Chapter Twelve
“I thought you were born here in Seattle,” I murmur. My mind races. What
does this ha一ve to do with Jack? Christian raises the arm covering his face,
reaches behind him, and grabs one of the pillows. Placing it under his head,
he settles back and gazes at me, his expression wary. After a moment he
shakes his head.
“No. Elliot and I were both adopted in Detroit. We moved here shortly after
my adoption. Grace wanted to be on the west coast, away from the urban
sprawl, and she got a job at Northwest Hospital. I ha一ve very little memory of
that time. Mia was adopted here.”
“So Jack is from Detroit?”
“Yes.”
Oh . . . “How do you know?”
“I ran a background check when you went to work for him.”
Of course he did. “Do you ha一ve a manila file on him, too?” I smirk up at him.
Christian’s mouth twists as he hides his amusement. “I think it’s pale blue.”
His fingers continue to run through my hair. It’s soothing.
“What does it say in his file?”
Christian blinks. Reaching down he strokes my cheek. “You really want to
know?”
“Is it that bad?”
He shrugs. “I’ve known worse,” he whispers.
No! Is he referring to himself? And the image I ha一ve of Christian as a small,
dirty, fearful, lost boy comes to mind. I curl around him, holding him tighter,
pulling the sheet over him, and I lay my cheek against his chest.
“What?” he asks, puzzled by my reaction.
“Nothing,” I murmur.
“No, no. This works both ways, Ana. What is it?”
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Fifty Shades Freed
I glance up assessing his apprehensive expression. Resting my cheek upon
his chest once more, I decide to tell him. “Sometimes I picture you as a child
. . . before you came to live with the Greys.”
Christian stiffens. “I wasn’t talking about me. I don’t want your pity, Anastasia.
That part of my life is done. Gone.”
“It’s not pity,” I whisper, appalled. “It’s sympathy and sorrow—
sorrow that anyone could do that to a child.” I take a deep steadying breath
as my stomach twists and tears prick my eyes anew. “That part of you
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