CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day eight:

 

From: Jason Taylor

Subject: Fluid Analysis Results

Date: July 20th 2012 Time: 07:15 AM

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey. The lab was able to confirm the blood on the towel belongs to Mrs. Grey.

-T

 

I’m sitting in my study as I read the email, a very full glass of bourbon in my hand. It’s only me, Carrick, Elliot, and Ethan in the house now. My entire security team has gone to my parents’ house in Bellevue along with my mother, Mia, Teddy, and Mrs. Jones. Without my son here, I am consumed with pain and I try to subdue it with liquor.

I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t do it. This is going to kill me, I know it. I will literally do anything to avoid feeling the way I feel now. I drain my glass and reach for laptop to compose an email.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Time and Place

Date: July 20th 2012 Time: 07:18 AM

To: Elena Lincoln

9am. Escala.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 

I push away from the desk, and trudge up the stairs to my bedroom. In the bottom drawer of my dresser is a pair of worn, faded, ripped jeans. I put them on and pull a black t-shirt out of the top drawer.

On the way to Escala, I stop at the Liquor store and buy another bottle of bourbon. It clinks against the metal railing of the elevator as I ride up the elevator to my Escala penthouse and I realize I’m shaking. I have no thoughts. No guilt. No remorse. Nothing. I have only pain. I will do anything to get rid of this pain.

The elevator doors open and Elena is waiting in the foyer.

“Christian,” She purrs, a wide, genuine smile on her face.

“Elena,” I acknowledge her flatly. She gestures towards the apartment and I follow after her robotically.

“Can I fix you a drink?” Elena asks, and I hand her the bottle of bourbon. I can’t focus on anything, my eyes just stare blankly into nothing.

I feel something cold and look down to see Elena has placed a glass of bourbon in my hand and I swallow it in one gulp.

“It’s natural to be nervous,” Elena says reassuringly. “It’s been a long time for you, Christian. But I assure you, once you’re in there, it will be like riding a bike.”

“There’s nothing in there,” I say lifelessly.

“What do you mean, Christian?”

“Ana,” my voice breaks. “She doesn’t like the whips and canes. I got rid of them.”

“Well, you’ll need to get creative then,” She smiles, pouring me another drink. “It’s going to feel good, Christian.”

I slam the drink once more, kick off my shoes, tear off my t-shirt, and march forward towards my playroom. It’s already unlocked and I know it’s because Elena has already let the girl in. She knows where the spare key is kept in the laundry room.

I enter the dark red room and see the small brown haired girl kneeling by the door out of the corner of my eye. I cross the room and look at the wall. Once full of whips, canes, and belts, it now only holds one brown riding crop and a suede flogger. I can’t use these things. These are Ana’s things.

I look around the room and realize, everything in here is Ana’s. That’s the bed I tie her to to keep her still when I fuck her. That’s the cross I truss her up on when I want to worship her. That’s the bench I bend her over when I spank her. Everything in here is Ana.

I sit on the bed and look at the naked girl kneeling on the floor, staring at the ground. It sickens me. I actually feel sick seeing her there like that. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to fuck some strange girl, I want to make love to my wife. My Ana. Only Ana.

I push away from the bed and storm out of the room without a word.

“Christian, what’s wrong?” Elena asks. She’s in the kitchen with a glass of wine.

“Get out,” I say.

“Christian?”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment and take her with you!” I yell. I can feel how hard my glare is, hear the threatening undertone of my voice. Elena shivers slightly.

“But I thought…” She stops speaking as a furiously charge at her. I knock the glass out of her hand and it shatters on the floor. I’m towering over her, my anger radiating over her as I scream.

“Get the FUCK out of my apartment, Elena, and don’t ever fucking come back here. Do you understand? We do not know each other any more. I do not want to know you. GET THE FUCK OUT!”

She gasps and hurries forward. I hear her dragging the girl with her as she flees from the apartment. I look down at the broken glass on the floor. My hands fly up into my hair and I tug, feeling overwhelmed. By what? Anger? Sadness? Frustration. It’s frustration. My entire adult life, I’ve been in control, the master of my universe. I needed it. I thrived on it. And now it’s gone. Nothing is in my control. I can’t even hire a fucking security team.

I reach up to the rack where my crystal wine glasses hang and begin to shatter them on the floor. I storm into the living room, pick up a chair, and throw it into the television. I’m a bull, raging through my own home, and I don’t care. I want to destroy everything. I can control that.

My living room and kitchen lay in shambles. Mrs. Jones is going to have a heart attack when she finds this mess, but I don’t care.

I need to get home, god knows what I’ve missed since I’ve been here, but I can’t go home in these clothes. I can’t bear to have them touch me any longer. I strip as I make my way through the mess of broken glass and furniture towards my bedroom. I pull new clothes out of my dresser, wondering briefly if I should also take a shower. I want to wash the grime of what I almost did off of me. I stomp towards the bathroom when I hear the blood curdling sound of a musical ringtone. I turn and see another pre-paid cell phone sitting on the nightstand. I launch myself at it.

“Hello? Hello?” I say desperately.

“Are you bored yet, Grey?” the cold voice asks.

“What?” I respond confused. He sighs.

“I’m getting bored. Anastasia isn’t very good company. She doesn’t seem to want to talk to me, which is rather rude. I’m a very interesting person to talk to. Don’t you agree, Grey?”

“Give her back. I’ll give you whatever you want, just give her back to me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he sneers.

“What do you want?” I ask desperately.

“I want $20 million dollars, and every hour it takes you to get it to me, you’re going to add another million.”

“Yes. Yes, I can give you that. Just tell me where you want to make the trade.”

“The address is in your car, Grey. I hope you don’t have trouble finding the place.”

“And if I get it to you… When, when I get it to you, you’ll give me Anastasia? She’ll be alive and safe?”

“Of course I will, Grey. I’m not a liar. You give me the money, I give you the girl. I have to go now. I hope to see you soon, Mr. Grey.”

The phone goes dead and I run back through my broken apartment, pulling out my blackberry as I go.

“Mr. Grey?” Taylor answers on the first ring.

“Taylor, he’s made his demand. I’m at Escala, I need you to come pick me up. I can’t drive. Taylor, HURRY!

“Right away, sir. I’m just around the corner.”

I hang up the phone as the doors to the elevator close. Taylor is waiting for me in the garage when I make it down stairs. I fly into the front seat of the Audi SUV and dial the number for my accountant.

“Mr. Calloway’s office, this is Abigail.”

“I need to speak to Calloway, right away,” I demand. “This is Christian Grey.”

“I’ll transfer you.” I listen to the hold music. Taylor is staring at me, waiting for instructions but I ignore him.

“Mr. Grey,” Calloway’s voice greets me.

“How long will it take you to get a wire transfer of $20 million dollars together?”

“$20 million dollars, Mr. Grey?”

“That’s what I fucking said!” I roar.

“Can I ask why you need such a large sum of money at once?”

“No! How long quickly can you get a wire transfer of $20 million dollars together?

“Well, a sum that large may take some time. I’m going to have to access several of your offshore accounts to get that kind of money. I’d say that fastest I could get it together would be 6-7 hours.”

“You have 5,” I said harshly. “And I’m going to need $25 million. Call me when it’s available.” I hang up the phone.

“Mr. Grey?” Taylor asks.

“He wants money. All he wanted was money. Shit!” I exit the car and race across the lot to my R8. There is a piece of paper on the front seat with a bank account number and a phone number scribbled on it. I tuck the paper in the pocket of my jeans and run back to the Audi.

“Where to, Mr. Grey?” Taylor asks.

“Take me to Bellevue. I want to see my son.” We drive over the bridge over Lake Washington in silence. I’m anxious now. Why didn’t he demand the money up front? I wouldn’t have denied him once I knew he had Anastasia. All this stress, fear, worry, pain, and all he wanted was money. I need to distract myself.

“Why were you around the corner from Escala?” I ask.

“Welch was able to find the address the courier picked up the package with the towel from so I was investigating, but it was an abandoned warehouse. I searched the property but didn’t find anything. We’re dealing with someone who knows what he’s doing, sir.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Taylor. We’re going to get her back. Five hours and I’ll have her back.”

I’m sitting in the armchair of my mother’s living room, staring at the clock while I rock my son back and forth. When my blackberry rings, Mia reaches out to take Teddy and I begin to pace as I answer the phone.

“Grey,” I bark.

“It’s done, sir. I have the whole total ready to transfer.”

“Good. The bank account number for the transfer is 2A 660139208816. Don’t transfer the money until I call you back.”

“Yes, Mr. Grey.”

I hang up the phone and call the number on the bottom of the piece of paper.

“Already, Mr. Grey? I’m impressed,” the voice says in greeting.

“Where do I meet you?”

“The trade will be made on Pier 66. I’ll see you soon, Mr. Grey.”

He hangs up and I walk to Mia, kiss Teddy on the forehead, and call for Taylor. He drives like a bat out of hell towards Pier 66 and as we both run up the dock, I call the number again.

“I don’t have the money yet, Grey,” the cold voice says impatiently.

“Is she here?” I ask.

“She’s here, but I’m not going to tell you where until I have the money. And before you get any ideas, you should know that I can see you and if you take one step, I’ll fucking kill her.”

I turn to Taylor and nod. He has my accountant on his cell phone.

“Transfer the money,” Taylor says. We wait in silence for a moment as I wait for the voice to speak, to tell me he got the money. To tell me where Ana is.

Thirty seconds pass and the phone goes dead.

“No!” I scream and I redial the number.

I’m sorry but the person you have called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet… goodbye.

“No!” I yell again, looking down at the phone in terror.

“Sir?” Taylor asks.

“Anastasia!” I call out, looking around desperately. I run further down the pier to the abandoned fish storage warehouse, calling out to her as I go.

“Anastasia! Anastasia!” There is no answer. No. No, this cannot be happening. No. What have I done? Taylor approaches the warehouse and kicks the door in. I chase after him. Oh dear god, please.

“Anastasia!” I call, desperately. “Anastasia!” My voice echos off the walls as Taylor begins tearing through the building. I don’t see her. My world is collapsing in on me. Fuck, it’s over. He played me. Why would I trust the man who kidnapped my wife? Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

“Anastasia!” I call again.

“Christian.”

I hear a weak, muffled voice behind me. There is a door to the left of the room and I launch myself towards it, throwing it open so quickly the hinges groan.

