What a repulsive thought.
“Christian, I think you should talk to your mom and dad.” She squirms, and I release her legs, but she shuffles down into the bed so we’re facing each other.
“Let me call them,” she offers in a tender whisper. I shake my head. “Please,” she pleads. Her expression is as compassionate and sincere as ever. Her eyes brimming with love.
Perhaps she’s not comparing me to Hyde.
Should I call my parents? Maybe they can offer the missing pieces on these fragments of my past. They’re bound to remember, surely.
“I’ll call them,” I murmur.
“Good. We can go see them together, or you can go. Whichever you prefer.”
“No. They can come here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you going anywhere.”
“Christian, I’m up for a car journey.”
“No.” I give her a lopsided smile. “Anyway, it’s Saturday night; they’re probably at some function.”
“Call them. This news has obviously upset you. They might be able to shed some light.” Ana’s words are stirring. As I gaze into her eyes, there’s no judgment there, only her love shining through the cracks into my darkness.
“Okay.” I’ll play it her way. I pick up the bedside phone and call my parents’ home. Ana snuggles up to me while I wait for an answer.
“Christian.” Carrick’s voice has never been more welcome.
They’re home! “Dad!” I can’t hide my surprise.
“Great to hear from you, son. How’s Ana?”
“Ana’s good. We’re home. Welch has just left. He found out the connection.”
“Connection? With what? With who? Hyde?”
“The foster home in Detroit.”
Carrick is silent on the other end of the phone.
“I don’t remember any of that.” My voice wavers as my shame and simmering anger surface, a poisonous cocktail. Ana hugs me tighter.
“Christian. Why should you? It was long ago. But your mother and I can fill in the gaps, I’m sure.”
“Yeah?” I hate the hope in my voice.
“We’ll come over. Now, if you like?”
“You will?” I can scarcely believe it.
“Of course. I’ll bring some paperwork from that time with me. We’ll be there soon. It will be good to see Ana, too.”
Paperwork?
“Great.” I hang up and regard Ana’s curious expression. “They’re on their way.” I still can’t hide my surprise.
I ask my parents for help…and they come running.
“Good. I should get dressed,” Ana says.
I tighten my hold on her. “Don’t go.”
“Okay.” She bathes me in a loving smile, and she snuggles once more into my side.
Ana and I stand arm in arm in the doorway of the living room to welcome my parents. My mother lights up when she sees Ana, her joy and gratitude obvious to each of us. Reluctantly, I release my wife into my mother’s embrace. “Ana, Ana, darling Ana,” she says, and I have to strain to hear her. “Saving two of my children. How can I ever thank you?”
Yep. Mom’s right. She’s saved me, too.
Dad hugs Ana, his eyes shining with paternal affection. He kisses her forehead. From behind them Mia, whom I wasn’t expecting, appears and pulls Ana into a fierce hug.
“Thank you for saving me from those assholes!”
Ana winces.
“Mia! Careful! She’s in pain.” My shout startles everyone.
Of course. They brought Mia because Mom doesn’t want to let her out of her sight. She was drugged and kidnapped only a few days ago. My irritation at my baby sister evaporates.
“Oh! Sorry,” she says goofily.
“I’m good,” Ana says, giving Mia a tight smile.
Mia barrels over to me and curls her arm around me. “Don’t be so grumpy!” she scolds me quietly.
I scowl at her and she pouts playfully at me.
Damn. I hug her tightly to my side.
Thank God she’s okay.
My mother joins us, and I hand her the photographs from Welch. Grace examines the picture of the family. She sucks in a breath and covers her mouth. Dad joins us and winds his arm around her shoulders as he also scrutinizes the family picture.
“Oh, darling.” Grace reaches up and places her palm against my cheek, her eyes stricken with shock and dismay.
Why? Did she not want me to know about this?
Taylor interrupts us. “Mr. Grey, Miss Kavanagh, her brother, and your brother are coming up, sir.”
What the hell? “Thank you, Taylor.”
“I called Elliot and told him we were coming over,” Mia pipes up. “It’s a welcome-home party.”
Mom and Dad share an exasperated look. Ana’s glance is sympathetic. “We’d better get some food together. Mia, will you give me a hand?”
“Oh, I’d love to.” She grabs Ana’s hand and they head over into the kitchen area.
Mom and Dad follow me into my study, and I offer them each a seat in front of my desk. I lean back against it, suddenly aware that this is how my father would perch in his study as I stood in front of him while he lectured me about my latest misdemeanor. The tables have been well and truly turned, and the irony is not lost on me. I need answers and they’re here—so presumably they’re willing to shed some light on this dark chapter in my life. I mask my anger and gaze at both of them expectantly.