And as far as I knew, I didn’t, but I like you enough to be confused. Now go away and stop haunting me.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Haunting you?” What the fuck? “What do you mean haunting you?

He raises his hand and swats at me like he’s trying to swat away a fly. You disrespectful… I grab his flailing wrist and hold on tight. You better put that thing away. You’re short one vital organ. You want to be short a limb, too?

He stares at my hand grasping his wrist in disbelief, then up at me—and I am pissed. How dare you fucking swing at me, you insolent…

But his face… he’s horrified. It’s like he’s seeing a ghost, or death itself has walked into the room. He’s silent for several moments before he breathes, “Mi… Mistress?”

Oh, shit. How did that happen? Does he regularly talk to manifestations of me? Should I be afraid? Instead, I just sigh and shake my head.

“I’m not your Mistress anymore, Chopper… Trey,” I say, placing his arm gently back on the bed. I only ever really called him Chopper during a scene—maybe a few other times.

“I know… I mean…” His voice is still weak. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you weren’t well,” I say, crossing my legs and girding up my armor, “or I should say I heard that you weren’t doing well.”

“How did you hear that?” he asks. “Are you having me followed?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I reply. “I know people who know people…”

“But no people knew I was in here, so how did you know? My parents don’t even know.”

Somebody knew,” I tell him, “and your parents know now.”

“What?” he shoots, and his monitors spike. I stand and put my hands on his chest.

“You need to calm down,” I tell him. “You became upset and from what I understand, you may have attacked some reporters. You ripped your sutures—inside and out—and you put yourself at risk. A lot of people thought you may not make it. You’ve been out for nearly four days. I know your father—he’s presided over a lot of my cases. I threatened Taylor that if he didn’t call him, I would. Taylor and I both agreed that it would be better that they hear this news from someone that they know as opposed to hearing it from a stranger.”

“Let’s see if he still feels that way when I fire his ass,” he croaks.

“Then, he’ll just come and work for me,” I say, and Christian glares at me. “If I was a mother, I would very much rather come and see my very alive son who may not be doing well than to come to the hospital and identify his remains when I didn’t even know that he was sick, much less that he gave my daughter a kidney.”

“You know too damn much,” he squeaks. You’re right. I do.

“Are you in pain? Do you need any pain meds?”

“Yes, and yes,” he says, laying his head back on the bed. I press the button for the nurse. He tries to adjust himself in the bed, but he can’t move. A few moments later, a petite nurse enters the room.

“Mr. Grey,” she says, her voice bubbly. “Ma’am,” she nods at me and I nod back before she comes to the side of the bed. “You’ve decided to join us. How do you feel?” She looks at his chart and some of the machines.

“In pain… and I’m thirsty,” he croaks. She nods.

“Let me get the doctor and we’ll see what we can get you, okay?” She proceeds to check his pulse and blood pressure, looks at his IV bag and checks some other stats.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Mr. Grey. Your vitals look good and I’ll be right back with the doctor.” She smiles and nods at me again before leaving the room.

Christian and I are completely silent for several minutes. Neither of us knows what to say to each other. When I thought he was dying, I could think of nothing but getting to him, being by his side. Now that I know he’ll be fine, I just want to get the hell away from him—put as much distance between us as possible.

“Mr. Grey, hello. We must stop meeting like this…” The doctor comes into the room and starts talking to Christian, and I take this moment to make my getaway.

“Mi… Go… Ana!” He’s coherent enough to go through all of my names before I make it to the door. He’s still weak and fragile, but his eyes are beseeching. I give him a weak smile.

“I’ll check on you,” I say softly. I turn away and walk out before I lose my nerve and stay. I look at the guard at the door—some guy I don’t know—and he gives me a nod. I turn away and walk to the elevator.

What was the purpose of this exercise? I keep asking myself that question during the entire ride home. I went running to this man’s beside like… like… like he meant something to me. Why the hell did I do that? The minute I saw that he was going to be okay, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. So, why did I go in the first place?

I sit in front of my house for several minutes when I get home. I’m seeing Judge and Mrs. Grey, holding each other warmly in the hospital hallway when they didn’t know what was going on with Christian. It was very tender and loving, and you could tell that they cared for each other very deeply. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be dependent on anybody and I don’t want anybody to be dependent on me… do I? I look at my front door and see Blake there waiting for me to come in. I sigh heavily, open the door and step out of the truck. I close and lock the door behind me and proceed towards the only man in the world who can see right through me.

Image result for eric dane in bed


I should have known. I don’t know why I was surprised. Day one and day two, I watched that door. I asked Taylor if he had heard anything from her or seen her, or even if she asked if I were dead or alive. Nothing. Nothing at all. Day three, I have a lovely showdown with my family… in a fucking hospital bed.

“Christian,” Mom says, her voice pained, “why didn’t you tell us? They just told us that they had found a donor. They didn’t tell us that it was you.”  I can’t come up with an answer for her.

“I asked you,” she accuses. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you, Mom, I avoided the truth,” I defend.

“It’s the same thing, Christian!” she says, fighting back her tears. “I could’ve lost two of my children and I wouldn’t have known until they were gone!” She covers her mouth and turns away. Dad raises his eyes to me.

“This was an incredibly selfless thing that you did, son,” he says, sounding more fatherly than I’ve heard him sound in decades, “and very foolish to do on your own. Your mother needs to know… and I need to know… why?” I sigh and try to rely on divine intervention to give me an answer, but I realize that nothing is going to suffice but the truth.

“I don’t know why Mia hates me,” I begin, “but she does, or at least she did. It can’t just be Harvard. It can’t. There has to be something else. I’ll never find out what that is, but she hated me. If she knew that she was getting my kidney, she might’ve said ‘no’ just to spite me. She would’ve thought I would try to use it to hold over her head, like she would be indebted to me for the rest of her life! And she would’ve said ‘no.’ Then what? She goes back to the end of the list and hopes for another kidney because she turned down a perfectly good one. And then we hope that she finds one before she dies? I couldn’t take that chance. We couldn’t afford for that to happen!”

