oss three lanes. We speed past the slower vehicles
and then cut back to the fast lane.
“Nice move, Mrs. Grey,” Christian murmurs appreciatively. “Where 92 | P a g
e
E L JAMES
are the cops when you need them?”
“I don’t want a ticket, Christian,” I mutter, concentrating on the highway
ahead. “Ha一ve you had a speeding ticket driving this?”
“No,” he says, but glancing quickly at him, I can see his smirk.
“Ha一ve you been stopped?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Charm, Mrs. Grey. It all comes down to charm. Now concentrate. Where’s
the Dodge, Sawyer?”
“He’s just hit one hundred and ten, sir.” Sawyer says. Holy fuck! My heart
leaps once more into my mouth. Can I drive any faster? I push my foot down
once more and streak past the traffic.
“Flash the headlights,” Christian orders when a Ford Mustang won’t move.
“But that would make me an asshole.”
“So be an asshole!” he snaps.
Jeez. Okay! “Um, where are the headlights?”
“The indicator. Pull it toward you.”
I do it, and the Mustang moves aside though not before the driver wa一ves his
finger at me in a none-too-complimentary manner. I zoom past him.
“He’s the asshole,” Christian says under his breath, then barks at me, “get off
on Stewart.”
Yes sir!
“We’re taking the Stewart St. exit,” Christian says to Sawyer.
“Head straight to Escala, sir.”
I slow, check my mirrors, signal, then move with surprising ease across four
lanes of the highway and down the off-ramp. Merging onto Stewart Street, we
head south. The street is quiet, with few vehicles. Where is everyone?
“We’ve been damned lucky with the traffic. But that means the Dodge has,
too. Don’t slow down, Ana. Get us home.”
“I can’t remember the way,” I mutter, panicked by the fact the Dodge is still on
our tail.
“Head south on Stewart. Keep going until I tell you when.”
Christian sounds anxious again. I zoom past three blocks but the lights
change to yellow on Yale Avenue.
93 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
“Run them, Ana,” Christian shouts. I jump so hard I floor the gas pedal,
throwing us both
本章未完，点击下一页继续阅读。