Thank fuck.
She’s here. With me.
I blow out a long, steadying breath as I try to clear my head.
What the hell was that about?
I rarely dream about Elena, much less about that horrific moment in our shared history. I shudder as I lie staring at the ceiling, and I know I’m too wired to get back to sleep. I contemplate waking Ana—wanting to lose myself in her once more—but I know that’s not fair. Last night she more than proved her stamina; she has to work later today and she needs her sleep. Besides, I’m ill at ease, my skin’s crawling, and the nightmare has left a sour taste in my mouth. It must be the severing of my friendship and business relationship with Elena that’s haunting my psyche. After all, Mrs. Lincoln has been my lodestar for over a decade.
Shit.
It had to be done.
It’s over. All of that is over.
Sitting up I run my hand through my hair, careful not to disturb Ana. It’s early—5:05—and right now, I need a glass of water.
I swivel out of bed and find I’m standing on my tie, discarded after last night’s diverting shenanigans. A delicious memory of Ana invades my senses, her hands bound above her head, her body rigid, her head tipped back in ecstasy as she clutches the pale gray slats of the headboard, while I lavish my attention on her clitoris with my tongue. It’s a much more pleasing recollection than the remnants of my nightmare. I pick up my tie, fold it, and place it on the nightstand.
It’s unusual for me to have nightmares when Ana is sleeping beside me. I hope it’s a one-off. I’m grateful that I have an appointment with Flynn later today so I can dissect this new development with him.
Pulling on my PJ pants, I grab my phone and exit the bedroom. Perhaps some Chopin or Bach will soothe me.
As I sit down at the piano, I check my messages, and there’s one from Welch, left at midnight, that catches my eye.
Welch
Sabotage suspected.
Initial report first thing this morning.
Fuck. My scalp tingles as the blood drains from my head.
My fears have been confirmed. Someone wants me dead.
Who?
My mind rolls through the few business associates I’ve outplayed over the years.
Woods? Stevens? Carver? Who else? Waring?
Would they stoop to this?
They all made money; lots of money. They just lost their companies. I can’t believe this could be connected to my commercial activities.
Perhaps it’s personal?
There’s only one person who looms large in that regard and it’s Linc. But Elena’s ex-husband already took his revenge on her, and that was years ago. Why would he act now?
Perhaps it’s someone else. A disgruntled employee? An ex? I can’t think of anyone who would do this. Apart from Leila, they’re all doing well.
I need to process this.
Ana! Shit!
If they’re coming after me, they could hurt her. Fear steals through me like a ghost, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I have to protect Ana at all costs. I text Welch.
Meet this morning.
8 am Grey House
Welch
Copy
I text Andrea so she can clear any meetings I may have, then e-mail Taylor.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sabotage
Date: June 21 2011 05:18
To: J B Taylor
Welch has informed me that Charlie Tango may have been sabotaged. The initial report will be with us later this morning. We’re meeting at Grey House at 8 am.
Reinstate Reynolds and Ryan if they’re still available. I want Ana accompanied at all times. Sawyer can stay with her today.
Thanks.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I need to release all my pent-up nervous energy and decide on a workout. Sneaking into my closet, I change quickly and quietly, not wanting to wake Ana.
While I run on the treadmill, I watch the markets on TV, listen to the Foo Fighters, and wonder who the hell wants to kill me.
Ana smells of sleep and sex and a fragrant orchard in the fall. For a moment I’m transported to a happier time, when I’m hassle free, and it’s just me and my girl. “Hey, baby, wake up.” I nuzzle her ear.
She opens her eyes, and her face, already soft from sleep, glows like a golden dawn. “Good morning,” she says, and runs her thumb across my lips, then gives me a chaste kiss.
“Sleep well?” I ask.
“Hmm…you smell so good. You look so good.”
I grin. It’s just a well-tailored suit. “I have to go into the office early.”
She sits up. “Already?” She glances at the radio alarm. It’s 7:08.
“Something’s come up. Sawyer will stick close today and keep the press at bay. You okay with that?”
She nods.
Good. I don’t want to frighten her with the news about Charlie Tango.
“I’ll see you later.” I kiss her forehead and leave before I’m tempted to stay.
The report is brief.
FAA Accident and Incident Reporting System (AIRS)
GENERAL INFORMATION
Data Source: ACCIDENT AND INCIDENT DATABASE
Report Number: 20110453923