“Is that what you thought?”

I hear Mia’s voice and look over at the door. She’s sitting in a wheelchair just outside the threshold.

“You thought I hated you so much that I wouldn’t take your kidney?” I sigh. Jesus, she wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I scold.

“No,” she retorts. “I’m doing a hell of a lot better than you because I wasn’t swinging crutches at people three hours after surgery.” Oh, shit, she saw that. “You really thought that, Christian? That I wouldn’t accept your kidney?”

“And once again, the golden boy has to take the spotlight,” Elliot jeers. “You weren’t the only kidney, Mr. Perfect. Did you forget I was a match, too?” God, did he have to use that word? I’m still not 100% sure her visit wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

“Then why didn’t you give your kidney?” I ask. I won’t out him, but if he keeps it up…

“Oh, because billionaire boy beat me to it!” he snaps.

“How was that possible when they tested you first?” I ask. “The doctor told me that I was the perfect match—the perfect choice to save Mia and to extend her life. Now, why would they even need to test me if they had already found a match with you?” Drop it, Elliot.

“Most likely because of his cocaine use,” Dad blurts out. Elliot’s head whips over to Dad and my eyes transform to the size of saucers.

“Dad? Seriously?” Elliot accuses.

“Yes, seriously!” Dad retorts. “I’ve had enough of you walking around here like you’re so goddamn high and mighty. This isn’t about you!”

“Dear God, Elliot! Cocaine?” Mom exclaims horrified. “How long? Never mind! Never mind! I don’t want to know.” Elliot smiles nervously.

“Chill out, Mom,” he says in that slimy voice that he uses to make your skin crawl. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a little nose candy.”

“I’m not hearing this!” Mom says, throwing her hands up. “I am not hearing this.” She turns to Dad. “Carrick? You knew?” Dad sighs.

“Unfortunately, I did,” he says to her before turning to me. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t!” I reply, awestruck. “The doctor wouldn’t tell me, but he was adamant that I was Mia’s best chance of survival even though we were both a match.” Elliot is clearly floundering, so instead of walking that plank that he was standing on and taking his medicine like a man, he decides to shoot a hole in the bottom of the boat.

“Well, since we’re telling secrets,” he says with a devious smile, “I suppose you already know that Christian is into that same shit Dad was into.”

You can actually hear the skin ripping as his knife sinks into the bodies of nearly every person in the room and drags down their torsos, spilling fresh blood onto a sterile floor.

“Wha…?” Mom shrieks. Dad and I quickly look at each other and have a silent conversation about what really needs to be said here. Elliot is looking to drag everybody down with him, even if it destroys Mom in the process.

“Christian, is this true?” Mom shrieks. I screw up my courage and spit it out.

“Yes, Mom, it’s true,” I say impassively, “but Mom, you can’t be angry with me. I’m a consenting adult. This was after Juliet—I wasn’t in a committed relationship, so nobody was hurt. I shielded you, the family, and everybody from it, and if it wasn’t for Chicken Little over there, you still wouldn’t know.”

“How did Chicken Little know?” Dad asks.

“I heard the two of you talking,” Elliot says victoriously, and Mom turns her horrified glare to Dad. Oh, great.

“I asked questions, Mom,” I clarify. “It was no secret that he was familiar with the lifestyle and I was curious. I didn’t want to go wandering off into some crazy cult shit… so I asked.”

Mom looks back and forth between me and Dad, not sure which of us to be angry with more, no doubt, but Elliot’s not done yet.

“Yeah, Dad has dirt on everybody. He’s been holding us hostage for years. So, since my secret is out, let’s lay everybody’s dirty laundry on the table. So, what about the Little Princess over there—Little Miss Throw-Everybody-In Judgment? What’s the dirt on Mia?” Elliot says snidely.

“You just saw the dirt on Mia,” Dad hisses without looking at him, then turns to Mom.

“Mia’s been on dialysis for the last seven years. You’d already been through so much we didn’t want to tell you. Of course, it got to the point where we couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.”

Seven years… dear God. Even I didn’t know that. It wasn’t that she wasn’t taking care of herself. It was just that… she was waiting. It was time.

“Secrets,” my mother chokes through her tears. “Secrets and lies! That’s all this family is built on—secrets and lies!” She runs out of the room in tears. Dad sighs mournfully and looks down at Mia.

“Are you okay?” he says softly. She shrugs.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m glad it’s out. We’ll work on the rest later.” Dad takes her hand and looks over at me. I give him a half shrug to indicate that I’m indifferent about the whole thing, but there are really no hard feelings. He raises angry eyes to Elliot but says nothing. Then he leans down to kiss Mia’s cheek, releases her hand, and leaves the room, most likely to go find Mom. I turn to Elliot.

“Well, congratulations,” he sneers. “You’re the golden boy once again.” And there’s that word. I glare at him.

“You thought I was leaving her hanging for a business trip, and I was shit. You find out that I gave her a goddamn kidney, and I’m still shit.” I just look at him and shake my head.

“Get the fuck outta my room, Elliot,” I say with no emotion. I’m totally done with my brother, and I have nothing else to say on the matter. He gazes at me for a moment, then at Mia who has her back to him and hasn’t raised her head, and wordlessly leaves the room. Mia wheels over to me.

“It’s Harvard, Christian,” she says, placing her hand on the bed on top of mine but still not raising her eyes. “It’s always been Harvard. I resent you… resented you because I didn’t get a chance to go. Everything fell apart between Mom and Dad right after you dropped out, and I didn’t get a chance to go. It was my dream to go to Harvard, and I felt like you took it away from me. I resented you, but I don’t hate you. I never hated you.” She sniffles.