“Anastasia,” I whimper as I look down at my broken, bloody, and badly bruised wife tied to a chair in a closet. I fall to my knees and burst into wet, cathartic tears.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

“Ana!” I yell. The relief of hearing her voice is indescribable. She’s alive. I now know, she is alive. “Ana, oh god, Ana.”

“Chr-istian,” she says again, and I can hear that she’s crying.

“Are you okay, baby? Have they hurt you? Where are you?”

“I-I don’t know. I’m in a room and it’s dark. I don’t think there are windows.” I can barely understand her through her tears.

“Oh god, Ana. Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to find you. Do you understand? I’m going to find you and I’m going to bring you home.”

“Teddy?” She asks.

“He’s fine. He’s perfect. He misses you.”

“I’m so scared.”

“Are you hurt, Ana?” I ask, my voice pleading. Her answer is cut off by a loud noise in the background.

“Oh god,” She whimpers. “No!” She screams and my body seizes with terror. I hear a succession of loud thumping noises accompanied by her screams.

“Ana!” I scream into the phone, and then it goes dead. No. No, no, no, no, no! I take the phone away from my ear and try to redial, try *69, but there is no number to call back. Fuck! They’re hurting her. She was screaming. My stomach heaves and I have to run into the bathroom. I vomit violently as my body begins to shake with fear and anger. Taylor bursts through the bathroom door followed by Elliot, Ethan, and my father.

“Mr. Grey, we heard you scream. What’s wrong?”

I slide the cell phone across the bathroom floor and it hits Taylor’s feet.

“When I got into the bedroom,” I explain, “the package was on the bed. That cell phone was inside and it started ringing. I answered and it was Ana.”

“Ana?” Carrick exclaims. “She’s okay? Did she say where she was?”

“She was crying. She said she’s in a dark room with no windows.”

“Did she say anything about who was keeping her, sir? Does she have any idea of who it is?”

“I didn’t get to ask her. I talked to her for maybe 30 seconds and then I heard… I heard her scream. He was beating her.” I whirl around to the toilet as I vomit again.

“Shit, Christian,” Elliot says.

“I’ll get Welch on the line,” Taylor says, “See what he can find out from this phone.” He disappears through the door and I want to run after him, go with him, but my body is seized with fear. I’m shaking.

“Let’s get him off the floor,” Ethan says, and he and Elliot come forwards and heave me to my feet.

“Wait a minute,” Carrick says, as his eyes fall on the night stand. “Isn’t that Ana’s blackberry?”

I nod my head. “He was here. He left the phone and the package.”

“Fuck,” Elliot swears. “Christian, maybe you shouldn’t stay here.”

“No, if he comes here, I want to be here. If he comes here again, I’ll fucking kill him myself.”

“Maybe Teddy should come stay with us?” Carrick suggests.

“No, I need him with me. He can’t be away from me until Ana is back. Not until I get Ana back.”

“Let’s get downstairs. Mia, Kate, and Grace are still looking for Ana’s phone. They need to know what happened.”

I nod my head. Elliot and Ethan let me go as I test my body to see if I’ve regained enough composure to stand. When I’m steady, we head down the stairs to tell the girls.

“If you’re staying, I’m staying,” Mia says, after we’ve explained the events from upstairs.

“Me too,” Kate declares.

“No,” Elliot says. “Absolutely not.”

Kate glares at him. “Elliot, Christian can’t stay here alone. He’s going to need help with Teddy.”

“Christian has security and staff.”

“I’m staying too,” My mom answers. Everyone looks at her, and my dad shakes his head in disbelief.

“I won’t leave my son alone when he’s being stalked by a mad man. We should all stay. The more numbers the better.”

“I’ll increase security,” I assure them. I think back to the early months of Ana’s pregnancy when she had finally convinced me to ease security on our family. She hated having an entourage follow her around and with Jack no longer a problem, she didn’t believe the security was still necessary. I stupidly agreed. Why the fuck did I agree? If she’d had Sawyer with her in Australia, none of this would have happened.

Except she would have been on that damn plane.

No, that would have been better. Hannah was fine, Ana would have been fine too. As it is, I have no idea where she is and I know she’s being hurt. A horrific image crosses my mind of strange hands running over her naked body and I have to swallow back bile. I can’t think about that. I don’t know anything like that has happened and if I dwell on it, I’ll go crazy.

“Mom, will you bring Teddy to me? I need to hold him.”

“Of course dear.”

“Taylor,” I say turning to him. My voice lacks its usual undertone of authority and it bothers me.

“Yes, sir?”

“I want you to hire back the security team and anyone else good that you know of. Pay them whatever they want.”

“Yes, sir,” he responds and heads off to his office to make phone calls.

My mother appears with Teddy and I take him eagerly, feeling the smallest amount of my anxiety melt away and even that small amount is liberating.

There is tension in the house. Mrs. Jones has the day off so my mother is cooking lunch for everyone. We’ve all been awake for over 24 hours but none of us are able to sleep. The only thing we think about is Ana.

I’m sitting in my study, Teddy sleeping soundly in my arms as I read the email from Welch on my laptop. Welch has tracked the serial number and found that it was sold from the Walgreens on Pike St, less than half a mile from Escala. He’s got contacts with both the local police and the FBI, and is working on getting a warrant for the sales records for that day. Hopefully the fucker used a credit card and we’ll be able to connect the name to the purchase. Welch is also working on hacking into the store’s security camera footage so that we can see everyone who has entered the store over the past few days. Taylor is scouring Escala with his team, including the newly re-acquired Sawyer, to see if there has been anyone in my apartment.

I feel a little better, knowing my team is on it. It feels like we’re making progress. I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her home and I’m never going to let her go again. I look down at Teddy.

“Don’t worry, precious baby. I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring Mommy home to us.”

There is a commotion outside my office door and I look up to see Mia trying to keep a blonde woman out of my office.

“You’re not welcome here,” Mia snaps.

“Get out of my way, you silly girl,” the woman says and my gut clenches as I realize who she is.

“Elena?” I ask hesitantly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She pushes her way past Mia who I brush away with my hand and she closes the door behind her.

“Christian,” She purrs, a pout on her face. I stare at her suspiciously.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“How could I not be here? I heard about the flight and that Anastasia was on it.”

“She wasn’t,” I say coldly, straightening in my chair so I sit taller. Her eyes fall on Teddy in my arms.

“Is that him?” She asks. There is a kind smile on her face but I can hear the undertone of disgust in her voice. “Is that your son?”

“Yes,” I respond.

“Theodore, isn’t it? But, Christian why is he in here with you? Surely there is a nanny that should be taking care of the… baby.”

“He’s fine here.”

“Hmm. Can I hold him?” She asks.

“No!” I snap, holding Teddy tight against my chest. Teddy is Ana’s. Ana would be furious if Elena got anywhere near him. Ana will be furious that Elena came here at all.

“You should leave,” I say.

“Christian, I just came to check on you. I know how difficult this must be for you.”

“Your concern is noted but entirely unnecessary, Elena,” I say flatly. “I don’t need your support.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you needed support,” She says slyly. “I thought I could give you something else that I know you need.”

I narrow my eyes at her as she sashays across the room and sits on my desk.

“Christian, we both know that best way to relieve stress and I’ve come to offer my assistance.”

“If you think I would ever touch you again…” I growl.

“Oh god, Christian. I wasn’t talking about myself.” She glares down at me, her domme persona in full effect. I stare back just as hard so she knows I’m not intimidated.

“I’m going to make some calls and have a suitable submissive delivered to you,” She says, her voice softening. “She’ll give you a feeling of control. Do you have a playroom here or should I have her sent to Escala?”

“I have no interest in a submissive, Elena,” I say darkly. “I am a happily married man. Now get the fuck out of my house before I have security escort you out.”

“Now, Christian. I’m just looking out for you. I worry about you. If you don’t want me to send someone, I won’t. But you know it will help.”

“Like I said, I don’t want your help, now please leave.” I glare at her, but her eyes flick away from mine when her cell phone rings from her Chanel bag.

“Oh that must be James,” She says. “He’s my new toy. Feisty this one, he can take a lot of pai…” She looks down at her phone and frowns, but she answers it anyway.

“Hello? Who is this?” She looks down at me, her brow furrowed and then hands me the phone. I look at her suspiciously and take it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Grey,” the cold male voice answers. My breath stops.

“Where is she?” I demand.

“She’s right here,” the voice replies. “I’d give her the phone but she’s a little tied up right now.”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” I respond menacingly. “Let my wife go or I swear to god…”

“Now, Mr. Grey, I don’t really like your tone. You ought to be more polite to the man who holds your wife’s life in his hands.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to suffer, Grey. Simple as that. And we’re going to start our little game by you sending your security team away.”

“If you think I’m going to let you get near anyone else in my family, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Grey,” I hear a loud noise followed by Anastasia’s scream.

“Ana!” I yell, and I begin shaking again.

“How about now, Grey? Do you feel like sending your security away now?”

“Don’t lay another mother fucking finger on my wife you son of a bitch!” I roar into the phone and he sighs.

“I really don’t know why you have to make it this difficult, Grey.” There is another loud noise followed by an even louder scream. I can hear her agony.

“Stop,” I whimper. “Please. Please stop.”

“Your security?” The man asks.

“Gone. I’ll send them away. Just please, please don’t hurt my wife again.”

“Of course not, Grey. I’m a reasonable man. If you just do what I tell you to do, Anastasia will be fine. I’ve got to go now, Mr. Grey, but I’ll be in contact soon. Once your security has gone, that is.”

The phone goes dead and my hand drops to my desk as the pain washes over me.

“Christian, what happened?” Elena asks, reaching out to take her phone back. I jerk it out of her reach.

“How did he get your number?” I ask.

“Who? What are you talking about?” She replies and I can see the confusion on her face.

“The man who has my wife!” I demand. “How did he get your number?”

“What? I thought Anastasia was in a plane crash. Who has her?”

She doesn’t know. I look through the call history and see that the number had been blocked. The door to my office bursts open and nearly every one of my family members pours in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” My mother yells as she sees Elena. “Get out!”

“No,” I say. She turns her furious gaze to me.

“Christian, I thought I made it clear that you were to never see this woman again.”

“I haven’t, Mom. She shouldn’t have been here tonight, but now she needs to stay. I need her phone.” I turn to Taylor. “I got another call, on Mrs. Lincoln’s phone this time. Give it to Welch. See what he can find.”

