r, staring out the balcony doors.
“It’s a big place. You ha一ven’t seen it all yet.”
“Why don’t you just call her . . . tell her you want to
talk to her?”
“Anastasia, she’s unstable, and she may be armed,” he
says irritably.
“So we just run?”
“For now—yes.”
“Supposing she tries to shoot Taylor?”
“Taylor knows and understands guns,” he says with
distaste. “He’ll be quicker with a gun than she is.”
“Ray was in the army. He’s taught me to shoot.”
“Ray was in the army. He’s taught me to shoot.”
Christian raises his eyebrows and for a moment looks
utterly bemused. “You, with a gun?” he says incredulously.
“Yes.” I am affronted. “I can shoot, Mr. Grey, so
you’d better beware. It’s not just crazy ex-subs you need
to worry about.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, Miss Steele,” he answers dryly,
amused, and it feels good to know that even in this
ridiculously tense situation, I can make him smile.
Taylor meets us in the foyer and hands me my small
suitcase and my black Converse. I am stunned that he’s
packed me some clothes. I smile shyly at him with
gratitude, and his returning smile is swift and reassuring.
Before I can stop myself—I hug him, hard. He’s taken by
surprise, and when I release him, he’s pink in both cheeks.
“Be careful,” I murmur.
“Yes, Miss Steele,” he mutters.
Christian frowns at me and then looks questioningly at
Taylor, who smiles very slightly and adjusts his tie.
“Let me know where I’m going.” Christian says.
Taylor reaches into his jacket, pulls out his wallet, and
hands Christian a credit card.
“You might want to use this when you get there.”
Christian nods. “Good thinking.”
Ryan joins us. “Sawyer and Reynolds found nothing,”
he says to Taylor.
“Accompany Mr. Grey and Miss Steele to the
garage,” Taylor orders.
The garage is deserted. Well, it is nearly three in the
morning. Christian ushers me into the passenger seat of the
R8 and puts my case and his bag in the trunk at the front
of the car. The Audi beside us is a complete mess—every
tire slashed, white pain
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