“When I saw you in that room with that crutch, swinging it at strangers and cursing out some nurse with your ass hanging out…” I try not to laugh. That’ll be in somebody’s paper if it’s not already. “… All I could think was, ‘What the hell is he doing here?’ When I finally shook the anesthesia, the doctor told me that you had given me your kidney and that you weren’t doing too well.” Her voice cracks on the last words. I swallow hard.

“You looked so weak every time I came to see you,” she squeaked. “I kept thinking, ‘He gave me the kidney to make up for stealing my chance to go to Harvard.’ I just wanted you to wake up, so I could say ‘thank you’ and ask you why you didn’t want me to know… but when I came in and heard the real reason…” She trails off and begins to weep. I turn my hand over and grasp hers in mine. She’s been crying a lot these days, and I don’t know if I can get used to it. She’s always been outspoken, and she can be a real pill, but I’ve never seen soft Mia.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry. How can I ever make this up to you?” I squeeze her hand.

“By taking care of your body and living a good life… and agreeing to stop all this bickering. I think we’ve both seen that life is too short for this shit.” She nods through her tears.

“And Mia?” She raises her gaze to me.

“You’re smart, you’re resourceful, and you do a good thing. I’m proud of you for chasing the bad guys… but I’m not one of them.” She nods again.

“I know,” she says, still in tears. “I wanted to make you the bad guy, and I found a way through the whole ‘capitalist’ thing, but… I’ve always known.” I nod.

“So… you’ll give your brother a break?”

“This one,” she says, wiping her eyes and I deflate a bit.

“You’re going after Elliot?” I ask, knowing how this will affect our already upset Mom.

“No,” she says. “There’s nothing to go after. I don’t know what he does, and I don’t have the will or energy to chase him down. I’ve always known he was a creep and now—today—I know he’s a drug addict. I don’t see any redeeming qualities and until he shows me some, I have to let that go. Besides,” she strokes my hand gently, “I’ve got some serious bridges to mend on this side of the water.”

I don’t tell her that she never really hurt me; she was just a pain in my ass, but she needs to work through how she’s feeling, and I’ll be there to help her. I’m glad to have my little sister back.

“We’ll get through it,” I say softly, twisting my lips to avoid that twinge in my chest that’s making me feel a bit sappy.

“Christian,” she says just above a whisper, “thank you.” I squeeze her hand again.

“You’re welcome.”


Day four, Mia is my only visitor, and we spend the entire day together, including meals. Day five, we both get to go home. Elliot is M.I.A. as expected. Mom and Dad come to get Mia and Taylor comes to retrieve me. My mother doesn’t speak to me and that smarts. It’s a double-edged sword along with the cat-and-mouse game that Golden keeps playing with me. I get in the car after hoping—futilely—that my mother would at least acknowledge my presence. And suddenly, I’m weak again. I’m weak and I’m tired and even though I spent a week in bed, I just want to get back in bed again.

“Taylor, I need a little help,” I say when we get back to the penthouse. I feel like all the energy has been sapped out of me just by leaving the hospital and getting in the car.

“Do you need a doctor, sir?” he asks. “Should we go back to the hospital?

“No, the doctor said this might happen…” Sudden drains of energy, feelings of emptiness, loss, and depression. I just have a feeling that this isn’t just from the nephrectomy, that it’s quite possibly more emotional than physical.

“Can you just help me get to bed please?”

I put my arm over his shoulder, and he helps me to the elevator.

I spend the rest of that day as well as the next several in my bed. Mrs. Jones brings me meals and Taylor checks on me regularly. I shower each morning and change my pajamas, just to get back into bed and lay there or watch TV or talk to Mia or Ronnie—who reams me a new one once I tell her what really happened.

I deserved that… and she comes to check on me when she can.

The rest of the time, I think about Mom… and her.

Until day ten… when she shows up at my penthouse. She’s like a ray of sunshine showing up in my room and my spirits suddenly soar.

“I… said I would check on you,” she says almost timidly.

“That was more than a week ago,” I reply. “I could’ve been dead.”

“But you aren’t,” she says.

“What took so long?” I ask, really needing to know why she made me wait for ten days.

“I… I was busy,” she says, and I immediately see her whipping some poor, fortunate soul chained to the ceiling in her dungeon.

Cat-and-mouse. She’s playing with me again.

I told you not to fall for me, Chopper.
I’m not your Mistress anymore, Chopper.

Indeed, you aren’t, and suddenly, I’m weary again.

“I need you to leave,” I say, quietly. She’s silent for several moments.

“What?” she asks.

“You can’t fathom the concept that someone wants you to go away, can you?” I ask, wearily. “I said the same thing to you at the hospital—basically the same thing—when I didn’t know it was actually you sitting there, and your reaction was exactly the same. You said, ‘What,’ like you couldn’t comprehend the words that were coming out of my mouth. So, I’ll say them again so that you’ll know that I’m not under the influence of any drugs. I need you to leave,” I repeat, shaking my head and barely believing that I’m hearing myself say it.

“You play with me,” I continue, “I’m one of your toys. You’re a true sadist—you said it yourself. You win—I’m in agony; I can’t take this anymore. You make me want you, but then you say I can’t have you. Then you go away, but you make me want you again. I can’t get you out of my mind. You’re in my blood. I’m pussy-whipped, and it’s not because you fucked me. I was pussy-whipped long before that. I had dreams about you; I saw you in other women before and after you cut me off. It’s always been you and as far as I know, it’ll probably always be you. Fuck, I almost took a damn bullet for this shit!

“You got what you wanted!” I say with clenched fists. “You broke me down after I swore that another woman wouldn’t do that to me. I’m your ultimate trophy! Or maybe not—maybe I’m just another notch in your belt. But congratulations! You win. You really are a sadist—a divine, magnificent, beautiful, horribly cruel sadist. Whoever fucked you up, you got them back in spades—with me! Now, please, just leave before I make a bigger fool of myself than I already have.”