Taylor comes forward and takes the phone. I stare down at my son and tremble.

“Look, Christian. You keep the phone. I’ll replace it,” Elena says, and she looks at Grace. “And, I’ll just see my way out. I’ll have the uh… matter we discussed delivered to Escala tomorrow. Come, or don’t come, it’s up to you.” She smiles down at me as she rises off my desk and walks out of the room.

There is an uncomfortable silence in the office until Elliot finally speaks.

“What did they say, Christian?”

“He wants me to send my security away,” I respond flatly, not taking my eyes of Teddy.

“Christian, you can’t send security away. Don’t you even think about it,” my mother says, panicked.

“I’m not going to, Mom. I won’t leave my son unprotected. I’m just going to have to wait it out to find out what this fucker wants.”

I spend the next few hours either on the phone with Welch or speaking with Taylor in my office, trying to come up with a plan of action. He and his team are to remain out of sight. They will watch my family without anyone knowing they are here. I know Taylor can avoid being found if he wants to be. It’s getting late and I can feel the sleepless nights starting to catch up with me. I’m exhausted but I’m terrified to sleep. I’m terrified I might miss something important, but even more so of the nightmares I know will come.

I head out to the living room, sit at my piano, and play. It doesn’t distract me the way it normally does but, since Gail has put down Teddy in the nursery, it’s the only thing I have. My family sits on the couch watching me play. Elliot has fallen asleep with his head in Kate’s lap, but no one else seems to want to go to bed. I focus on the notes, not allowing any thoughts to enter my mind, when I hear the doorbell. I jump up and run to the door, Carrick, Ethan, and Taylor on my heels. Taylor jumps out of sight next to the door and I think I see him send a silent hand signal to his team as they watch us over the CCTV. He nods at me and I wrench open the door and find a courier carrying another small brown package.

“Mr. Christian Grey?” He asks, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat to answer.

“Yes,” I say. He hands me a paper to sign. I scribble a half-hearted signature and take the package. Ethan remembers to tip the courier as I walk back into the house, ripping the package as I go. I’m at the kitchen counter when I finally get into it and I pull out a note and a stained towel.

“What is that?” Ethan asks. “What’s all over it.”

“Oh my god, is that blood?” My mother asks. I drop the towel and read the note.

I told you to send away your security, Mr. Grey.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

“Are you still there, Grey?” The voice says again. My mouth is dry.

“Where is she?” I whisper, hoarsely.

“Oh, we’re not going to have time for questions, Mr. Grey. We don’t even really have time to talk at all. So, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to get on your plane, you’re going to go home, and you’re going to wait for me to call you again. Do you understand, Grey?”

“Where is my wife?” I demand, anger boiling inside of me.

“Don’t worry, she’s here. Safe with me. For now that is. If you do what I say, I don’t see why you wouldn’t have her back in no time at all.”

“I swear to god, if you touch her. If you hurt her. I will hunt you down and I will fucking kill you. Where the fuck is my wife?!”

“I have to go now, Grey. I suggest you follow my instructions or when I do send your wife back to you, it will be piece by piece.”

The phone goes dead. No. No. Fuck! I charge out of the room of injured people and into the waiting crowd outside of the building. I’m temporarily blinded by the flashes of light bulbs as I force my way through the throng of onlookers. Photographers yell questions at me and news crews are shoving microphones in my face.

“Is your wife inside, Mr. Grey?”

“Is your wife injured, Mr. Grey?”

“Mr. Grey, can you confirm that your wife is alive?”

I feel a tug on my arm and I’m pulled forward. My head turns to see who has hold of me and I see that it’s Taylor. He’s pushing us through the crowd quickly, getting me away from the media. When we make it to the parking lot of the marina, I see my family members huddled around the black SUVs.

Kate immediately breaks into tears when she sees me.

“Oh god, oh god, she’s not with him. No! She wasn’t rescued,” She wails. Mia and my mother also begin to cry, but I ignore them and climb into the front seat of the SUV. Taylor appears at the window.

“Mrs. Grey, sir?” He asks solemnly.

“We need to get back to the airport,” I respond. “Get everyone in the fucking car and let’s go.” Taylor ushers the now hysterical Kate into the backseat along with Elliot, Ethan, and Mia. Elliot and Ethan try to calm the women in the back seat as they cry, but Kate is beyond herself. She’s screaming in her grief. The sound is grating on me, but I can’t speak. I’m far beyond words. I’m murderously enraged. Out of control. The only thing I can do is obey the commands of the man who has stolen the only thing in my life that has meaning.

We fly down the highway towards the airport. No one bothers to talk to me or ask me any questions. They assume my silence is grief, and on some level it is, but it’s mostly rage.

When we pull on the tarmac, I jump out of the car, away from Kate’s screams, and I pull out my blackberry.

“Welch!” I snap into the phone once he answers. “I need a trace on Mrs. Grey’s phone, now. I need to know where it is, you got that? I don’t care what your doing, I need you to stop and fucking find that phone.” I don’t even give him time to reply before I hang up. I’m pacing, stomping really, back and forth in front of the stairs that ascend into my plane. How am I going to sit still through the two hour flight? Fuck. I grab the railing to the stairs and pull myself up.

I take my seat and stare venomously at Kate, who is laying with her head in Elliot’s lap, sobbing. The captain announces we are ready for take off and as we begin taxing over the airfield, Taylor comes to sit beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Sir, Welch isn’t going to find Anastasia by tracking her phone. This isn’t the type of situation where that’s going to work. I’m sorry, sir, but she’s gone. If she wasn’t brought in with the survivors than she…”

“She’s not dead, Taylor,” I say.

“Sir, it’s time to accept…”

“Jesus fucking christ, Taylor! She’s not fucking dead! She wasn’t on the fucking plane!”

Everything falls silent around me. I hear Kate make a long shuddering gasp as she sits up, her bloodshot eyes baring into me.

“Wha-What do you m-m-mean she wa-wasn’t on the p-lane?” She chokes.

“Exactly what I just fucking said,” I answer coldly. “She wasn’t on the fucking plane.”

“Where is she?” Mia asks so softly I can barely hear her.

My head falls into my hands. I want to cry. I wish I could cry. I’m jealous of the release Kate, and Mia, and my mother get to have, that I can’t. I haven’t been able to cry, not this whole time she’s been gone. The emotion just sits inside of me building and building and now I feel as if I might explode. The stress is too much to handle. Unwittingly, my arm shoots out and punches the wall of the plane with as much force as I can muster. My knuckles break against the metal of the wall but I can barely feel it. It helps. The pain, the release of frustration, it all helps. It takes away from the all consuming anger and stress.

“Christian!” My mother yells. She unbuckles her seatbelt and sinks to her knees in front of me, gingerly taking my hand in hers.

“Someone bring me a towel and some ice,” she says as she examines my broken hand. Mia jumps to her feet and brings back the things my mother asked for. As she wraps my hand in some tape from the first aid kit, Kate begins her inquisition.

“Where is she, Christian? If she wasn’t on the plane, where is she?”

“I don’t know,” I grimace.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Kate demands. “If you don’t know where she is then how do you know she wasn’t on the plane?”

“Hannah,” I say darkly. “Hannah was there. She said she wasn’t on the plane.”

“Maybe she just didn’t make it to her seat?” Carrick asks. “You haven’t heard from her since the accident. I find it very unlikely that she just missed the flight and didn’t call.”

“She didn’t miss the flight.”

“I’m not following you,” Carrick continues warily.

“Someone has her. They picked her up at security or, I don’t know. But someone has her.”

“Sir..” Taylor begins. “Who has her? Where is Mrs. Grey?”

It’s difficult to recount the story of the phone call I received without flying into a blinding rage, but I manage. My family stares at me with looks of horror on the face.

“But I don’t understand,” Elliot says. “If they’ve had her this whole time, why are they just calling you now?”

“The plane crash. I wouldn’t have believed them if they called me before. They needed me to see that she wasn’t killed in the plane crash, for Hannah to confirm she wasn’t on the plane, before I would believe them.”

“So were they there? Did they see you with Hannah?” My mother asks.

“Maybe. I doubt it. They knew I’d find her.”

“Oh god! Oh god!” Kate says as her chest starts convulsing again.

“Kate, I really can’t fucking take that right now,” I spit at her. She covers her mouth and tries to calm herself.

“What can I do for you?” My mother asks.

“Where’s Mrs. Jones? Bring me my son,” I say, and moments later, Teddy is in my arms, keeping away the pain until we arrive in Seattle.

We’re taxing over the tarmac at SEATAC when I’m finally able to check my voicemail from Welch.

“Mr. Grey, I’ve located Mrs. Grey’s phone,” he says. “She’s at your house.”

I listen to the voicemail three times, sure I’ve heard it incorrectly. There’s no way her phone is at the house. She had it with her in Australia and I haven’t left the house in days, except to go to Los Angeles that is. Shit.

“Where to Mr. Grey?” Taylor asks carefully after we’ve all piled into the Audi SUV.

“Home,” I respond. “And Taylor, I need you to get me there as quickly as possible.”

I burst through my front door and am followed by Kate, Elliot, Mia, Ethan, Taylor and my parents, who all have instructions. Find Ana’s phone. We tear through the downstairs of the house while the security team checks the perimeter for signs of forced entry. When they find nothing, I tell them to help the others look. I fly up the stairs, taking them two at a time and burst into my bedroom door.

There it is. Ana’s phone. It’s sitting on the nightstand, plugged into the charger like she’s just forgot to pick it up after waking up for work in the morning. I approach it cautiously, waiting for it to ring. A musical ringtone fills the air but it doesn’t come from Ana’s phone. I look down at the bed and there is a small box, the label is addressed to me. I rip open the package and a small, pre-paid cell phone falls out, ringing and vibrating in my hands. The number is blocked.

“Hello?” I say cautiously into the phone.

“Chr-ist-ian,” a broken, terrified voice breathes.

I know that voice. Better than anything else in the world. The voice belongs to Ana.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day Seven:

My plane is full. My parents, Mia, Elliot and Kate, Ethan, Mrs. Jones, Taylor, the entire security team, Teddy, and I are on our way to Los Angeles where the cargo ship carrying the survivors of flight Q107 will dock. It’s one thirty in the morning and, barring any delays, we should land right about the same time the ship pulls in.

