Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 231

Fucking Hyde. “And you gave Sawyer the slip. He’s mad at you, as well,” I mutter.

“As well?”

“As well as me.”

She raises her hand, her fingertips once more caressing my face. Closing my eyes, I lean in to her

touch, savoring the feel of her fingers skating over my stubble. “Don’t be mad at me. Please,” she

whispers.

“I am so mad at you. What you did was monumentally stupid. Bordering on insane.”

“I told you, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t seem to have any regard for your personal safety. And it’s not just you now.”

But before she or I can say anything further, the door opens and Dr. Bartley strides in. “Good evening,

Mrs. Grey. I’m Dr. Bartley.”

I give her a nod and step away so she has room to examine my wife. While she’s doing that, I call Dad

to let him know that Ana is awake.

“Oh, that’s great news, son.” He pauses, and I know he’s listening to Grace. “Your mother says to

apologize.”

“I’ll do that, Dad.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Carrick sounds confused.

“It’s a long story.”

“Okay. Give Ana our love. We’ll come see her tomorrow.”

I call Carla to give her the good news.

“Thank you, Christian!” she sobs through her tears.

Next, Kavanagh. “Thank God,” Kate says. “And I hope you two have made up.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, though it’s none of her fucking business. “I’ve got to call Ray.” Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“Okay,” Kate says. “And tell Ana no more chasing kidnappers.”

“Will do.”

Ray is so relieved, he’s silent for several seconds while he gathers himself. Eventually he says, “I

appreciate the call, Christian. Tell Annie I love her.”

“Will do, Ray.”

When I finish my call to my father-in-law, Dr. Bartley is prodding my wife’s ribs. Ana winces. “These are

bruised, not cracked or broken. You were very lucky, Mrs. Grey.”

Ana glances at me. “Foolhardy,” I mouth.

I’m still fucking angry with you, Ana.

“I’ll prescribe some painkillers. You’ll need them for this, and for the headache you must have. But all’s

looking as it should, Mrs. Grey. I suggest you get some sleep. Depending on how you feel in the

morning, we may let you go home. My colleague Dr. Singh will be attending you then.”

“Thank you.”

A loud knock, and Taylor enters carrying a hefty box from the Fairmont Olympic.

“Food?” Dr. Bartley says, surprised.

“Mrs. Grey is hungry,” I inform her. “This is chicken soup.”

“Soup will be fine, just the broth. Nothing heavy.” She looks pointedly at both of us, then exits the room

with Nurse Nora.

There’s a wheeled tray in the corner. I maneuver it over to Ana, and Taylor places the box on it.

“Welcome back, Mrs. Grey,” he says with a fond smile.

“Hello, Taylor. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, ma’am—” He stops, and I glance up at him as I unpack the box. I think he

wants to say more. Perhaps to scold Ana? I wouldn’t blame him, but he just smiles at her.

In addition to the thermos with soup, there’s a small basket of bread rolls, a linen napkin, a china bowl,

and a silver spoon.

“This is great, Taylor,” Ana says.

“Will that be all?” Taylor asks.

“Yes, thanks,” I say. He can go back to bed.

“Taylor, thank you.”

“Anything else I can get you, Mrs. Grey?”

She looks at me and arches a brow. “Just some clean clothes for Christian.”

Taylor glances at me and smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”

What? I check my shirt. I’ve not spilled anything down it.

But I haven’t washed or shaved for days.

I must look like shit.

“How long have you been wearing that shirt?” Ana asks.

“Since Thursday morning.” I give her an apologetic shrug and Taylor leaves us. “Taylor’s real pissed at

you, too,” I add, and unscrew the lid of the thermos to pour the soup into the bowl.

Ana dives in with an eagerness I’ve never seen before. At the first mouthful she closes her eyes as if in

ecstasy.

“Good?” I perch on the bed once more.

She nods enthusiastically and takes another spoonful, then pauses to wipe her mouth on a linen

napkin. “Tell me what happened—after you realized what was going on.”

“Oh, Ana, it’s good to see you eat.”

“I’m hungry. Tell me.”

I frown, trying to remember the order in which everything happened. “Well, after the bank called, and I

thought my world had completely fallen apart—”

Ana stops and gazes at me, looking lost.

“Don’t stop eating, or I’ll stop talking.” I sound far sterner than I intend. She flattens her lips, but

continues to eat. “Anyway, shortly after you and I had finished our conversation, Taylor informed me

that Hyde had been granted bail. How, I don’t know; I thought we’d managed to thwart any attempts at

bail. But that gave me a moment to think about what you’d said, and I knew something was seriously

wrong.”

“It was never about the money,” she snaps, suddenly raising her voice. “How could you even think

that? It’s never been about your fucking money!”

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