Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian (Fifty Shades 6)

I sit beside her and wait.

Kate barges into the room without knocking.

“Kate. Hi.”

She nods a greeting and strides straight to Ana’s bed and takes her hand. “How is she?”

I’m too tired for this. “Unconscious.”

“Ana! Ana! Wake up,” Kate barks.

For fuck’s sake. The tenacious Ms. Kavanagh is here. “I’ve tried, Kate. I’ve been assured that she’ll wake in her own time.”

Kate presses her lips together. “She doesn’t have the sense that she was born with.”

I can’t argue with that.

She turns to me. “How are you holding up?”

Her inquiry into my well-being is a surprise. “I’m fine. Anxious. Tired.”

She nods. “You look it. You two make up?”

I sigh. “Not exactly. When she wakes…” I trail off.

Weirdly, Kate seems to accept this, and doesn’t give me a hard time. “So, what happened? How did she end up here?” She folds her arms, and because it looks like I won’t get rid of her any other way, I give her the executive summary of Hyde’s kidnapping of my sister and Ana’s heroic but utterly foolhardy rescue.

“Shit!” Kate says when I finish. “What the hell was she thinking? She’s supposed to be the smart one.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, Christian—she loves you very much.”

“I know. She wouldn’t be here like this if she didn’t.” I clench my jaw in self-loathing for doubting her.

“Tell her I was here.”

“I will.”

“Hope you get some sleep.” She gives Ana a last glance and squeeze of her hand, and then she’s gone.

Thank God.

A knock on the door wakes me, and Detective Clark appears. He’s the last person I want to see. I don’t want to share my wife with anyone, not when she’s like this.

“Sorry to disturb you. I was hoping there might be a chance to talk to Mrs. Grey.”

“Detective, as you can see, my wife is in no state to answer any of your questions.” I stand to greet him, feeling like shit. I just want this man to go.

Fortunately, his visit is brief but informative. He tells me that Elizabeth Morgan is cooperating fully with the police. It seems Hyde had compromising videos of her, so he was able to coerce her into helping him. It was Morgan who lured Mia out at the gym.

“Hyde’s a twisted son of a bitch,” mutters Clark. “He has a serious grudge against your father, and you.”

“Do you know why?”

“Not yet. I’ll be back when Mrs. Grey wakes. She’s safe here. We have Hyde handcuffed to the bed, under police guard 24/7. He’s not going anywhere.”

“That’s reassuring. Will we get our money back?”

Clark frowns.

“The ransom.”

He smiles, briefly. “Eventually, Mr. Grey.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he says.

“Thank you.”

I grimace at Detective Clark’s back as he closes the door.

Hyde is here, somewhere in this hospital, because my wife put a bullet in him.

Anger surges through me again.

I could find him and finish the job.

He’s under guard, Grey. I hope to God he’s incarcerated for a very long time.

Dr. Bartley returns. “How are you doing, Mr. Grey?”

“I’m fine. It’s my wife I’m concerned about.”

“Well, I’m here to take a look at her.”

I stand back and let her do her checks.

“Why hasn’t she woken?” I ask.

“It’s a good question. I would have expected her to by now. What she’s been through was traumatic, though, so maybe she needs a little more down time to process it all. Was she under any other stress?” Dr. Bartley gives me a direct look and I flush, guiltily.

“Well, um…the pregnancy?” I keep my answer vague.

“I have an idea that may bring her around, but it might take a while to see if it works. Besides, I’m not happy catheterizing pregnant women for a long period of time. It runs the risk of UTI.”

“Okay, sure. Do I need to leave?”

“It’s up to you.”

“I’ll go fetch some coffee.”

Out in the corridor, my phone buzzes. It’s John Flynn.

“Christian. I heard about Ana. How is she?”

I sigh and give him the bullet-point summary. “She’s expected to wake at any time. It’s just—”

“I know. This must be hard on you. I’m sure she’s in capable hands. I got a missed call from you the other day. I was at my son’s parent-teacher conference.”

Ah. The night of my transgressions. It would have been great if he’d answered the phone.

“We’ll talk next week?” Flynn asks.

“Yes.”

“If you need me, I’m here.”

“Thanks, John.”

“Hello, darling.” Grace arrives during the evening carrying a small cooler bag.

“Mom.”

She hugs me briefly, then scrutinizes my face, her eyes full of concern. “When did you last eat?”

I gaze at her blankly while I try to remember. “Breakfast?”

“Oh, Christian, it’s after eight. You must be famished.” She strokes my cheek. “I’ve brought macaroni and cheese. I made it for you.”

I’m so tired that the burning in my throat moves to my eyes. “Thanks,” I whisper, and in spite of the fact that my wife has still not surfaced, I’m hungry.