Chapter 37 - Catch Me If You Can

“Taylor is concerned that the perp may have entered the apartment and may still be there. He wants to make sure.”

“I see. What’s Taylor’s plan?”

By the perp, he means Leila. She might be unbalanced at the moment, but she’s still very clever and conniving. No doubt she’d found out about the Coping Together fund raiser through the publicity, or maybe she even remembered about it as it’s an annual event, always held on the second weekend of June. I think I vaguely remember her suggesting she’d love to go to it when she was my sub, but I never took her. She was my submissive, not my girlfriend. It wasn't part of our contract.

In any case, she’d have known we would most likely be out all evening, thereby giving her plenty of time to carry out her plan. Hell, she probably watched us leave from somewhere nearby, in which case she’d have seen Anastasia with me, and she’d also have seen Taylor escorting us.  

So she’d have known she had the perfect opportunity to carry out her act of vandalism, with no one at the apartment monitoring the security CCTV of the garage. The fact that she brought paint with her to throw over the car proves it wasn't a spur of the moment, impulsive act, but a carefully planned, premeditated attack.

Because the basement garage at Escala is not for our exclusive use, Taylor has previously highlighted this as a potential security weakness. He would much prefer that our vehicles were locked away in our own secure garage, not accessible to any unauthorized personnel. However, up to now this had not been considered a major issue, because the security threat was assessed as very low, and key pad access to the car park was considered a sufficient security measure.

 As Sawyer replies, his voice is calm, but I know he’s instantly gone from Code Orange to full blown Code Red.

“He’s coming up in the service elevator with Ryan and Reynolds. They’ll do a sweep, then give us the all clear. I’m to wait with you, sir.” 

“Thank you, Sawyer.”

It seems every time I think things are going well for us, more fucking shit turns up to complicate things. While I wrap Anastasia in my arms to try and reassure her, I quickly try to get my head around all this, to think it through, unconsciously burying my nose in her hair as I do. She smells divine, of course.

“This day just gets better and better,” I sigh, thinking how Elena’s misguided meddling had really riled Ana, after we’d had such a great evening. Still, despite Mia’s interference, we managed to get it on together to have a great spank and fuck session, after sneaking off to my old bedroom like a pair of naughty teenagers. It was another fun first, and I'm not going to forget that in a hurry. Ana begging me to spank her, and then loving every fucking second of it. Bring it on.

But right now, I have to focus, because I know the security detail are all armed. And I know that they’re all undoubtedly going to be twitchy, very twitchy, in a shoot first and ask questions later kind of way, and that’s my concern. This is why I’m not a believer in carrying guns, because a situation like this can so easily escalate out of control, in a completely unwarranted way.

I just need to get to Leila first, because I'm sure if I could talk to her, command her, she would obey me.  Taylor doesn't understand the dynamics of a D/s relationship, so he’s being over cautious in his threat assessment of her.

I don't think Leila means me any harm; in her confused state, it’s Anastasia she’s jealous of. She’s assuming that Ana is my latest submissive, so she knew the Audi A3 would be her car, because that’s what she and all my other submissives had. That’s why she targeted that car and none of the others.  This proves that Ana is the one that needs the team’s protection, not me.  She must be the focus of their attention, not me.

And in any case, I really don't see how Leila could possibly get into the apartment, not after Taylor has meticulously checked and rechecked every last little detail, as well as changing all the number combinations for the key pads.  Fuck it, as long as Ana is safely protected and out of harm’s way, I think it’s going to be best if I handle this situation my way.

“Listen, I can't stand here and wait. Sawyer, take care of Miss Steele. Don't let her in until you have the all clear. I am sure Taylor is overreacting. She can't get into the apartment.”

“No, Christian – you have to stay with me.” 

Anastasia panics, as she clings to me. See, this is exactly what I didn't want – Ana alarmed and scared by their overreaction, especially as I’m virtually certain Leila won’t even be in the apartment.

“Do as you’re told, Anastasia. Wait here,” I tell her firmly, and right now I expect her to obey me without question. This isn't the time for defiance. She has to let me deal with the situation and just keep safely out of the way.

I can see that Sawyer is torn. I’m going directly against Taylor’s orders to him, and he doesn't like it one bit. Tough shit. I’m the Principal; he and Taylor are in my employ and they do as I say.  I know Leila and they don't, so I’m calling the shots.

“Sawyer?” 