I’m nervous. Extremely fucking nervous. I don’t like feeling this way. I know she’s on the ship. I know that. She has to be. All of this couldn’t have been for nothing. I haven’t been working non-stop, spending millions of dollars, living through this hell for her to not be on that ship. The news reported a lot of casualties. There were new numbers, higher numbers, coming out with each new report. They have no names. No one has names. Even Commander Murdach couldn’t tell me if my wife had been rescued. There are only numbers. 68 people are on the ship coming home. Flight Q107 had 290 passengers and 68 survived.

I swallow hard, and drum my hand against the armrest of my seat. The sound of my wedding ring against the plastic is loud and sharp. I can’t think about odds right now. I know what the odds are and the more I think about them the harder it is for me to not crumple with pain.

“Christian, what can I get for you?” My mom asks, leaning over the aisle.

“Teddy,” I say hoarsely. “Bring me my son.” She gets up and moves to the back of the plane where Gail is sitting with Teddy. Seconds later she returns and gently lays my baby in my arms. The relief I feel is immediate and I know this is the Ana part of him. Just the way Ana is able to keep my nightmares away, Teddy is able to take away my fear, my worry, my doubt. I stroke the soft, thin hair on the top of his head, lean over, and kiss him on the forehead.

I love you, Theodore, and I love your mother. She’s going to be okay. I’m going to bring her back to you, back to us.

As I enjoy the weight and comforting warmth from holding my son, I imagine how it will be when I see Ana again. I can’t even imagine the relief. To have the fear and the pain and the worry just disappear. If Teddy’s warmth is like a balm, holding Ana in my arms again will be like anesthesia. It will be a cure. I don’t know how I’ll ever let her go again. I want to make love with her, not for the reasons I normally do but because I will only be close enough to her if I’m inside her. Stirrings that I haven’t felt in days begin to re-emerge as I feel my body ache for her.

There is a small sound in my arms as Teddy sneezes in his sleep, his face crumples together and then relaxes as he drifts back into oblivion. I’m going to get Anastasia pregnant again as soon as possible. Teddy has been such a relief to me, such a necessary good. I want as many children as Anastasia is willing to give me. Two, three… twelve. I want them all.

“I’m sorry,” a strained voice across from me sounds. I hear a succession of broken, hitched breathing, followed by an anguished wail, and look up from my son to see that Kate is crying again.

“Hush, baby. It’s going to be okay. They’ve found her, I’m sure of it,” Elliot reassures her.

“He’s right, Katie,” Mia joins in. “It’s going to be okay. If I know Ana, she’s fine. Probably really pissed that’s she’s missed two extra days of work, but she’s gonna be fine.”

Kate chokes as she laughs through her tears. “You’re right, I-I-I know you’re r-r-right.” She stutters.

“Katherine Kavanagh-Grey,” I admonish her. “You know better than anyone else here that Anastasia is the most stubborn, difficult woman alive. Do you really believe she would let something as trivial as a plane crash get in her way?”

“Oh, Christian! Oh god, I know this is a billion times worse for you. If you can keep it together, I can. You’re right. She’s going to be fine, she has to be fine.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand and I turn my gaze back to Teddy. She thinks I’m keeping it together, but in real life I’m being ripped apart by fear. I needed her to stop crying. I can’t handle my own pain, let alone everyone around me.

“Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We are making our final descent into Los Angeles. We should be on the ground in twenty minutes.”

My heart quickens and I take a deep breath to ease my nerves. Carrick reaches over and squeezes my shoulder as we feel the plane lose altitude.

“Mr. Grey, would you like me to take the baby?” Gail asks.

“Not yet,” I say, I’ll keep him until we land.

“Yes, sir.”

There are two black SUV’s waiting on the tarmac for us when we arrive. I take the front seat of the one closest to me and dial the number for search and rescue while I impatiently wait for Kate, Elliot, Ethan, Mia and Taylor to get into the car.

“Search and Rescue,” a quick, tired voice answers. “Please hold.”

“No,” I say loudly and quickly. “I will not hold. Get me Murdach.”

“I’m sorry, sir, we’re fielding a lot of calls at the moment. I’m going to have to place you on hold.”

“This is Christian Grey and if you put me on fucking hold, I’ll have your job.”

“Oh- Oh I’m sorry, Mr. Grey, I didn’t realized. I’ll transfer you right away.” There is a quick interlude of hold music and Murdach answers.

“Hello, Mr. Grey. Are you in Los Angeles?”

“Yes, I just landed. Do you have names for me?” I ask.

“No, sir. The ship is docking as we speak. We won’t have any information until the survivors make their way to the recovery center where we will take their information.”

“They’ve been on a ship for nine hours, why the fuck haven’t they had their information taken yet?”

“Sir, all of the passengers were extremely dehydrated and in need of medical attention and rest. Our first priority was to attend to those needs.”

“I’ll be there in 25 minutes,” I snap. “I don’t want any trouble when I arrive.”

“I’ll see to it, Mr. Grey.”

“See that you do.” I hang up the phone and look over at the speedometer.

“Can’t you drive any faster?” I ask, irritated.

“Sir, I’m doing the speed limit,” the driver responds. My blood boils and I wish I would have asked the rental company to simply drop off the cars. If Taylor was driving, we’d be halfway there by now.

“I didn’t ask if you were doing the speed limit, I asked you to drive faster.”

“Sir, I’m restricted by company guidelines. I cannot drive faster than the legal posted speed.”

I reach around for my wallet and pull out the $800 I have on me and hand them to him.

“I need you to get us there, now,” I say. He reaches out and takes the money and puts his foot down. We fly down the highway towards the marina.

When we arrive, I jump out of the car and practically run to the recovery center. There is a man at the door preventing people from entering off the street and as I shove my way through the crowd of gawkers, he steps in front of me.

“Approved personnel only,” he said sharply to me.

“My name is Christian Grey, I believe that I am approved personnel.” His face shifts and he steps aside, muttering an apology.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey, right this way.”

I don’t bother responding to his apology, I simply continue to push my way forward. When I emerge in the large, crowded room, my stomach churns. There are dozens of people in hospital beds, many suffering from critical injuries including severe burns and dismemberment. Oh shit, I hadn’t considered this possibility. The only thing that had mattered to me up until this point was that Ana was alive. What if she was seriously injured? Maybe this nightmare wasn’t over. Oh god, something could be seriously wrong.

“Can I help you, sir?” A woman in an navy blue jumpsuit asks.

“Anastasia Grey?” I ask desperately. She looks down at her clipboard and frowns. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t have an Anastasia Grey, but we’ve only been able to speak with about 20 or so people. Feel free to look around, it would be very helpful if you were able to identify your loved one.”

I storm past her and look frantically from one injured face to another. There are rows and rows of beds, and on several occasions I have to wait for doctors to be done examining the patient before I can see who they are. As the minutes pass, I become overwhelmed by fear again. Fuck, she has to be here. She has to be here. I run back up the aisles I’ve already searched but I still can’t find her.

My hands shoot up into my hair as I feel the panic begin to set in.

“Anastasia!” I yell, desperately. Answer me, baby. I know you’re here, just answer me.

“Mr. Grey?” A weak voice behind me asks. I whirl around and see Hannah laying the bed behind me with a broken leg.

“Hannah?” I ask, a slight feeling of relief washing over me. Ana was sitting right next to Hannah. If Hannah was able to survive, surely so did Ana.

“Mr. Grey,” She replies with relief. “Where is Ana, did you get Ana?”

Enormous, cathartic relief washes over me. Ana is here, Hannah has seen her.

“No, I haven’t been able to find her yet. Do you know where she is?” I ask. The respite in my voice is obvious. It feels like the first time I’ve been able to speak without yelling in days. Hannah looks back at me confused.

“Sh-she isn’t with you?” She stutters weakly. “I thought you would have got her by now.”

“I’ve only just gotten here, I haven’t been able to find her.”

“She isn’t here, Mr. Grey.”

It feels as though my blood freezes in my veins.

“What do you mean she isn’t here, Hannah? You haven’t seen her?” I demand, my voice hardening once again.

“No,” She whispers, wincing with pain. “Mr. Grey, Ana wasn’t on the plane.”

“What? What do you mean she wasn’t on the plane?” I ask.

“We were running late. She got stopped at security for a random search. She told me to go ahead and she’d meet me on the plane when they were finished, but she never came. She wasn’t on the plane.”

My first reaction is relief. Oh thank god, she wasn’t on the plane. She wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t thirsty. She wasn’t broken, or burned, or cut, or stranded at sea for days. Then my mind catches up. If she wasn’t on the plane, why haven’t I heard from her ? Surely, if she missed her flight she would have called me and asked me to send the jet or at the very least book another flight. I’ve been combing through our bank accounts for the last 24 hours as I’ve been filtering money to search and rescue. There haven’t been any additional flights booked. If she wasn’t on the plane, where the fuck is she?

I turn away from Hannah, reach into my pocket for my blackberry and begin dialing her number furiously. It rings. It’s been off, or dead for days, going to straight to voicemail, but now, it rings.

“Have you figured it out, Grey?” A cold male voice answers. My muscles clench and I feel like my body has frozen.

“Who is this?” I demand. He laughs.

“All you need to know, is that I’m the man who has your wife.”

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day Six:

 

Mommy is in her bedroom. I want to see Mommy but the door is closed. I do not open Mommy’s door when it is closed. When I do, the bad man gives me the burn. I am hungry. I want to tell Mommy that I am hungry so she will make me something to eat. But I cannot get to Mommy. I go to the kitchen and pull a chair against the counter so I can reach the cupboards to find something to eat. The cupboard is empty. There is no food in the fridge.

I hear the front door open and the stomp of boots. Oh no, he’s back. The bad man is back.

“Where are you, you little shit?” I hear him yell, and I run to the kitchen table and crawl under it to hide from him. His boots stomp around the kitchen. He is trying to find me.

“There you are,” he spits at me. I can smell his nasty breath. I cringe away from him but his long arms reach out and pull me from under the table. He drags me, hurting me, from the kitchen to my bedroom and throws me down on the ground. I yell because it hurts and he hits me on my face.

“Look here, you little shit. I’m going to fuck your bitch mother and you’re going to stay in here, do you understand?”

I stare back at him, unable to say words.

“Answer me!” he yells and he hits me again. I nod my head, I will not leave my room.