I grit my teeth to keep from saying what I really want to say; to keep from begging her to stay with me if only for tonight. I can’t take this anymore. My emotions are way more involved than I ever intended and it’s just too damn much.


“For God’s sake, just go!” I yell. Her soft, concerned voice is like nails on the chalkboard of my soul—literally. And hearing her say my name smarts even more.

“Please, just go, Ana,” I say softly. “Just go…” I shut her down. I can’t hear her anymore. I don’t know how long I sit there in my bed with my head down, but the next voice I hear…

“Can I get you something, sir?” Taylor says. “Or I can have Mrs. Jones make something for you…” I sigh heavily.

“Something to drink, please,” I say, my voice barely audible. “Maybe some soup, too. My throat hurts.”

A/N: This was one of the chapters that I wrote near the middle of the book when I decided how to expand on the family dynamic. It was very hard to write.

We’re really closing in on the finale. So, remembering the warnings I’ve been spouting all through the story, any predictions at this point on how the story will end?

Will it be a “Your girl is lovely, Hubbell” ending like in The Way We Were?

Will it be the moment when Sayuri finally wins the affections of the Chairman in Memoirs of a Geisha?

Or will it be some calm (or wild) variance in between—The Secretary? Wild Orchid? The Story of O?

Two more chapters to find out…

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You can join my mailing list on the “Contact Me” page. Just click the link and it will lead you to a form to join the list.

~~love and handcuffs

41 thoughts on “Fifty Shades Golden: Chapter 26

  1. naturallyblonde1221 says:

    great as always

  2. valentinesgenie says:

    Loved it I’m happy that Christian’s kidney saved his sister. I’m disappointed in Elliott . The thing between Golden and Chopper I don’t have any idea how that’s gonna end another great chapter see you next time take care.

  3. falalalynx says:


    This is a double tap to my heart. I am so so sad for all of our beloved characters tonight. Way to go Goddess. Peace, Falala

    • falalalynx says:

      Hi ya, After my reread I have a question. Why don’t his parents visit with him again after the big reveal? Yep he lied by omission Mom so what now you aren’t talking to him? I’ll bet they are caring for Mia but all Christian gets is why didn’t you tell me? This is more than dysfunctional this is distorted. Does Momma Grey live in the land of denial or something? And Poppa Grey is her enabler?

      • Junebride says:

        Hi Falala, this is so sad. I agree with you.

        Hi, Goddess, I know we are close to the finish line. This is breaking my heart. We’ve gotten so involved with these characters is like they are family.

        Where are his parents? Has Mia called him? Do they really care about him? Thank God he’s got Taylor and Gail.

        Elliott is a POS. Hope he goes away and hides under a rock. He got everybody’s business out in the open. Sick, sick, sick!!

        Wow, Christian told it like it is (to Ana). Wonder how she feels now. I can’t wait to see how this ends, but don’t know why I have a feeling I’ll be disappointed. Christian is heartbroken, I feel so bad for him. Like I said, my heart aches.

        It was a great chapter, Goddess. So sad though.

      • falalalynx says:

        Hey Junie,

        Delightful to see you girlfriend.
        In my mind I always had to divide this Christian/Trey from the other Christian. They were such different characters. So Trey was Trey and Christian is Christian. grin But then our Goddess wrote that tiny little moment with Trey and Gail where he goes back to reassure her and asks her to make him soup and my heart turned to mush. And I’m now calling him Christian myself. grin And I know how my Goddess loves to throw us for a loop so I actually thought she might have him die after his selfless act towards a sister who has been nothing but a bitch to him. She loves surprises. But our Goddess has said since the very beginning this would not be like other Ana and Christian stories to I have kept that in mind the entire read. I do know one thing for sure I will not be disappointed even if its not what I would have wanted the Goddess has already proven herself and this has been one hell of a story; thought provoking insightful and informative. Gobs of Goddess goodness. lol

        Are you feeling better now Junie? I hope so. {{{HUGS}}}}

        Peace, Falala

      • @falala, some folks may die in my stories, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the heart to kill off Christian or Ana. In some kind of side story, I don’t know, so I guess FSG was fair game for that, but I’m not sure where my mind would have to be to write that storyline.

      • You can tell that with their break-up, it affected the family in the most negative way possible. Carrick was already a cheater with the subs, and Christian didn’t make it any better by holding it over his head and making Carrick initiate him into the BDSM club until Grace finally found out. So, you could say that the roots of the dysfunctional family actually started with Carrick and Christian and their deceit. It just grew and got worse as time went on because Grace in this story is not the strong (sometimes wacky and selfish, but still strong) maternal figure that we’ve become accustomed to. She’s emotionally and mentally fragile and yes, Carrick is enabling her because he doesn’t want to lose her again.

  4. Tina says:

    Great as always. Thanks goddess for the read its great as always. I’ll look forward to the next installment and link.

  5. Kim says:

    I wish I know how it will end but I can’t wait for the suspense to end. For your next story you should write a suspense polar don’t know how to say that in English because I am French but like you know police, FBI or CIA or secret agent. Or just maybe to find someone or something lost. You’re good at the suspense thing. Thank you

  6. Sweet Peach75 says:

    My heart is hurting. Christian and Ana are both in so much pain and turmoil. She should have demanded he listen to her. However, what did she expect when she has been so mean and spiteful to him? Even if they do go their separate ways, Ana needs to make amends and apologize for being such a bitch. They both need to come clean to each other.

    Elliot is a scum bag. He should be ashamed of himself. They are all dysfunctional.

    • Elliot is quite the scumbag. Unfortunately, he is irredeemable.

      As far as Ana demanding that Trey listen to her, you can only kick a dog so many times before he won’t let you touch him again.