I look him straight in the eye when he doesn't move out of my way to let me into the apartment. What’s he going to do – try and restrain me, for fuck’s sake?

Reluctantly, Sawyer opens the foyer door to let me into the apartment, and I cautiously make my way in.

~~~

Almost immediately, I’m joined by Taylor and the other two guys as they make their way in from the service elevator.

“Sir, I gave clear instructions that you were to wait with Sawyer, and it was not a suggestion,” he virtually snarls at me. “You’re putting yourself at unnecessary risk. Please Mr. Grey, go back and wait in the foyer and let us get on with our job.”

“I know the perp. You don’t. She’ll listen to me. That’s if she’s even in here, which I very much doubt,” I calmly insist.

Taylor just glares at me, before he resigns himself to the fact that I’m not leaving, and there is nothing to be gained by standing around arguing with me. If looks could kill, I’d already be a dead man. However, I’m not risking them having an unnecessary shoot out, while I'm hiding behind some security guy, not when I'm sure I could safely defuse the situation with a few simple words.

Taylor closely escorts me the whole time we search the apartment and I can tell he’s still furious, but I don't give a shit. For now, we concentrate on the task in hand, as we work our way through the apartment, room by room.  My playroom is locked as usual, but Taylor and I still go and check inside, while Ryan and Reynolds check the spare bedrooms.

As we work our way through the apartment, a couple of  things strike me as slightly unusual. The spare set of the internal apartment keys are hanging on the second hook in the cabinet in the utility room, rather than the first as they normally are. Strange, but probably Gail just put them on that hook instead of the usual one, before she left for the weekend.

Also, in my study the top drawer of my filing cabinet is slightly open, although I would normally close it properly. But I think I'm probably only noticing these small details because of my heightened awareness.

Just as I expected, there is no sign of Leila, but Taylor still wants to check all the closets and cupboards, so I decide to leave them to it. Remembering how worried Anastasia looked as I left her with Sawyer, I need to get back to reassure her.

As I open the door to the foyer, I’m greeted by the sight of Sawyer pointing his gun at me. Talk about overreacting, but I guess at least he’s on the ball in protecting Anastasia. But I’m still not in favor of guns – it’s just too easy to overreact and get carried away in the heat of the moment.

As I frown at him. Sawyer quickly stows his gun back into his shoulder holster.

“All clear. Taylor is overreacting,” I inform him, and he steps back to let Ana in, and then heads off into the apartment.

Ana is just standing there, staring at me, frozen to the spot in an apparent state of shock. This is all too much for her to take in, and I bitterly regret that she’s gotten mixed up in all this. This is why I try so hard to shield and protect her – she’s been put through a totally unnecessary and worrying experience.

“It’s alright, baby,” I tell her, as I wrap her in my arms and kiss her hair. “Come on, you’re tired. Bed.”

“I was so worried,” she murmurs into my chest.

“I know. We’re all jumpy.”

“Honestly, your exes are proving to be very challenging, Mr. Grey.” 

Ana tries to make light of the situation.

“Yes. They are.” 

You’d better hope that none of the other previous fifteen also decide to make their presence felt, Grey.

I lead her into the apartment. She was already very tired, and now with this additional stress, she really must get some rest – she needs her sleep far more than I do.

“Taylor and his crew are checking all the closets and cupboards. I don't think she’s here.” 

I don't want her to worry about it anymore now.

“Why would she be here?”

“Exactly.”

“Could she get in?”

“I don't see how. But Taylor is overcautious.”  

Trouble is, we still haven’t figured how Leila got in before, and that’s what’s making him so nervous. But I don't point this out to Ana.

“Have you searched your playroom?” she whispers. Why does she mention that room in particular? Association with my past history I guess.

“Yes, it’s locked – but Taylor and I checked.” 

I’d rather it was him checking that room out with me than the other guys, even if they have all signed an NDA.

She takes a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” I offer, recalling that she’s drunk a fair amount of wine and champagne this evening, and alcohol has a very dehydrating effect.

“No.” 

I’ll make sure she has a glass of water by her bed for later though.

“Come. Let me put you to bed. You look exhausted.” She's about ready to drop.

I take her into my bedroom, and as she empties her purse, she hands me the note from Elena.

“Here. I don't know if you want to read this. I want to ignore it”

I take it, thankful that she’s handing it over to me to handle, because Elena should not be her problem to deal with.  I'm pissed when I see what she’s written.

I may have misjudged you. And you have definitely misjudged me. Call me if you need to fill in any of the blanks – we could have lunch. Christian doesn’t want me talking to you, but I would be more than happy to help. Don't get me wrong, I approve, believe me – but so help me, if you hurt him… He’s been hurt enough. Call me: (206) 279 6261 

Mrs. Robinson

For fuck’s sake, what is the woman’s problem? I’m going to have to spell it out yet again to Elena, because she just doesn't seem to be getting the message. How many more times do I have to tell her to butt out? 

And I sure as hell don't want Ana knowing about any of the kind of gaps that Elena could fill in, that’s for sure. What is she alluding to? What she thinks my caning preferences are? Top ten anal sex tips? No, there is no ‘help’ I would want Elena contaminating Ana with. That part of my past is best left exactly there – in the past.

“I’m not sure what blanks she can fill in,” I mutter, thankful that Ana obviously has no intention of taking Elena up on her offer. “I need to talk to Taylor. Here, let me unzip your dress.”

“Are you going to call the police about the car?”

Fuck no – are you mad?

“No. I don't want the police involved. Leila needs help, not police intervention, and I don't want them here. We just have to double our efforts to find her.”

The last thing I need is the police poking around, demanding answers to all sorts of awkward questions. We’ll deal with it in-house, in our own way.

“Go to bed,” I insist.