“You better,” he warns. “If I see your fucking face again tonight, you’ll get the burn.” He pushes me back down and storms out of the room, slamming my bedroom door. I run and hide in my closet. My tummy growls and the sound scares me. I do not want the bad man to hear the sound. Mommy screams again and again and I cover my ears. He is hurting Mommy.

It scares me when I can’t hear the screams any more. He is done hurting Mommy, he is going to hurt me. I crouch down low in the closet hoping my tummy growling doesn’t help him find me. I can hear his boots, they stomp towards me. The sound scares me but it doesn’t stop at my door. He walks through the house and I hear the front door open and close again.

When I’m sure the bad man is gone, I crawl out of the closet to find Mommy. I need Mommy to make me something to eat. I leave my room and look at Mommy’s room. The door is closed. The door is always closed. I don’t open the door when it is closed.

 

“Jesus, Christian!” I hear as I’m violently shaken awake. My head shoots up off my desk and I look around the room disoriented. Where am I? My study, I’m in my study. My shirt is soaked in sweat and my body is shaking. I turn wildly to see who has woken me and I see Mia staring at me with a horrified look in her eyes.

“Christian, what’s wrong? I could hear you screaming from upstairs. You woke the baby.”

I’ve fallen asleep, how could I have fallen asleep? I looked desperately down at my watch to see the time. My arm is sore and I wince as I move. It’s 6 am, Shit! I’ve been asleep for three hours. What has happened in the last three hours? I turn on Mia.

“Ana?” I ask desperately, my voice is so hoarse and weak. It’s painful to speak, my throat is extremely hot and dry. .

“They haven’t found anything yet,” she answers solemnly.

48 hours. Ana has been missing for 48 hours. Best case scenario she is on the plane’s emergency raft adrift in the South Pacific. How long can a human go without water? My head is fuzzy and I’m having a hard time keeping my thoughts straight. 72 hours. I know that. I know a person can go 72 hours without water. I have 24 hours to find my wife before she… No, I won’t think that. I’m going to find her.

“Christian, you look terrible,” Mia says, her voice is full of concern. “You haven’t changed your clothes in days. You need a shower and some food. When was the last time you ate?”

When was the last time I ate? I can’t remember. I don’t feel hungry. I feel nothing but fear. I have 24 hours to find Anastasia before… no, no. I’m going to find her. God, my head is killing me. I need an Advil.

“You need to get up and take care of yourself,” She grasps me by the arm and heaves me to my feet. I’m too weak to resist her and, as I stumble to my feet, everything darkens and I lose my sense of direction and equilibrium.

‘Shit, Christian!” Mia yells as she tries to catch me, but I’m too heavy for her. I hit the ground, hard, and the pain in my head explodes as my head cracks against the floor.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She screams as I roll over and moan, unable to get up by myself. I hear her fumble around and then her panicked voice.

“Mom! I need you to get over here as quick as you can. Christian just fell and hit his head. He can’t move and he can barely talk! Okay… yes, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“M’not leaving,” I mumble, trying, and failing, to get off the ground.

“Hurry, Mom. Please!” Mia says again, her voice choking off as she begins to cry. I hear the phone fall on the desk and then Mia is next to me. I feel her touch my arm and then everything goes black.

When I wake up, I’m in my bed. The sunlight coming in from the floor to ceiling windows of the room makes my head pound. I raise my arm to shield my eyes but it is hindered by something. I look down confused and see an IV in my arm. Where the fuck did this come from? What time is it? My eyes dart around the room until they fall on my mother at the foot of my bed.

“Mom?” I ask.

“Christian, you’re very dehydrated and are suffering from extreme exhaustion. You need to rest,” she says.

I don’t have time to rest. I need to get on the phone, get on the computer. How much time have I lost?

“What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s almost noon.”

Shit! I try to launch myself out of bed, but my mother’s arms shoot out and hold me down.

“Christian, so help me, I’ll sedate you!”

“Mom, please. I have very little time. Please, I have to get to work. I have to find her. Please, she’s running out of time.”

Her eyes are filled with pain as she looks down at me. “I know how worried you are, Christian.”

“No, Mom. No, you don’t. I can’t sit here and not do anything. This is killing me.”

“Okay,” she acquiesces. “You can sit on the couch. You need to rest.”

It’s better than nothing. I can make phone calls from the couch and watch the news. She helps me downstairs and I settle in. Mia brings me a glass of orange juice, a bowl of chicken broth, and my blackberry. I turn on the TV and catch up with the latest in the search. Nothing. They’ve found nothing. No floating survivors, no wreckage. I don’t understand, how does a plane just disappear?

An hour later, I’ve talked to three different press secretaries, the search and recovery lead of Qantas airlines, and four different private investigators. I have no answers. No one knows what caused the crash or even when the plane lost contact with the control tower. I drum my fingers on the arm of the couch as I watch the steady drip of my IV until my mother appears next to me with Teddy in her arms.

“Why don’t you take a turn with the baby?” She suggests.

I glare at her. “I don’t have time for the baby right now. Give him to Gail.”

“No, Christian. This is your son. You may be missing your wife, but he is missing his mother. You need to hold your child.” She reaches down and forces Teddy into my arms and I wince as she bumps into my IV.

“I don’t want to hear another word about it,” she says, and storms out of the room.

I look after her, dumbfounded and then look down to my son. He stares up at me wide eyed for a moment and then his face crinkles and a horrible wail escapes his mouth. Shit, what do I do? What would Ana do? I wrap him in my arms, squeeze him gently, like she showed me, and bounce him up and down. His cries falter as I start to bounce him but return, louder than before.

“Shhhh,” I say, and then remember that when he cries, Ana sings to him. I don’t know any fucking lullabies, what the hell am I going to sing to a baby? I think through as many songs as I can while my son screams at me. Suddenly, my mind conjures up an image, an old image of Ana twirling around my living room at Escala. We’re dancing to Witchcraft. I begin to sing softly.

“Those fingers in my hair. That slight come hither stare. That strips my conscience bare, it’s witchcraft.“

Teddy’s cries soften as I sing and by the time I’ve finished the song, he is asleep. I hear a sniff behind me and turn to see my mother standing in the doorway. She’s crying and when she sees I have noticed her, she walks over to me, kisses my hair, tells me she’ll be right back, and leaves the room.

I look down at Teddy. His slow steady breathing is so calming, like a soothing balm that eases my pain and stress. I feel his warmth wash through me and the tension in my muscles thaws. I didn’t realize how much I needed him until this moment. He is my connection to Ana.

My mom returns with Mia, who is holding a bottle. She reaches out for Teddy and I look at her like she’s crazy. There’s no way I will relinquish my son. Not now that I know what he does for me. She hands me the bottle and I gently brush it against Teddy’s lips. He takes it and begins to eat.

While I feed the baby, I listen to my mom and Mia’s conversation.

“Are you sure that’s okay for a baby so young?” Mia wonders.

“I don’t know what other choice we have. Obviously breast milk is preferable but some babies start on formula from birth.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, shifting Teddy so he’s sitting up more.

“Ana didn’t pump enough breast milk for… for her extended absence. That’s the last of it. I’m going to have to give him formula,” my mom answers.

My brow crinkles as I look back down at my son. “Don’t worry, Teddy,” I say. “I’m going to bring mommy back to both of us. She’ll be back soon.”

My reassurances are disrupted by a the sound of my blackberry ringing. I look down at the number and motion for my sister to take the baby.

“Grey,” I bark into the phone.

“Sir, this is Commander Murdach with Australia Search and Rescue. I’m calling to inform you that we are officially ending the search for Qantas flight Q107.”

“What do you fucking mean you’re ending the search?” I roar, and I see the looks of shock and panic on my mother and Mia’s faces.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s been over 48 hours with no success.”

“48 hours is still in the window for possible survivors!”

“Mr. Grey, we simply don’t have the resources to continue the search. I wanted to let you know before we released a statement to the media so you would have time to prepare your own statement. So that you would have time to prepare yourself for what this means. We are not going to find your wife.”

“No! What resources do you need?” I demand, my voice as cold as ice.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What resources do you need? Planes? Ships? Money? I’ll pay for it all. I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“Sir, we’re talking millions of dollars a day to continue this search.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

“No, sir. I suppose, if you’re willing…”

“I’ll have my people call you. Do not stop the search. It doesn’t end until I say it ends.”

I hang up the phone and make the proper calls to fund the search and rescue team. The next few hours are spent concentrating hard on the beautiful face of my son while I ignore the constant ringing of my blackberry. My accountants, lawyers, and financial advisors have been calling non-stop, trying to advise me against my plan to fund the search, but I don’t care. I don’t care if I lose my house, my company, every cent I have to my name. I will bankrupt myself, gladly, if it means I find Anastasia. Eventually, the calls stop.

My concentration is finally broken by the sound of a breaking news bulletin, and when I look up my heart stops as I read the headline flashing across the screen.

 

Qantas flight Q107 wreckage found

 

“Turn that up!” I yell. Mia furiously pounds on the volume button. My yell has woken Teddy and my mother takes him from me and rocks him as we all listen to the news report.

“CNN can now confirm the wreckage of Qantas flight Q107 has been found along with dozens of survivors. There were several casualties reported but we don’t have accurate numbers to report at this time. Search and Rescue has yet to release the names of the survivors but we will have those names for you as soon as they become available.”

My blackberry rings.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day Five:

 

“What do you fucking mean you have no signal from the black box?” I scream into the phone.

“Mr. Grey, you’re a pilot. Surely I don’t have to explain to you that we have to be within a 15 mile radius of the box to receive a signal, and, calculating the distance of the search and rescue craft off the water, and the distance from the ocean surface to the ocean floor, we could be talking about a margin of error of as little as six miles. The search efforts cover an area of over 12,000 miles. Surely, you can appreciate the difficulty of the situation.”

“What I would appreciate is fewer excuses and more results.”

“Everything that can be done, is being done, Mr. Grey. I assure you.”

“Your assurances mean nothing until you find my wife,” I snap, and hang up the phone.

I’m sitting in my office at home. I haven’t been able to leave the house since the news of the missing flight broke. Several key employees from GEH have temporarily set up office in my house, unable to get their work done without me being in the office. Andrea has set herself up on my breakfast bar and she’s mostly been fielding phone calls, cancelling meetings, and keeping Ros out of my office. I haven’t gotten any business done at all, how could I? I can’t think of anything except Anastasia.