    • falalalynx says:

      When I was reading the scene where Christian is taking on the press with the crutch for a moment I thought he might die. And then with Ana’s vigil at the hospital I was truly worried about him. Christian could find out about this through Jason or any of his security. I think they both don’t understand what is happening because neither of them has ever felt like this before.
      Elliot is something I would scrap off my shoe. evil grin

      • Junebride says:

        Hi, Falala, I had the same thought about Christian dying during the operation. Can’t wait for more. Take care.

  7. Sherree says:

    Wow, I didn’t really expect her to be thinking of him and her feelings for him. I don’t know how this will turn out but I know I’ll enjoy it.
    In the last chapter I enjoyed that she connected with her family again and told them the truth. Maybe that’s why she’s questioning her feelings.?.
    Not used to seeing Grey so emotional but it’s heart-wrenching.
    Thanks for the update.

  8. S. Hodgson says:

    Tense ending!!! Omg I’m gonna be sitting on pins and needles waiting for the next chapter. This should be good.

    I love the fact that a Christian went all hospital Rambo on the press 😁 ass hanging out and everything. That was awesome. As was his sweet conversation with Mia. Elliot needs a good smack upside the head though because wow.

  9. Junebride says:

    Oh, Goddess, I can’t let this go….

    Loved how Christian defended Mia and how they talked and “made up.” Where will the relationship in that family go? They seem so dysfunctional, but Christian showed his heart of gold by helping his sister without telling anyone and expecting anything in return. If the press and that stupid nurse wouldn’t have gotten in the way, no one would have known what he had done.

    I believe Elliott is beyond redemption.

    • falalalynx says:

      And the security guard and that nurse need to lose there jobs. Who does things like that? Who takes pictures of unconscious people? Gotta love our Goddess, she creates some real doozies. lol

    • He is. I actually saw something like that happen in a hospital once. I thought the press wasn’t allowed in like that, but they were taking pictures and everything. They can be sued big time for invasion of privacy (the hospital and the newspaper) and some insurances cover that lawsuit, but yeah, I’ve seen it happen. Luckily it wasn’t me or my family.

      • Junebride says:

        Unbelievable something like that could happen. I guess some people have no morals, heart or whatever best name we want to call that. I hope they get sued their asses off, but don’t think there’s time to find out. lol

  10. Lori says:

    Even though your Christian is very flawed, that last scene with Ana was very powerful but heartbreaking. I know you didn’t promise us a HEA but I can hope. His family are so self absorbed they don’t even visit! Unbelievable. I disliked him immensely at the beginning of the story but now find myself rooting for him. Thank you for this amazing story!

  11. LisaKabb says:

    I am sad for both of them.

  12. Lee says:

    Though before I often found myself criticizing Trey, this chapter was very enlightening. I think actually showing how the family treats him allowed me to understand him more, like with Ana in the scene showing Ana crying at the graves. I was frustrated with Trey because he sometimes came across like a man who mainly just valued his next orgasm. Ana served that purpose, and he actually seemed like he was using her too. He kept on saying to Golden “whoever fucked you over” but didn’t make an attempt to understand why she’s so damaged, even just asking Taylor to find out. Maybe it’s because Blake seems a little more proactive than Taylor, idk. I thought, if he’s hurt by her, she’s hurt by her too, even more! But the sad thing was that she didn’t even realize it. It’s like she doesn’t understand the concept of happiness or anything other than survival. But this time, it’s a unique situation with Trey’s emotional state directly affecting his physical health, which Ana does understand. So hopefully that will be her gateway to understanding that others’ feelings do matter, even if she dismisses her own. Also, with Taylor and Ana’s interactions at the elevator and cafe, maybe I’m reading into this too much, but it seems like a sign that they get along well, they may communicate more with each other regarding how Trey’s doing, and Taylor might become 1 more person who understands Ana.

    Trying to look at this objectively, I think it makes sense for Ana to nurse Christian back to health, even if Christian resists in the beginning, understandably so. I honestly think she owes that to him. There are so many “firsts” with this situation: 1) He’s weak, 2) Ana may actually understand that he’s truly hurt with his speech (I think she didn’t really believe before, she thought he’ll just dust her off his mind like she did him and he’d forget about her), 3) Ana may also understand what it feels like to be rejected, 1st time from Christian, so she may feel determined to make amends, 4) we see first-hand that actually Christian has just about a dysfunctional family as Ana’s and he’s pretty much alone besides Mia and Ronnie so they’re quite alike, 5) Taylor seemingly trusting Ana’s opinion/take on what to do with Christian, 6) Ana essentially dropping everything to run to his bedside, maybe that willingness from her indicates she’ll do that again if she understands his well-being is at risk, 7) Ana not showing herself as untouchable to Trey and actually admitting her wrong. Hopefully she’ll actually keep what she learns, not run away again after the end of this situation. She’s a fast learner though. If anything, since she doesn’t respond to emotions well, I think she needs to be appealed to with a sense of logic, and Christian being physically ill provides that opening. I definitely don’t think Ana wants Christian hurt, if anything, she wants him well and strong and himself. Even before in the story, she was very observant of him and thinking of his needs, like the night Trey got arrested. She wouldn’t be like that if she was just his Mistress.

    Like I hope Ana will understand Christian more, I also hope Christian will finally calm down with the time he has now and think about it more, not just allow his feelings and desire to take over, to understand Ana more. i just want to say to Christian, no, she wasn’t playing you, and to claim that with every one of her actions is unfair! Ana’s not his Dom anymore, there’s no reason for her to play cat-mouse. If anything, she’s been hard-core avoiding him. And when Ana came to his hospital room, she didn’t think he’d make it at the time, so there’s no way she could make you want her if you’re not conscious. Yes she played but that was in the context of Mistress, even with other clients. She’s never one to outright hurt anybody. But of course, he’s ill, alone, with no sexual drive to take his mind off things, extremely depressed. I just hope he will come to see it as wow, it’s only been 10 days that I see her again, and not 10 days late – that’s progress, a sign she’s changing! I mean their interactions before were weeks, months apart.