~~~

In the debrief, Taylor has pulled up the CCTV footage from the garage, and we're all studying it closely. We see someone of a slight build, dressed all in black, wearing a hoodie. There isn't a clear picture of their face, but there’s no doubt in my mind it’s Leila we can see slashing the tires and pouring white paint all over Ana’s car. 

Then we see her making her way towards the elevators, but the camera angle means we can't be certain if or how she actually managed to gain access to the apartment that way or not.

But when Taylor checks out the apartment CCTV for the foyer, there is no doubt. Shit.  Leila did manage to get in to the apartment. I was wrong. Leila was here. Fuck. She’s obviously aware of the cameras as she keeps her hood up, so there are no clear pictures of her face.

Taylor is very frustrated and puzzled. I think he’s taking this security breach as a personal affront.

“I just can't work out how the fuck she gained entry. How the fuck has she gotten hold of the access codes?” he insists.

“I don't fucking care how she did it, I just want you to make fucking sure she can't do it again. And are we certain she’s left?” I demand.

“We've swept the whole apartment, and there’s no sign of her. We've gone through every closet and cupboard.”

“Could the perp have gained insider Intel? Befriended someone who has access to the elevators or the codes? Or could she have shoulder surfed someone? Or tailgated them? Are the codes written down or recorded anywhere that she could gain access to, or hack into?” Ryan suggests. His train of thought gives away his FBI background.

“I don't see how any of those possibilities could occur, but we’ll go through each one to eliminate them as possible security lapses,” Taylor agrees.

“Is she definitely working alone, or could she have joined forces with someone who has greater resources, who’s just using her insider knowledge? If the state of her mind is unbalanced, some other fucker could well be manipulating her for their own purposes,” Reynolds suggests. 

It’s not a pleasant thought, but I can’t deny that I have made some enemies during some of my hostile take overs and acquisitions. It’s par for the course in my world.

“I don't believe that’s the case, but we can't rule it out, I guess,” I reluctantly agree. “Get Barney on to it. He can investigate the possibility of someone hacking into our systems, although I really don't think Leila has that kind of ability. And Barney has all our systems completely water tight, because he fucking well wrote the original book on how to hack into systems." 

That's why I employed him, even though everyone else thought he was just some nerdy little geek. The guy's a fucking genius with computer systems and he's proved invaluable. 

"Look, just make fucking sure we aren't missing something really obvious that’s staring us right in the face.  That’s twice she’s managed to get in here, and we still don't have a fucking clue how she’s doing it. Neither do we have a fucking clue where she is, so get Welch to check the neighborhood CCTV to see if he can pick her up nearby. For Christ’s sake, she's just a slip of a girl and yet she’s running fucking circles round us, making you lot look like fucking amateurs,” I rant at them. I’m tired and I'm stressed, and I fucking hate things being out of control like this.

This has really spooked me, so there is no way I can head off to bed to sleep yet. I’d convinced myself Taylor was overreacting, but now it turns out he wasn't.  I'm glad Anastasia is safely out of the way tucked up in bed, so she doesn't know about any of this, to stress her out even more than she already was. I can't even begin to contemplate the thought of any harm coming to her, because of her association with me.