There is a knock on the door, but I ignore it. Andrea enters anyway, a few seconds later. She’s holding a phone against her chest, covering the microphone while she speaks to me.

“Mr. Grey, I have CNN on the line. They’re asking for a statement.” I glare at her.

“Why the fuck are they asking for a statement from me?”

“The passenger list for the flight has leaked, sir. They know your wife was on board.”

Fuck. As if I didn’t have my hands full already, now I’m going to have to be fielding media calls?

“Andrea, what did I tell you this morning? Unless that’s search and rescue on the phone telling you my wife has been found, I don’t want to be interrupted. Is that search and rescue on the phone?”

“No, sir.”

“Then get out of my fucking office!” I scream. She calmly lifts the phone back up to her ear.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Grey has no comment to make at this time,” she says gently as she slowly exits the room. My outbursts don’t even phase her anymore. I’ve been screaming at her all morning. I’ve been screaming at everyone all morning. The only thing I’ve allowed myself to feel is anger. I can’t handle the fear. It’s too much. It consumes me. It ruins me. Anger is safe. I know anger. I am used to anger. Anger is good.

I push away from my desk and head out to check the news headlines on the TV again. The first thing I see when I open the door to my office is Andrea leading Ros away from my door again. I head into the living room and there are dozens of people scattered around, laptops open, but I don’t look at them. I don’t acknowledge any of them. I only look to the TV, which unfortunately is a mistake.

 

Breaking News: Qantas Flight Manifesto Revealed

 

Mia is still on the couch, in the same place she was yesterday. I bark at her to turn the volume up when Anastasia’s name flashes across the screen.

“We have now learned that among the list of passengers of Qantas flight 107 was Anastasia Grey, who you may know as the wife of Seattle billionaire, Christian Grey, the CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings. The couple was married last summer and welcomed a new baby boy, Theodore Raymond Grey, less than 7 weeks ago.”

I have to turn away from the TV as the wedding picture that was run in the Seattle Times flashes on the screen. I can’t see her like that now. Not at her most beautiful. Not looking so happy. Not on the day she officially became mine. A painful shiver reverberates through me and I cringe. The pain is returning. I grip the counter of the breakfast bar and brace myself. Focus on the anger, Grey. Only anger.

“Would you like something to eat, Mr. Grey?” Mrs. Jones asks as she enters the kitchen.

“No,” I snap, without even looking up at her.

I reach into my pocket and dial Anastasia’s number again, hoping against hope, that she’ll answer.

Hi, you’ve reached Anastasia Grey. I’m unable to answer my phone right now so please leave me a message.

“Please, Ana…” I moan desperately into the phone and hang up. Her voice has cut me like a red hot blade fresh out of the flames of the forge.

No, shut it down, Grey. You don’t have time for this shit. You need to focus now. Focus on the anger.

As I stand over the counter trying to regain my control, I hear the baby crying. The sound sets my teeth on edge. My mother rushes into the kitchen, holding him in her arms, and she holds him out for me.

“Christian, I’m sorry. I have patients. I have to go to the hospital. You’re going to have to take Teddy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snap venomously, “I can’t take the fucking baby right now.”

“Christian Trevelyan-Grey!” My mother gasps, pulling the baby back into her chest. “How dare you! Don’t you ever talk about your son like that again. Just because you’re dealing with a tragic situation, doesn’t mean you get to stop being a father.”

I push past her, scowling. “I don’t have time for this shit right now.”

“Christian, you get back here and take your son. You can’t just abandon him.”

“Call a fucking nanny,” I yell and stomp towards my office. Teddy’s cries get louder as I walk away.

“Somebody shut him up, I have fucking work to do!” I slam my office door behind me and slump angrily into my desk. This chair used to be a seat of fucking power, but I don’t feel it now. I’m helpless. I need control. I have to have control and everything is out of my hands right now. I run my hands through my hair as I feel I’m being driven mad by fear and pain. What the fuck am I going to do?

Andrea appears at the door again, not bothering to knock this time.

“Mr. Grey?”

“Andrea, I’m not going to fucking tell you again.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s Governor Warren, returning your call.” My face hardens and I wave her over, reaching my arm out for the phone.

“Governor,” I said coldly.

“Mr. Grey. What can I do for you today?” He asks.

“I want to know why you haven’t offered assistance to increase the search efforts for Qantas flight 107.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey. The responsibility for flight recovery lands on the airline and search and rescue efforts are put in place by the country of the plane’s origin.”

“That’s not good enough,” I snap. “I want the national guard involved.”

“Again, I’m sorry, Mr. Grey. But I cannot allocate state resources simply to find your wife.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Governor. If that’s the way you feel, perhaps I will be unable to allocate my resources to your campaign fund. In fact, I might even have to reallocate my resources to your opponent in hopes of electing a Governor who puts the health and safety of his constituency above all else. I might even be a little extra generous if that were the case.”

“Mr. Grey,” he responds nervously. “Of course, the well being of the people of the great state of Washington is my highest priority. I suppose it wouldn’t be wasteful to send out the national guard. Tell you what, I’ll even make contact with the Governor of California. Perhaps he can have his coast guard get involved, in addition to the National Guard, of course.”

“Excellent, Governor. I appreciate your support.”

“And I shall appreciate your support, come November, Grey.”

“Absolutely,” I promise and hang up the phone.

That’s going to do it, I tell myself. That’s what was needed to bring her home. Fuck, why didn’t I insist she fly on my private plane? Why didn’t I go with her? Better yet, why didn’t I keep her here? Tie her to the bed if necessary! My gut clenches at the last thought, but it’s non-sexual. It’s pain. That’s all there is now, pain, and anger, and fear.

I reach out for my blackberry again. I’m going to find someone who can bring her home if I have to get the President of the United States himself.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

 

Day Four:

 

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Only a day away

Date: July 9th 2012, 07:16 AEDT

To: Christian Grey

I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I can’t wait to get you alone, Mr. Grey.

xx

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing

 

How many times have I read this email since I got it yesterday afternoon? I look at the alarm clock. 2:30am. I’ve looked at the clock every 5 minutes, willing it to move faster. I know I’m not going to find sleep tonight.

My lawyers have officially filed suit to retain the property and profit we’ve lost in Taiwan. Fortunately, they had the foresight when drafting the original contract to ensure a protection of assets clause. And Ana is coming home today. In 7 hours, she’ll be in my arms. I sigh and place my hands behind my head as I run through all of the plans I have for her when she gets home. I’ve decided to keep the nanny on for one additional night. Tonight, I will take Ana out to dinner with my family and then I’ll whisk her off to Escala and my playroom.

I feel myself begin to harden as I think of all the things I’m going to do to her tonight. Patience Grey, all in good time.

I spend the next few hours drifting in and out of sleep. Eventually, I haul myself out of bed at 5:30 and drag myself to the basement gym. After a hard workout, I’m covered in sweat and in desperate need of a shower.

Gail is in the kitchen when I get downstairs.

“Good morning, Mr. Grey. What can I make you for breakfast this morning?”

“An omelette, please,” I say distractedly as I looked down at the screen of my blackberry. I scroll through my emails from this morning. There are two from Andrea, six from Ros, one each from Barney, Welch, and Taylor, and an odd number from department heads throughout GEH. I don’t have any emails from Ana. I thought she would email me when she landed. Her flight from LAX doesn’t leave for another 15 minutes so I decided to call her.

Hi, you’ve reached Anastasia Grey. I’m unable to answer my phone right now so please leave me a message.

Why is her phone off? Has she boarded the plane already? I frown and leave a quick message telling her to call me. Gail sets an omelette in front of me and asks if I want some coffee.

“Yes,” I say shortly, and she furrows her brow with concern before filling a mug with coffee and setting it in front of me.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Grey?” She asks. “Have you heard from Mrs. Grey this morning?”

“No,” I snap and slam the cup of coffee in one scalding hot gulp.

“Good morning,” Mia chirps as she enters the kitchen in her fluffy pink bathrobe. “How did you sleep last night, Christian?”

I frown down at my phone and brush her question off with my hand as I read through Ros’s email. I hear her snort as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” She asks.

“I haven’t heard from Ana and her phone is off,” I say as I respond to Taylor’s email.

“Well she’s been flying all night, maybe she forgot.”

“Forgot what? How to type?” I spit, looking up to glare at her.

“Forgot to call you. She’s probably asleep. The time difference from Sydney is a lot, she’s probably exhausted.”

She better not be, not for what I have planned for her. I might have to refine my plans in the playroom for her decision not to contact me when she landed. A smile creeps across my face as imagine the pale skin of her ass burning and pink.

“What?” Mia asks, confused by my sudden mood change.

“Nothing,” I say, regaining my dark tone. “I need more coffee, Gail.”

She pours me another cup as I quickly type an email to Anastasia.

 

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your transgression

Date: July 9th 2012 6:54 AM PST

To: Anastasia Grey

I’m displeased you haven’t contacted me yet this morning. I expected you to call or email me when you landed.

Christian Grey

Twitchy Palmed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 

“Ugh, what a miserable night,” my mother groans as she enters the kitchen. “Teddy was an absolute nightmare. I don’t know if he slept more than two hours throughout the whole night!”

“Sorry, Mom,” I say as I finish the rest of my coffee and return to my emails.

“Sorry, Mom? That’s all you’re going to say to me? Geesh, I’m glad Ana is coming home today. You’re grumpy when she’s away.

I ignore her as I type an email to Andrea asking her to send me my schedule for the weekend.

“Excuse me, Christian. I’m talking to you,” she snaps.

“Don’t bother, Mom. He’s in a bad mood,” Mia says, picking up her plate and walking into the living room. She turns on the news as she begins to eat her food.

“Are you going to work today?” my mom asks me.

“For an hour or so,” I respond. “Ana’s flight gets in at 9:15 and I’m going to pick her up.”

“What do you have planned for tonight?”

“I thought I’d take the family out to dinner,” I say, not looking up for my phone. It buzzes in my hand and I don’t hear what my mother says to me as I walk away from the kitchen to answer it.

“Ros,” I say sharply.

“Christian, you really need to re-think taking the afternoon off. We’re hitting a snag in the Sudan deal and I don’t think I can handle it without you.”

“South Sudan,” I say, annoyed.

“What?” Ros asks, confused.

“The deal is with South Sudan, Ros. They won their independence in 2011 and it’s kind of a touchy subject. Perhaps you should try to approach the meeting with the right country and you’d have better luck.”