    Speaking of predictions, I try not to believe in luck or omen, but it seems like a break-up happens everytime after they’re intimate. And in some ways, any emotional exchange between them seems intimate. So maybe after he recovers, they’ll be friends but platonic? I do think they’re soulmates, so that’d be a tragic story, they’ll be each other’s HEA since there’s no other else for each other but they’ll also prevent each other’s HEA since they’ll never get together. Of course I personally wouldn’t want this 🙂

    i have to say though, out of all options, an ending like The Way We Were would be the saddest. Aye, 2 chapters from the ending, I can still hope 😛

    Thank you so much for these chapters, I don’t think I can wait till Sunday 😛

    • Lee says:

      Ah, also, I can’t help but notice Ana taking charge there, with Taylor and what to do with Trey’s family. And with her placing her hands on Christian’s chest, idk, but the way the picture came across is she’s naturally so dominant. I almost giggled at that, It’s like her Dom is showing, but in a human way. She’s so much more attractive like that. I hope she can come to associate being a Dom to good things like that and not just being sadistic in the playroom. That could help with her identity crisis.

      Also, the scene with Christian and Ana meeting again at the end, when Christian became weary at the thought of Ana not being her Mistress, kinda made Christian seem, idk, even weirder or more unusual, in the sense that he truly likes being dominated by her. This is a part that I can’t figure out. At first, it made sense if it was just because of the whipping and orgasms because he is single, no close friends, and he finds release through sex. But, I don’t think it’s just in a sexual way. He wanted her to just stay with him for the night, like a companion or friend. I never thought of him as one being clingy or scared of loneliness. I mean I’m pleased that he feels that way, because maybe deep down, he really does trust her to give himself over that way. And he’s also not great at showing emotions, so sexually could be a way of expression for him.

      But maybe, also, he has never felt a sense of belonging or trust with his family, and he feels he’s met his match or partner (or soulmate) in Ana? If this is true, it is pretty consistent with what’s happened because I would’ve thought Ronnie would be the perfect partner for him if he wasn’t so twisted/weird/unusual, they did get along really well. In fact, maybe too well, too positive – I feel like Trey needs someone who also has a “dark side”, or like an edge. But again, I still don’t understand where he gets that need from. I mean, I get Ana, she’s damaged, she feels vindication from making suckers who clam for her. But even Trey said himself that he never felt hurt from Mia’s mistreatment. He also seems indifferent towards Elliot, maybe disgusted, and he just detached himself from his father. So maybe this has no root in any residual damage from said dysfunctional family, maybe it is just Ana? Maybe he desires her that much? Maybe he wants to heal her in a way? This makes the C&A fan in me even jollier 🙂

      Idk what the ending will be like, hopefully they are somewhat happy, but everything just points to them truly being soulmates, though unfortunately not all soulmates end up together.

      • Lee says:

        One last thing, from Ana’s POV, Grace and Carrick’s relationship seemed perfect and lovey dovey, so could it be that Ana’s perception of her parents’ relationship also is inaccurate? That would be understandable since she was so young. Yes their love was pure but there was also a sprinkle of betrayal, lies? If so, maybe this would also help Ana move on. She’d understand that relationships are messy, there’s no such thing as her parents’ apparently perfect relationship. Longing for that and not attempting at anything less is just not realistic. Maybe then she’ll be even more accepting of her own feelings and stop thinking so much.

      • This one I can answer immediately. It’s safe to assume Carla and Ray’s relationship was solid and loving in this story. They were just snatched from her so soon. In addition, I think we all know of more than one relationship that looks all delicious and lovely from the outside and it’s rotten on the inside.

        In an attempt to give what my insight is for Carrick, he’s what I call a beautiful monster, the devil with a pleasing face. He fucked up, but he loves Grace… and ONLY Grace. He adores her dearly and he’s a fair judge on the stand, but everyone else are simply pawns to him, including his children.

      • PART II

        Unless you’re part of the BDSM dynamic, you may never understand what drives someone to participate in whatever way that they do. The more I delve into it, the more I realize there’s so much that I don’t know. I had a joke with my readers on Facebook this week that some of my research this week sent me into the proverbial rabbit-hole, particularly when I stumbled upon the Marquis de Sade (egad!).

        I’ve seen so many people tell me that I had Christian and Ana’s relationship just right (in the Butterfly Saga) and others tell me that I had it all wrong. Luckily for me, I study with people who are active in the lifestyle and I know that the only that that could make ANY BDSM relationship wrong is the absence of consent—the removal of free will. (So, I bite my thumb at those people who kept saying that I had it all wrong—you are not the end-all-be-all experts on BDSM just because you don’t practice the same way my couple does!… But I digress…)

        I scrambled down that tangent to say that, yes, Christian may very well be unhappy with the fact that he’s “lost” his Mistress. Think about all the orgasms he’s had at the simple thought of her whipping him. Think about how he reacted to her kiss and not wanting to wipe the lipstick off his cheek.

        Christian and Ronnie… I’ll just say that I tried to be with my best friend that way, too. Flaming failure for some obvious reasons, but he’s still my split apart after 38 years. Nothing will ever separate us.

        At the risk of making Christian sound cold when we’ve just discovered his feelings, he really didn’t give too much of a damn about anybody in the family but his mother until he found out that Mia was dying.

        What you said about soulmates… absolutely true, because not all soulmates are lovers.

        Once again, EXCELLENT analysis! ❤

    • I love this analysis, I skimmed through it since I’m working, but I’m going to take some time later to reread it. I love the indepth thought you put into it. ❤

    • PART I

      I really enjoyed reading your analysis. I had to take some time to re-read it to give it the attention I felt that it deserved.