It’s gone two in the morning, Taylor and his men have departed to his office and I’m alone in my study when my cell buzzes. Fuck, it’s Elena. What does she want now, ringing me at this hour? I was going to deal with her later, but as she’s rung, I decide to take the call, as I'm just in the mood to put her straight about a few things.

“I don't know why you’re calling at this hour.  I have nothing to say to you.”

“Oh! Christian, I didn't imagine you’d still be up.  I was going to leave a message, because I wanted to tell you something.”

“Well, you can tell me now. You don't have to leave a message.”

“I needed to explain that I only wanted to speak to Anastasia to sort out this misunderstanding between us, that’s all. I thought she might actually appreciate some help and guidance from me, as I’m your oldest friend. But we got off on the wrong foot and now she won’t even listen to me."

“No, you listen. I asked you, and now I am telling you. Leave her alone. She’s nothing to do with you. Do you understand?”

“I’m just trying to support you, Christian, as this is all so new for you. I only have your best interests at heart.”

“I know you do. But I mean it, Elena. Leave her the fuck alone. Do I need to put it in triplicate for you? Are you hearing me?”

“I think you've made your point, Christian. I get the message, loud and clear.”

“Good. Good night.” I slam the phone down on the desk. Hopefully she will now back off and leave Ana alone.

Then there’s a timid knock at the door, and my first thought is that it’s one of the security detail with some more Intel.

“What?” I snarl, wondering what else can go wrong tonight.

But it’s Anastasia standing in the doorway, looking startled and scared at my hostile greeting. All she’s wearing is one of my T-shirts, exposing her long, luscious legs. She looks so sweet and sexy and lovely.

“You should be in satin or silk, Anastasia. But even in my T-shirt you look beautiful.” 

She’d look beautiful wearing a sack. She has inner beauty as well as outer beauty, and it just shines through.

“I missed you. Come to bed,” she whispers, with a little smile of encouragement.

As I get up and walk over to her, I can't take my eyes off her. She is so perfect and pure and innocent. It’s not fair, and it’s not right that she’s been dragged into coping with all my festering baggage. She deserves so much better.

“Do you know what you mean to me? If something happened to you, because of me…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she tries to reassure me, as she runs her fingers through my stubble, which always seems to fascinate her. “Your beard grows quickly.”

As she touches my face, she reaches to unbutton my shirt.

“I’m not going to touch you. I just want to undo your shirt,” she whispers, as she looks me in the eye, so I know I can trust her. She understands where she can touch me now, and I know she won’t betray that trust. Only Ana.

She very slowly unbuttons my shirt, and then removes it.

“What about my pants, Miss Steele?” I like this game and where it’s heading.

“In the bedroom. I want you in your bed.” 

I like Ana seducing me, and my bed will do just fine for a good hard fuck to relieve my tension.

“Do you now? Miss Steele, you are insatiable.”

I like insatiable. Trust me, I can handle insatiable. I fucking invented the word.

“I can't think why.” 

Her voice has become all husky in that sexy way it does when she wants me, really wants me. All my tiredness has suddenly vanished, and I'm already up for some action.

She takes me by the hand and leads me to my bedroom.

I’m surprised because it seems cold and draughty in here, and I realize it’s because the balcony door is open, which is very unusual. It’s not usually necessary, because the climate control system keeps the apartment at optimum temperature all year round.

“You opened the balcony door?” 

Perhaps she just wanted some fresh air?

“No.”

Then her mouth drops open, and the blood drains from her face.

“What?” 

Shit, what on earth is the matter with her – she’s gone as white as a sheet.

“When I woke… there was someone in here. I thought it was my imagination,” she whispers.

“What?”  

Fuck. The very thought of what that means chills me to the bone.

I dash over to the balcony doors and look out – there’s no one there as far as I can tell. I step back in and lock the doors. Shutting the stable doors after the horse has bolted comes to mind. 

Did the security team check the balcony? Is Leila playing games and moving round behind our backs? This is getting beyond creepy. She is one very sick and twisted girl if she’s playing some sort of warped hide and seek game with us.

“Are you sure? Who?” 

Could she just have been dreaming? But that wouldn't explain the balcony door being open.  I have to assume there was someone in here.

“A woman, I think. It was dark. I’d only just woken up.” 

Leila.

“Get dressed. Now!”

Fuck! Ana is in real danger just by being here in my apartment.  I have to get her away before something really bad happens to her, until Taylor gets this situation under control.