“South Sudan, East Sudan, I don’t care, Christian. I need you in the office today!”

I’m distracted from the phone call by Mia shouting in the living room.

“Oh my god!” She gasps, her hand flying up over her mouth. I turn to see what’s wrong with her and it takes me a moment, but, when I see it, my body seizes with terror. There is a breaking news bulletin flashing across the television screen.

 

Breaking News: Australian flight missing

 

“I’ll call you back Ros,” I snap, hanging up the phone and nearly running into the living room. The newscaster is speaking but I’ve missed the beginning of the news report.

“What was the flight number?” I yell, rounding on Mia, who cowers under my fire filled glare.

“Uh… I think they said… umm Q107, I think.” I turn back on the screen and the flight number flashes in the text box at the bottom of the screen. Mia is right, Q107.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my emails until I get to the email Ana forwarded to me last week with her flight itinerary.

 

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Fwd: Qantas flight confirmation

Date: July 2nd 2012 11:36 AM

To: Christian Grey

Qantas Itinerary Information:

July 6th 2012:

SEA – LAX

Departure: 09:00 AM PST Arrival: 11:13 PST

Passengers: Two

SEAT A101/A102

Flight Number: UA 603

 

LAX- SYD

Departure: 12:30 PM PST Arrival: (July 7th) 09:30 PM AEDT

Passengers: Two

SEAT A101/A102

Flight Number: Q 3312

 

July 9th 2012:

SYD- LAX

Departure 09:00 AM AEDT Arrival: (July 9th) 05:46 AM PST

Passengers: Two

SEAT A101/A102 Flight Number: Q 107

 

LAX -SEA

Departure: 07:00 AM PST Arrival: 09:15 AM PST

Passengers: Two

SEAT: A101 and A102

Flight Number: UA 889

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day Two:

I’m jerked awake by my blackberry buzzing from the nightstand. My first thought is that I’ve overslept, but then I notice it’s still pitch black in my room. I reach over and angrily pull my phone towards me, ready to rip the head off of whoever woke me, but my irritation quickly dissipates as I see an email from Ana.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: G’day from Sydney… or should I say G’night?

Date: July 7th 2012 11:30 PM AETD

To: Christian Grey

Greetings from down under! I have arrived at my hotel in Sydney and am looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Wishing you were here in my bed, Mr. Grey.

Xx

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing.

 

I smile and hit reply.

 

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your Bed

Date: July 7th 2012 04:34 AM PST

To: Anastasia Grey

My thoughts of your bed are quite lascivious, Mrs. Grey. Perhaps you shouldn’t mention such things to me or I might be forced to fly out there. It is July 7th after all and once again, your body is mine for the taking.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

 

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Your thoughts

Date: July 7th 2012 11:41 PM AEDT

To: Christian Grey

Careful, or I just might let you.

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing

 

I groan as, once again, I feel the hardening of my cock. I pick up the phone and dial her number.

“Mr. Grey,” she purrs over the phone.

“Is Hannah with you?” I ask.

“No,” she responds. “Just me all alone in my hotel room.”

“Lie down on the bed,” I command.

“Yes, Sir.” I hear some movement and then her voice comes back to me. “What now?”

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing my black lace thong and your gray Harvard t-shirt.”

“What bra are you wearing?” I ask.

“I’m not,” she responds in a whisper.

“Fuck, Ana. Run your hands over your tits, make your nipples hard through my shirt.”

“Mmmm,” she moans in appreciation. I close my eyes and picture her, laying on top of my bed, the outlines of her nipples clearly visible through my Harvard t-shirt.

“Oh, Ana, baby. I want to sink my teeth into that shirt, bite down on your nipples.” She gasps, and I frown.

“Are you touching yourself, Anastasia?” I demand.

“No,” She responds quickly.

“Good, don’t touch yourself until I tell you to, understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” She breathes and my cock twitches at her words.

“Are your nipples hard, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbles,and I can imagine her squirming over the bed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby. I want to be there. I want to be buried inside of you right now.”

“I want you here too, Christian. Please, keep going.”

“Reach up under my tshirt and slowly run your hands up your stomach to your tits,” I command. Her breathing gets heavier and I know she is doing as I say.

“I want you to kneed your tits for me baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“They’re so big and firm right now. It feels so good. My nipples are so hard.”

“Pinch them, baby. I want to hear you moan.” As I’m rewarded with her answering moan I reach down and pull my boxer briefs off and grasp my now painfully hard cock at the base.

“Christian, please,” she begs. “Please let me touch myself.”

“Oh no, Ana. You’re not getting off yet. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to suck on my nipples while you dip your fingers inside of me. I want you to palm my clit while your fingers massage that magic spot inside of me. And then I want you to take your tongue and run it over my breast, down my stomach and into my dripping wet pussy.”

“Oh god, Ana, I’ve missed how you taste. I want to grab you by the ass and bury my face in you. Fuck, baby.” I’ve started stroking my cock, slowly, so I don’t explode before we’re finished.

“I’m so fucking hard right now, Ana. I could pummel into you for fucking hours I’m so fucking hard.”

“Can I suck your cock for you, baby?”

My breath hitches and I have to stop stroking myself. She almost made me come with those fucking words.

“Mmm, I can imagine how you’d feel in my mouth right now,” she continues. “The head of your cock is so swollen and tight in my mouth, filling my throat perfectly as I take as much of you as I can. I love the way you feel in my mouth baby, hard and soft at the same time.”

I buck my hips forwards as I imagine her head bobbing up and down on my cock.

“I want to fuck that mouth so badly, baby.”

“Christian, I need you inside of me right now.” Her voice is so heady and filled with need that I groan.

“Reach down into your panties, Anastasia. Tell me how wet you are.”

“Mmm, I’m so fucking wet. My panties are soaked.” My cock twinges again, painfully this time, as I imagine peeling her panties off of her and bringing them to my face, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

“Jesus Christ, Ana. I can’t fucking take it anymore. Rub your clit baby, make yourself come for me.”

Her breathing turns into gasps as I imagine her massaging herself under her panties.

“That’s it, baby. Feel it. Now dip your fingers inside of you and swirl them around the front of that delectable pussy of yours.”

“Christian!” She gasps.

“Not yet, baby. Feel it. In and out, just like I do.”

“Christian, I’m going to come.”

“Pull your fingers out and suck your juices off of them. Tell me how you taste.” There is a muted sound of her sucking on her fingers and then a moan of appreciation.

“I’m salty and sweet,” She responds and I groan, no longer able to take it. I reach down, grasp my cock and begin to stroke it furiously.

“Rub your clit, Anastasia. Make yourself come.”

“Aahh!” She screams over the phone as her hand makes contact. “Mmmm, baby, I’m not going to last much longer. Are you stroking your cock for me?

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe, Ana. I’m close baby. I need you to come for me.”

“Christian,” she moans desperately.

“Fuck, Ana. Come Now!” I command, and she screams into the phone.

“I’m coming. Oh fuck, Christian. I’m coming!”

And that’s all I need. Ropes of come fly out of my cock as I writhe in pleasure. It’s everywhere and I’m a sticky fucking mess but I don’t give a shit. I’m in fucking ecstasy as I listen to my beautiful wife come over the phone.

I can hear Ana’s heavy panting as she comes down from her orgasm. She moans slightly and I smile as I imagine her exhausted face, the way she looks every time she comes down from an orgasm.

“I love you,” She whispers.

“I love you too, baby. So much. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Get some, sleep. Call me when you wake up.”

“Mmm,” She responds.

“I love you baby, sweet dreams.”

“Goodbye, Christian.”

“Goodbye, my love.”

The phone goes dead and I lie back for a few moments before I wrench myself up, strip the sheets from my bed, and head for the shower.

When I get out of the shower, the alarm clock tells me its 5:15. I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt and head downstairs to meet Taylor, who is waiting for me in the entryway for our morning run.

“Good morning, sir,” he says, throwing me a water bottle.

“Good morning, Taylor,” I respond. I grab my toe and pull, stretching out my hamstring while I roll my neck from side to side. As I do this, I notice a light coming from the kitchen behind me. Who would be up this early?

“Are you ready, sir?” Taylor asks.

“Hold up, Jason,” I say and walk towards the kitchen. Mrs. Jones is leaning against the counter, watching a bottle rotate around the microwave. She is humming and I notice Teddy tucked into her arm.

“Gail?” I ask, and she turns to me with a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Grey. Are you ready for breakfast?”

“No, I was going on a run with Taylor when I saw your light. Does Theodore eat this early every morning?”

“Yes sir,” she responds. “And several times throughout the night. Usually Mrs. Grey wakes up with him but I’ve taken over this week so that your mother and sister can get some sleep.”

“Oh,” I respond. I walk towards her and reach my arms out for my son. She hands him to me willingly as the microwave signals the bottle is ready.

“Good morning, Teddy,” I say softly, cradling him in my arms. He looks up at me with Anastasia’s eyes, his mouth opening in a small “o” and then closing again.

“He’s hungry,” Mrs. Jones says softly and she reaches for him.

“I think I’d like to feed my son,” I say, shifting the baby so that I can hold him with one arm and take the bottle with the other. Mrs. Jones’ face lights up with delight as she hands me the bottle.

“You’ll want to hold him up a bit, not so flat,” She tells me. “Make sure you’ve got his head. Yes, that’s exactly right.”

I bring the bottle up for Teddy and he takes it willingly. He watches me while he eats and I stare back into his perfect blue eyes. This child has me completely captivated. He is Anastasia. He is me. The best of both of us, combined together to create this perfect little boy.

“Sir?” a voice behind me interrupts. I shift and see Taylor staring at me confused.

“I’ll just be a moment, Taylor,” I say and turn my gaze back to my son. Before he has finished with the bottle, I hear a discomforting sound and, when the smell hits me, I cringe.

“I’ll take him, Mr. Grey,” Mrs. Jones says and I gladly hand him to her to change.

“Okay, let’s go,” I say, turning back to Taylor, and as I exit the kitchen, my mother appears. She kisses me on the cheek, tells me she loves me, and hurries off after Mrs. Jones.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Not only have I made progress in my new infrastructure project with South Sudan, I have learned to change a wet diaper, and to give Teddy a bath. Now I’m sitting on the couch with my mother and Mia again, Teddy asleep in my arms while Mrs. Jones cleans the dinner dishes.