      You were right. Trey was a man only concerned with his next orgasm. Of course, he and Ana/Golden served a purpose for each other and to that extent, they were indeed using each other. Trey, however, wanted more from the beginning, but he was settling into the “relationship,” for lack of a better word, that he was getting from Golden. As long as they stuck to the rules, everything was fine for the most part. It was when one or the other strayed from the rules that the problems ensued.

      This kiss wasn’t outside of the rules. Golden had kissed her clients before. However, the kiss with Trey obviously meant more to her and she didn’t want to admit to it or succumb to it. As a result, she began breaking rule after rule after rule somehow feeling that she—as the Dominant and sadist—could write and rewrite the rules at will.

      By the time Trey made the comment about Golden being fucked up, there was really no reason to put any effort into trying to find out why she was so damaged. She had made it clear that she didn’t want to see him, so his justifiable conclusion was that she wasn’t worth any further effort and he just had to get over whatever he was feeling for her. If you remember, she was more affected at the fundraiser by him than he was by her.
      Blake is much more proactive than Taylor because Blake’s relationship with Ana is much more intimate that Taylor’s relationship with Christian. Blake is more like family—a guardian. Taylor is more like a trusted assistant.

      As for Taylor and Ana’s relationship, they’re cordial. They have no reason to be at odds. Ana didn’t do anything to him and vice-versa. They just know each other and have to reason to be rude.

      Unfortunately, Ana has no interest in nursing Christian back to health. She just showed up to see how he was doing and he turned her away because he’s tired of her games. She knows that he’s hurt. She knew he was hurt from the beginning. She just thinks that she can bounce in and out at will because of who she is.
      Taylor wasn’t necessarily “trusting” of Ana’s opinion. She threatened to call the Greys if he didn’t, and she had a point that if they had to hear that he was in the hospital, it would have been better to hear it from someone that they were familiar with.

      You’re right that she’s a fast learner. We just have to see how that plays out.
      Suffice it to say, the fact that she said that she would “be back,” and then she didn’t show up for several days, that actually was playing with him. It’s just like a drug. When you’re under the influence, it’s great! But when the high wears off, you’re back where you started from if not worse. You’re sick, you’re “feening,” you’re probably having withdrawals, and you’re most likely miserable. At some point, you realize that you have to leave that drug alone even though it feels good when you use it. So, yes, he has a right to feel like she was playing with him. He was in the hospital and not well. As far as she knew, anything could have happened in those ten days. To him, that’s exactly what it looks like.

      Two more chapters left… let’s see what happens! 😉

      • Lee says:

        Thank you for the explanation! I guess the simplest way to describe this is these were 2 incredibly cocky, unfeeling assholes, now not so unfeeling, what’ll happen …

  13. seralynsmom says:

    I think this is that defining moment, the one that turns everything completely on its head in a way you never expected. I think he just broke her too, maybe not in that she’s sad and hurt way, but that wall just came tumbling down. The only question will be, will she erect it with him inside, or someone else? Will her life change with him at her side, or someone else?

    Elliot is a dick and that’s all I’ll say about him cuz fuck him to hell and back again. I understand Grace doesn’t like the bdsm thing but that’s not a reason to not speak to your child. As he said, he’s a consenting adult, the people he’s with are consenting adults, and he’s never hurt anyone. I’m conflicted in Carrick now. It’s all out in the open and it’s clear he love Grace more than the world so why the bdsm, why the affair—if you could call it that?

    I’m glad Trey has reconciled with Mia at least and Blake continues to be a favorite for being a straight shooter.

    • This one is thought-provoking like Lee’s comment (read Lee’s comments–deep stuff!!)

      In Grace’s defense, she’s shattered by the secrets the entire family kept from her. The nature of the secrets is secondary. As for the nature of the secrets, think about the secret that Mia kept as opposed to the secrets that Elliot and Christian kept. Mia was looking for and hoping for a solution before breaking any bad news to her mother. Christian and Elliot were obviously into some self-serving things that, although they were both trying to keep from hurting Grace, they were more trying to protect themselves than anything.

      Also in Grace’s defense, if Christian was giving up a kidney, he obviously has a plan of care and recuperation in place if he wasn’t going to tell Mia or anyone that he was the donor. Grace knows this so she knows that he’s being cared for and quite honestly, this was a lot to dump in her lap all at once and expect her to be okay with it. No matter what the circumstance, any human being needs time to process garbage when it’s dumped on them all at once.

      • seralynsmom says:

        I get that. I just feel, out of all the secrets Elliot dumped on her, his and Mia’s should be the most damaging. Mia kept her illness a secret up to the point she nearly died. Elliot is killing himself slowly by doing drugs. Trey is practicing bdsm and yes, she’s likely projecting her feelings for it after learning about Carrick onto him but his, experience I guess?, isn’t remotely close to Carrick’s. He isn’t lying, per se, and he isn’t cheating to accomplish it. Though I can understand why she hates the practice.

  14. Camille Henley says:

    Thanks for an amazing update Goddess! I need to re-read. I know you have warned us.. I absolutely loved the conversation between Blake and Golden. Blake telling Golden that she has changed and Blake realizing that if someone didn’t know Golden they wouldn’t see or know that she has changed.. I was extremely happy that Golden visited Trey at his most vulnerable time. Golden staying there for hours not caring that she had lost track of time speaks more than anything..Would a sadist really displayed those emotions that she has for Trey?..I can’t even speak on the Grey’s. Elliott stop with the drugs. Why in the world would you outs everyone especially after learning that Christian was the donor for Mia. Drugs doesn’t allow you to care. Elliott decided to take the focus off himself again. Grace why wouldn’t you contact or support Christian. Did you want him to deny that he was in the lifestyle? He’s a grown man and he’s not Carrick. He did saved his sister and has reconnected with Mia.. However, you have decided to not support Christian What a waste!. I’m really trying to prepare myself for the heartbreak that I feel might be coming between Trey and Golden. Sometimes we just have to accept some things aren’t meant to be. I think it’s safe to say that we’re seeing a new Golden. Sadist yes, however, a working progress. I would love to see those two together. But I can definitely understand if it goes differently considering their history. Goddess I absolutely love your writing. You have a gift that you give all of us. We’re so invested in this story as if we’re dealing with our own. Thank You for all that you give us…I have to post my review, I’m so afraid of having computer issues.. and loose everything… hopefully after my re-read I will post again.

