Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 97

Ana nervously scans the room. Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

Baby, no one can hear us. I tilt my head and whisper in her ear, “Only if you misbehave, Mrs. Grey.”

She squirms in my arms, and her face breaks into an impish grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Does she know how adrift I felt a moment ago?

Does she say this stuff to bring me back?

I don’t know, but right now, my heart swells with my love for her.

My answering grin is just as broad. “Let’s go.”

“It’s so good to see you so happy, darling,” Grace says, her gaze unwavering as she presses her palm

against my cheek.

“Thanks for lunch.” I give her a quick peck.

“You are welcome, always, Christian. This is your home, too.”

“Thank you, Mom.” I pull her into an impulsive hug. She beams up at me, then turns her attention to

Ana, hugging her hard. When I manage to pry Ana from my mother’s clutches, we wave our good-byes

to everyone else and head to the car. As we do, it occurs to me that her decrepit Beetle must have

been a stick shift too.

Let’s do this, Grey.

“Here.” I toss the R8 key at Anastasia. She catches it with one hand. “Don’t bend it or I will be fucking

pissed.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is full of excitement.

“Yes, before I change my mind.”

What’s mine is yours, baby. Even this…I think.

She lights up like Christmas, and rolling my eyes at her elation, I open the driver’s door to let her in.

She starts the engine before I’m even in the car.

“Eager, Mrs. Grey?” I ask as I fasten my seat belt.

“Very.” She flashes me a wild-eyed smile and I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake. She doesn’t take

the top down—my girl is not wasting any time. Slowly, she reverses so that she can turn the car around

in the driveway. I glance behind us, and Sawyer and Ryan are scrambling into the SUV.

Where were they?

Ana reaches the end of the driveway and glances nervously at me. Her early bravado has slipped a

little. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” I lie.

She inches out into the road and I brace myself. As soon as she’s on the pavement, she puts the pedal

to the metal and we shoot down the street.

Fuck. “Whoa! Ana! Slow down! You’ll kill us both!”

She eases off the accelerator. “Sorry,” she says, but I know from her tone she’s anything but, and I’m

reminded of our time, only yesterday, on the Jet Ski.

I smirk at her. “Well, that counts as misbehaving.”

Ana slows down a little more.

Good. That’s got her attention.

She drives steadily along Lake Washington Boulevard and through the Tenth Street intersection. My

phone buzzes. “Shit.” I struggle to retrieve it from my jeans. It’s Sawyer. “What?” I snap.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Grey. Are you aware of the Black Dodge following you?”

“No.” Turning around, I survey the street behind us through the cramped rear window of the R8, but as

we’re on a bend, I don’t see any cars.

“Mrs. Grey is driving?”

“Yes. She is.” Ana turns onto Eighty-Fourth Avenue.

“The Dodge set off after you left. The driver was waiting in the car. We ran the plates. They’re fake. We

don’t want to take any chances. Could be nothing. Or it could be something.”

“I see.” Myriad thoughts dart through my mind. Maybe this is just a coincidence. No. After everything

that’s happened recently, this can’t be a coincidence. And whoever is following us could be armed. My

scalp prickles with alarm. How could this have happened? Sawyer and Ryan were out there the whole

time. Weren’t they? They didn’t think it odd that someone was sitting in a car? Did it follow us to my

parents’ place?

“Do you want to try to lose them?” Sawyer asks.

“Yes.”

“Will Mrs. Grey be okay?”

“I don’t know.”

When has she ever let me down?

Ana is concentrating on the road ahead, but her earlier spirit has vanished and her grip on the steering

wheel has tightened; she’s figured out something’s wrong. “We’re fine. Keep going,” I tell her in the

most soothing tone I can muster.

Her eyes widen, and I know I’ve failed to reassure her.

Shit. I pick up the phone again. Sawyer is talking. “We haven’t been able to get a close look at the

driver. The 520 is probably the best place to try. Mrs. Grey could try to lose them there, too. The Dodge

is no match for the R8.”

“Okay, on the 520. As soon as we hit it.” I say.

Damn, I wish I was driving.

“We’ll be right behind the Dodge. We’ll try to come alongside it. Are you okay with this?

“Yes.”

“Do you want to put us on speaker, so Mrs. Grey can hear us?”

“I will.”

I slot the phone onto the speaker cradle.

“What’s wrong, Christian?”

“Just look where you’re going, baby,” I murmur gently. “I don’t want you to panic, but as soon as we’re

on the 520 proper, I want you to step on the gas. We’re being followed.”

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