With one hand, I reach for my blackberry and slowly type an email to Ana.

 

From: Christian Grey

Subject: SOS

Date: July 7th 2012 07:30 PM

To: Anastasia Grey

Please come home so I can send my mother and sister away, this is the second night in a row I’ve been subjected to Keeping Up with the Kardashians. I miss you and love you.

Christian Grey

CEO Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc

 

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: RE: SOS

Date: July 8th 2012 02:30 PM AEDT

To: Christian Grey

I’m sending in the troops, no one should be subjected to such torture. 🙂

I miss you too. This summit wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. I can’t stop worrying about Teddy.

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing

 

I open the camera on my phone, take a picture of the sleeping baby in my arms, and text it to Ana. She responds a minute later.

 

You’re going to make me cry. We make beautiful children, Mr. Grey.

 

I smile and put the phone away, thinking I might join Teddy in a nap. Instead, I decide to get up and put him down for the night. Then I disappear into my office so I can research Taiwanese preventative measures against piracy and their government compensation policies for damaged and stolen property. I need to call my lawyer in the morning and have them review our contract. This shit is costing me a lot of money. I wish this deal had been someone else’s doing so could fucking fire them, but I was the one who had begun negotiations with Taiwan so there is no one to direct my anger at.

It’s nearly midnight when I hear my phone buzz. I look down and see a text from Ana. It’s a picture and when I open it, my mouth pops open. She’s standing, naked in front of the mirror. Her hand partially over her vagina, just enough so that I can see she’s touching herself, but not enough so that I can’t see her. I stare longingly at the photo when my phone buzzes again. Another picture. This time, she’s bending over in front of the mirror, taking the picture over her shoulder so I have an amazing view of her ass. My cock twitches and I want to text her back and tell her to stop. I need to fuck her, it’s been to long. The phone buzzes again but this time it isn’t a text, she’s calling me.

“Ana,” I answer smoothly.

“Did you get my texts?” She asks.

“Yes, I did. I enjoyed them very much. When did you become so brazen, Mrs. Grey?”

“Since I haven’t gotten to fuck my husband in almost two months, Mr. Grey.”

“Don’t worry, that will be rectified as soon as possible. I may have to fuck you in the car on the way home from the airport.”

“I’m sure Taylor would appreciate that.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Taylor does and does not appreciate. The only thing I care about is how soon I can bury myself in you.”

“How was your day?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Fine. Productive. You?”

“Long,” she sighs. “I’ve got the second part of the summit tomorrow and then I’m on a plane home first thing Monday morning.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day and I have an early morning.”

“Laters baby,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. She laughs.

“Laters.”

I hang up the phone and go back into my text messages to look at the pictures she sent again. Soon, I push away from the desk and hurry up to my bedroom so I can enjoy my wife in private.

 

CHRISTIAN’S POV

Day One:

I’m in a meeting when my blackberry buzzes.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: My Arrival

Date: July 6th 2012 11:13 AM

To: Christian Grey

I have arrived at LAX safely. My flight for Sydney will depart in a little over an hour.

Xx

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing.

 

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your Arrival and Departure

Date: July 6th 2012 11:15 AM

To: Anastasia Grey

I’m very happy to hear you have arrived, Mrs. Grey, and I do hope your flight to Sydney is just as safe. I love you, and miss you already. Please come home.

Christian Grey,

CEO, and desperately lonely husband, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I have packed as many things into these next four days as I possibly could so that I wouldn’t have time to miss Anastasia. I know it is a fruitless effort on my part and now there will simply be an outrageous amount of stress piled on top of my longing for her. I shake my head as I feel the emptiness the thought of her absence always brings up. Get your shit together, Grey. She’s only going to be gone for four fucking days.

When I arrive at home after work, the baby is crying. I can hear my mother and Mia arguing in the living room over what to do and, when I walk past them, I see the nanny standing next to them uncomfortably as they ignore her completely. I should just let the woman go. There is no way between Mia and my mother the woman will ever even touch Teddy.

My mother bounces the baby up and down as he continues to wail, so, I set down the glass of wine Mrs. Jones has poured for me, walk over to her, and reach out for my son. The line in my mother’s brow deepens as she hands Teddy to me and I envelope him in my arms. I bring him into my chest, squeezing him gently as I bounce him up and down.

“Hush now,” I breathe over him and his cries start to dissipate. He grows steadily more quiet while I bounce him until, eventually, he falls asleep. I continue to bob him up and down as I watch his shallow breaths go in and out. I still love the way he smells. I can’t get over his beautiful face, so much like Ana’s. He’s perfect, so fragile in my arms. I haven’t quite mastered this dad thing yet, but my devotion to this perfect little baby is unquestionable.

My blackberry buzzes in my pocket and I look up to my mother, who is already holding her arms out for my son with a stupid grin on her face. I hand Teddy to her, reach into my pocket, and pull out my blackberry.

“Ros?” I answer, walking back towards the kitchen for my wine. The phone conversation is long. There is a problem with the shipyard in Taiwan. The Taiwanese government has been experiencing problems with pirates. Fucking pirates. We’ve had several damaged vessels and even more shipments go missing over the past few months and I’m ready to dump the whole fucking thing.

When I finally get off the phone with Ros, Teddy has been put to bed and my mother and Mia are eating spaghetti on the couch in front of the TV, watching some show where a bunch of whiny sounding girls complain about nothing.

I grab a plate and sit next to them, but quickly find that I have no interest in the show they are watching.

“How can you watch this shit?” I ask incredulously.

“Shh!” They hiss together in unison, waving their hands to silence me. I finish what’s on my plate, take it to the sink, and head off for Teddy’s room.

I don’t know how long I stand over him watching him sleep, but I don’t care. I’m utterly obsessed with him. It’s like when I first met Ana and couldn’t get her out of my mind. Like when I watched her sleeping in the Heathman the first night she stayed with me. I want to reach down and scoop him into my arms, hold him against my chest, but I’m afraid I’ll wake him. So I lean down over the bars of the crib, plant a soft kiss on his head, and creep from the room as silently as possible.

The sounds from the living room have ceased and I look down at my watch. Holy shit, it’s 2 in the morning. I trudge my way up the stairs and strip out of my clothes, not bothering to throw them in the hamper for Mrs. Jones. I’ll just give her a bonus for having to deal with me while my wife was away.

The bed feels too big without Ana and I don’t like it. I try to imagine her next to me, but those thoughts quickly turn into images of her under me. I groan as I feel my erection begin to build under the covers. Ana has been off limits since Teddy was born and six weeks is way too long to go without sex. The strain of my erection against my Calvin Klein’s is uncomfortable now and I sigh as I climb out of bed, head to the bathroom and fix Ana’s face in my mind as I stroke my cock until I come.

 

ANA’S POV

“Phone charger, check. Toiletry bag, check. Where is that gray pencil skirt? Oh, there it is. Okay, I think I have everything.

I close the over packed suitcase and reach out to drag it to the floor, but am stopped by a pair of strong hands.

“Mrs. Grey, you heard what the doctor said. No heavy lifting for three months.”

I turn around to face my husband, who looks down at me disapprovingly. A smile breaks across his face as I take my hands off the suitcase and lift them up to him in defeat. He eases my baggage onto the floor, wraps his arms around me, and then pulls me into his chest, kissing my hair as in inhales deeply.

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

“Christian, we’ve been over this. I have to go. This is a very important summit for Grey Publishing. It will expose our authors to international markets.”

“Then let me come with you.”

I glare at him, not willing to have this argument for the hundredth time.

” We can’t both leave Teddy, and he’s too young to travel that far. I’m only going to be gone for four days. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“But your green light day is tomorrow,” he pouts. “I’ve been deprived of your for six weeks, Ana. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

“It’s only three more days, Christian.”

“What am I going to do with the baby for four days? I don’t know anything about babies. What if something happens? What if he gets sick? What if he chokes, or falls out of the crib, or smother’s himself or…”

“Christian!” I stop him. “You’ll be fine. I’ve hired a full time nanny for the next four days in addition to Mrs. Jones’, who has agreed to remain on call for the duration of my absence, and your mother and sister are going to be here. If you need more help than that you can call Kate.”

Christian narrows his eyes. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“No,” I reply playfully and walk past him to the dresser to pick up my blackberry. His arms wrap around me again and he presses himself to me. I can feel his erection against my behind.

“God, I need you Ana.”

I twist out of his grip, look at him firmly, and hold up two fingers, which makes him pout again.

“Blue balls again today.”

I laugh as he reaches over to pick up my suitcase to carry down the stairs towards the front door. As we walk through the big house towards the kitchen, I reach down and dial Hannah’s number.

“Good morning, Mrs. Grey,” Hannah answers on the third ring.

“Good morning, Hannah. Are you all set for Australia?”

“Yes, ma’am. I have your itinerary for the summit and our reservation confirmations in my carry on.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you at the airport in 45 minutes.”

“Yes, Mrs. Grey. See you then.”

“Bye, Hannah.”

“Bye.”

I hang up the phone and take the glass of orange juice Mrs. Jones hands to me. Grace walks towards me from the family room with a huge smile on her face, my 6 week old baby in her arms.

“Oh Ana, I’m not happy you’re leaving, but I am very happy to spend the next four days with my beautiful grandson,” she coos.

“Thank you for helping us out, Mom,” I respond with a smile. She reaches out, hugs me with one arm, and then passes Teddy to me. My heart wrenches as I fight the maternal instincts that tell me what a horrible mother I am for leaving my new baby.

No, I reason with myself. I want to continue working and if I don’t go on this trip it will be only a matter of months before Christian convinces me to quit altogether.

I kiss the top of Teddy’s head and gently squeeze him.

“I’ll miss you baby boy,” I whisper, and hand him back to Grace.

“Mrs. Grey, I have the car ready whenever you are,” Taylor says from the entrance to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Taylor. I’m ready.” Christian hands him the suitcase and reaches out for me again. He kisses me deeply, intimately. A little too intimately for the room crowded with our loved ones, but I don’t mind. I hate being away from him and I’m just as desperate for this kiss as he is.

“I love you,” he whispers as he breaks the kiss at last.

“I love you, more,” I reply.

“Please don’t go,” He begs softly into my hair.

I ignore him, reach my face up to his for one last quick kiss, and then push away from him to follow after Taylor.

“Call me when you get there,” Christian says.

“I will,” I promise, and, with that, I’m out the door.