“My clothes are upstairs,” she whimpers.

I pull open a drawer and grab a pair of my sweatpants. They’ll be much too big on her, but they’ll have to do. I'm not letting her go up to her room, not now, not the way that Leila seems to be able to effortlessly morph from one area to another.

“Put these on.”  

I hit the panic button by the bed as I grab a T-shirt to pull on.

“She’s still fucking here,” I bark into the phone.

Within seconds Taylor and Ryan burst into the room. I fill them in.

“When Miss Steele woke up a few minutes ago, the intruder was standing at the end of the bed watching her. By the time she woke properly and got up, they’d gone, disappeared somewhere, so she thought she’d just imagined it. But when we came back in here just now, the balcony door was open, when I know it was definitely closed previously. So I’m guessing the intruder could be using the balcony area to move from one room to another, maybe keeping close to the wall to avoid the CCTV cameras.”

The cameras face towards the balcony rail rather than the wall of the apartment – that was how Taylor saw me and became alarmed that time I was out there contemplating the view. The time he thought I was about to commit suicide. The time Ana left me, and my world ceased to exist.

It is possible to exit my bedroom and enter the main living area through another set of balcony doors, if they are unlocked – or you have a key. So now I'm wondering - could Leila have had her own set of keys cut when she was staying here, and they’re what she’s using now? On her current form, I wouldn't put it past her, and those locks weren't changed each time a sub left. Security has to be appropriate to the perceived risks, and there was no reason to suppose it would be necessary. 

“How long ago?” Taylor demands, as he stares at Ana.

“About ten minutes,” she whispers guiltily. 

She shouldn't feel bad, none of this is her fault, but it is so fucking frustrating that we didn't get hold of Leila when she was actually here in the room, and I know this must be what Taylor is thinking too.

“She knows the apartment like the back of her hand. I'm taking Anastasia away now. She’s hiding here somewhere. Find her. When is Gail back?”

“Tomorrow evening, sir.”

“She’s not to return until this place is secure. Understand?” 

I’m not having Gail put at risk in any way whatsoever, and I know there will be no argument from Taylor regarding this.

“Yes, sir. Will you be going to Bellevue?”

“I’m not leading this problem to my parents. Book me somewhere.” 

They don't need to know about all this shit. Besides, it could lead to some very awkward questions.

“Yes. I’ll call you.”

“Aren't we all overreacting slightly?” Ana quietly asks.

“She may have a gun,” I snap at her.

“Christian, she was standing at the end of the bed. She could have shot me then, if that’s what she wanted to do,” Ana calmly points out, and I suddenly work out - when she said she was worried earlier, it wasn't herself she was worried about – it was me. Why does she place so little value on herself?

A horrendous image flashes through my mind of what could have happened. Ana lying lifeless on the bed, blood soaking the white sheets from a bullet through her heart. 

I swallow hard and shake my head to rid myself of that nightmare picture. She’s right; Leila could easily have shot her, and it’s my responsibility to ensure she doesn't get another opportunity. 

I can't let that happen, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. If anything happened to her on my account, then my life would truly not be worth living any more.

“I’m not prepared to take the risk. Taylor, Anastasia needs shoes.”

Taylor disappears, and while Ryan watches over Ana, I quickly get changed in the closet, grabbing a denim jacket on the way out to keep her warm when we leave.

“Come.” I take her hand to lead her out. I just want her out of here, out of danger, as quickly as possible.

“I can’t believe she could hide somewhere in here,” Ana mutters.

“It’s a big place. You haven’t seen it all yet.”

Leila always loved this apartment; she loved wandering round all the rooms, even though she wasn't supposed to. She’d have moved in like a shot if I’d given her the slightest encouragement.

So she’s most likely worked out all the best secret hiding places, which these new security guys won’t have a clue about. And she’s such a petite woman, that she could probably squeeze herself into any number of tiny spaces.

“Why don't you just call her… tell her you want to talk to her?” Ana suggests.

“Anastasia, she’s unstable, and she may be armed,” I point out. 

You can't deal with someone like that over the phone. We need to find her in person, so she can get the help she needs.

“So we just run?”

“For now – yes.”

“Supposing she tries to shoot Taylor?”

There she goes again, worrying far more about other people than herself.

“Taylor knows and understands guns. He’ll be quicker with a gun than she is.” 

I’m really hoping it doesn't come to that though. I don't want anyone getting shot.

“Ray was in the army. He’s taught me to shoot.” Ana calmly states.