  15. Loved this chapter! So much packed into it drama, suspense, heartbreak, joy, redemption, ugh sooo many emotions to list, well done woman!! I’m so glad you shined a light on a topic many people aren’t aware of and is to often abused, unscrupulous hospital staff breaking privacy for a buck! As someone who works in the medical field it makes us look bad when one of our “supposed” own will take photos with or of a patient or call in tips about who’s there or what’s going on, it makes me sick…. then there’s Golden I feel bad for trey feeling like a broken man it’s starting to look like a case of not realizing what you had until lost it on her part, through I do agree with one thing she said emotions are messy…but sometimes messy is so worth it! Can’t wait for the next chapter of both stories!!

    • Rose Morgan (Barbra Streisand) put it best in the movie The Mirror Has Two Faces…

      She asked her class, “So the final question is: Why do people want to fall in love? When it can have such short shelf life and be devastatingly painful, what do you think?” Once her students gave her three very logical answers, she replied, “Good answers, but too intellectual for me. l think it’s because, as some of you may already know… While it does last, it feels fucking great.”

  16. falalalynx says:

    Good morning my Goddess,

    Help me help me, I am not trying to argue. And I will probably never understand but I have to give it a shot. grin You can tell me to go away if you feel like it.
    In your response to Lee’s thought provoking comments you tell us that “the absence of consent-the removal of free will” is the only condition in bdsm that would be wrong. So then what ‘rules’ are you telling us Goldie broke? Trey’s the one who kept coming back at her. sigh Falala is so confused. Goldie found herself in an emotional danger zone and decided for her own self interest to remove herself from it. She may be wrong or she may be right to do this but how in the world is she the baddie? Goldie has evolved most definitely. Her emotional bubble, her disconnect from her clients, and even her personal family landscape has changed but again I still can’t see her as the antagonist in this. She just another victim in the saga of life.
    Peace, Falala

    • falalalynx says:

      she IS just another victim. sigh my bad

    • My brain went bananas when you asked this question because so many freaking answers came at me at once. So, if it sounds like I’m rambling, please forgive me… I’ll try to be as succinct as possible.

      Golden broke the rules of engagement of any relationship.

      Think about friendships that you have—not romantic relationships that you’ve ever had, just friendships. Now, think about friends that you’ve had that just stopped talking to you for no reason and never told you why (we’ve all had them). Think about how that made you feel. Did you ever try to go back and ask them, “What did I do wrong?” or try to fix the situation only to have them ignore you? Or even if you didn’t go back to ask what happened, how many times did you sit and wonder, “What the fuck did I do?”

      Or imagine that you are engaging with someone in whatever way that you may be engaging them and they tell you, “This is who I am; this is what I do; it’s A-B-C,” and you say, “Okay, I got it, we’re good.” Then you walk away and you come back and they’re with the next person appearing to do or be something completely different. When you call them on their bullshit, they tell you, “It’s none of your business.” Okay, so who the fuck were they lying to… you or the other guy?

      Finally, when I was working in a union shop, we had something that we called “Past practice.” What that meant was that even if something wasn’t in writing, if the company had been doing it all along, and they turn around with no notice and say, “Well, we’re not doing it anymore,” the union could back them in a corner and say, “Yes, you are, because you’ve been doing it all this time. You’ve set a precedent – a way of doing things, and we expect you to keep doing that.”

      These are all basic rules of engagement of any relationship. This is not an exhaustive list, but these are just the rules Golden broke.

      If you want to cut someone off for whatever reason, so be it, but you don’t just keep cutting them off then come back, cut them off and come back, cut them off then come back, and she did that repeatedly to Christian throughout the entire story until he told her to go away.

      If you say you’re going to do something or be something, do it, be it. Don’t get mad because someone sees you being you being someone else and calls you on your bullshit. That’s what happened with Kevin. Yes, Trey broke an unwritten rule and showed up without being invited because she wouldn’t respond to him, but what he saw was clearly something that she said she didn’t want. When he called her on her bullshit, she told him it was none of his business. He said, “fine” and went to leave, but she still expected him to respect her when she couldn’t respect him, hence part III.

      He has never left her dungeon without at least one orgasm. She decides, “No, I’m going to show you who’s boss” and left him hanging. She completely rewrote their rules of engagement without his knowledge or consent.

      I’m not just talking about the rules of a BDSM relationship that were broken here because, yes, consent and free will dictate the (a la carte) rules of the BDSM relationship. I.E. in a vanilla relationship, you may not hit your spouse, but in a BDSM relationship, you might. Golden broke several basic rules of engagement – of trust and relationships, period – and felt like she had the right to do it because she was the Domme.

      Consent and free will doesn’t mean that you get to totally disrespect my feelings and me as a human being, and that’s what she was doing to Trey in the name of protecting herself – and she did it repeatedly. So, if that’s the person that you’re going to be, leave the man alone. If giving yourself to him in any way causes you to lose your shit, then leave him alone. Don’t do this cat-and-mouse thing with him. That’s cruel and unusual on any level, BDSM or otherwise. If you don’t want me, let me go.

      • falalalynx says:

        Okay the rules are rules of engagement not rules of bdsm. I think I have it now. Thanks for the explanation. grin But I still have trouble with bdsm in and of itself. giggle Makes me soooo vanilla. But I do love my chocolate sauce, oh and chips and fudge. Love to you, Falala

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