ens in sympathy.
“Are they still in Portland?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Good. I ha一ve to keep Christian safe. My hand strays down to my belly, and I
rub it consciously. And you, Little Blip. Keep you both safe.
“Can we hurry please? I’m not feeling well.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sawyer presses the accelerator and our car glides through the
traffic.
Mrs. Jones is nowhere to be seen when Sawyer and I arrive at the
apartment. Since her car is missing from the garage, I assume she’s running
errands with Ryan. Sawyer heads for Taylor’s office while I bolt to Christian’s
study. Scuttling in panic around his desk, I wrench open the drawer to find the
checkbooks. Leila’s gun slides forward into view. I feel an incongruous
twinge of annoyance that Christian has not secured this weapon. He knows
nothing about guns—jeez, he could get hurt.
After a moment’s hesitation, I grab the pistol, check to ensure it’s loaded,
and tuck it into the waistband of my black slacks. I may need it. I swallow
hard. I’ve only ever practiced on targets. I’ve never fired a gun at anyone; I
hope Ray will forgive me . I turn my attention to tracking down the right
checkbook. There are five, and only one is in the names of C. Grey and Mrs.
A. Grey. I ha一ve about fifty-four thousand dollars in my own account. I ha一ve no
idea how much money 415 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
is in this one. But Christian must be good for five million dollars, surely.
Perhaps there’s money in the safe? Crap. I ha一ve no idea of the number.
Didn’t he mention the combination was it his filing cabinet? I try the cabinet,
but it’s locked. Shit. I’ll ha一ve to stick to plan A. I take a deep breath and, in a
more composed but determined manner, stride to our bedroom. The bed
has been made, and for a moment, I feel a pang. Perhaps I should ha一ve slept
here last night. What is the point of arguing with someone who, by their own
admission, is fifty shades? He’s not even talking to me now. No—I do not
ha一ve time to think about this.
Quickly, I change out o
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