Fuck me! Annie Get Your Gun? No way!

“You, with a gun?”

“Yes. I can shoot, Mr. Grey, so you’d better beware. It’s not just crazy ex-subs you need to worry about.” 

“I’ll bear that in mind, Miss Steele.” 

This girl never ceases to amaze me. She’s proud of the fact that she knows how to use a gun, but I just can't picture it somehow. I knew Ray was ex forces, even before I read his background check. You can just tell somehow; there’s something about the way these guys hold themselves, their posture - ex forces men don’t slouch.

Taylor meets us in the foyer with a suitcase for Ana and her black converse. Ana seems touched that he’s packed her things for her, but it’s no big deal; he’s just doing his job. She smiles sweetly at him, and then takes Taylor – and me – by surprise when she gives him a big hug. Typical Ana, she’s worried about Taylor.

I don’t like this PDA of hers with one of my staff, but now is not the time to kick off about that.

“Be careful,” she tells him.

“Yes, Miss Steele,” Taylor mutters back, looking rather pink and flustered, as he clears his throat and adjusts his tie. Yeah, well make the most of that Jason, because it won’t be happening again.

“Let me know where I'm going.”

I just want to get moving – get Ana out of here, out of danger.

“You might want to use this when you get there.” 

Taylor hands me his corporate credit card that he uses for all his GEH expenses.

“Good thinking.”

Until we figure out how Leila is getting her Intel, it’s best we keep a low profile. We’ll book ourselves in under his name.

Ryan comes back to rejoin us.

“Sawyer and Reynolds found nothing,” he reports to Taylor.

“Accompany Mr. Grey and Miss Steele to the garage,” Taylor orders him.

Down in the basement garage, we see the full extent of Leila's vindictiveness. The brand new red Audi A3 is a complete mess – every tire slashed, white paint splattered everywhere. 

It’s a chilling reminder of the undoubted strength of her emotion in her unbalanced state of mind. It begs the question: if she’s capable of this, what else is she capable of? I feel Ana shivering as she looks at it, so we don't linger.  

I quickly get her into the R8 and then stow our baggage in the trunk. Usually I fucking love driving this car just for fun, but tonight I've selected it for more practical reasons. With its acceleration, speed, and great handling, the R8 would be the hardest for anyone to pursue, so it’s the logical choice, and I'm thankful Taylor insisted I complete the evasive driving techniques training he arranged. Always be prepared for the unexpected, he says.

“A replacement will arrive on Monday,” I say to try and cheer Ana up, although I know she isn't in any way materialistic, so she won’t be pining for the car itself.

The Audi dealer is used to routinely supplying these cars. He’ll easily summon up a replacement, although he may be surprised this one hasn't lasted more than a couple of weeks. Taylor will see to it that the wrecked car is removed and dealt with as soon as possible, before it starts to draw unwelcome attention.

“How could she have known it was my car?” Ana queries.

It’s obvious to me, but not to her. I reluctantly spell out to her why Leila had no problem working out which was her car.

“She had an Audi A3. I buy one for all my submissives – it’s one of the safest cars in its class.” 

“So, not so much a graduation present, then.”

Ana’s remembering how I insisted at the time that’s what it was, to get her to accept it. It was just a little white lie, so she’d have a safe, reliable car. That’s not such a crime, is it?

“Anastasia, despite what I hoped, you have never been my submissive, so technically it is a graduation present.” 

I never got my way, did I? She never officially signed up, and now we’re way beyond all that.

“Are you still hoping?” she whispers. 

There it is again. The self-doubt that always seems to surface when she feels unsure about my feelings and intentions. But as I drive off, and before I can answer her, we’re interrupted by the in-car phone buzzing. 

It’s Taylor.

“Fairmont Olympic. In my name.”

“Thank you, Taylor. And, Taylor, be careful.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’s probably relieved to have us safely out of his hair, so he can get on with his job. He understands my concern and worry about Anastasia, because he undoubtedly has the same concern about Gail being in the apartment, when he can't guarantee that Leila won’t be able to get in again.  But whatever happens, I really hope he doesn't have cause to use his gun.

So we head off to The Fairmont Olympic. Away from all the shit, all the chaos, hopefully to a safe haven where we can escape our problems for the night.

But as I drive away at speed in the early hours of the morning, I know I won’t be escaping from the questions that Ana will inevitably have for me. 

But all in good time. First we just have to get to our destination safely.

I don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission.