Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

so guilty. I don’t want to make him feel worse.
    “She does seem to have an uncanny ability to evade us,” he adds scowling again.
    “Ethan and I will go for a quick drink then head back to Escala.” I dry my eyes.
    Taylor shuffles from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Mr. Grey wanted you to go back to the apartment,” he says quietly.
    “Well, we know where Leila is now.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “So, no need for all the security. Tell Christian we’ll see him later.”
    Taylor opens his mouth to speak and then wisely closes it again.
    “Do you want to leave your bag with Taylor?” I ask Ethan.
    “No, I’ll keep it with me, thanks.”
    Ethan nods at Taylor, then ushers me out of the front door. Too late, I remember that I’ve left my purse in the back of Audi. I have nothing.
    “My purse—”
    “Don’t worry,” Ethan murmurs, his face full of concern. “It’s cool, it’s on me.”

    We choose a bar across the street, settling onto wooden bar stools by the window. I want to see what’s going on—who’s coming, and more importantly who’s going. Ethan hands me a bottle of beer.
    “Trouble with an ex?” he says gently.
    “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I mutter, abruptly guarded. I can’t talk about this—I have signed an NDA. And for the first time, I really resent that fact and that Christian’s said nothing about rescinding it.
    “I’ve got time,” Ethan says kindly and takes a long slug of his beer.
    “She’s an ex, from years back. She left her husband for some guy. Then a couple of weeks or so ago he was killed in a car crash, and now she’s come after Christian.” I shrug. There, that didn’t give too much away.
    “Come after him?”
    “She had a gun.”
    “What the fuck!”
    “She didn’t actually threaten anyone with it. I think she meant to harm herself. But that’s why I was so worried about you. I didn’t know if you were in the apartment.”
    “I see. She sounds unstable.”
    “Yes, she is.”
    “And what’s Christian doing with her now?”
    The blood drains from my face and bile rises in my throat. “I don’t know,” I whisper.  
    Ethan’s eyes widen—at last he’s got it.  
    This is the crux of my problem. What the fuck are they doing? Talking, I hope. Just talking. Yet all I can see in my mind’s eye is his hand, tenderly stroking her hair.  
    She’s disturbed and Christian cares about her , that’s all this is, I rationalize. But in the back of my mind, my subconscious is shaking her head sadly.  
    It’s more than that. Leila was able to fulfill his needs in a way I cannot. The thought is depressing.  
    I try to focus on all we’ve done in the last few days—his declaration of love, his flirty humor, his playfulness. But Elena’s words keep coming back to taunt me. It’s true what they say about eavesdroppers.
    Don’t you miss it . . . your playroom?
    I finish my beer in record time, and Ethan lines up another. I am not much of a companion, but to his credit he stays with me, chatting, trying to lift my spirits, talking about Barbados, and Kate and Elliot’s antics, which is wonderfully distracting. But it’s just that—a distraction.  
    My mind, my heart, my soul are all still in that apartment with my Fifty Shades and the woman who used to be his submissive. A woman who thinks she still loves him. A woman who looks like me.
    During our third beer, a large cruiser with heavily-tinted windows pulls up next to the Audi in front of the apartment. I recognize Dr. Flynn as he climbs out, accompanied by a woman dressed in what look like pale blue scrubs. I glimpse Taylor as he lets them in through the front door.
    “Who’s that?” Ethan asks.
    “His name’s Dr. Flynn. Christian knows him.”
    “What kind of doctor?”
    “A shrink.”
    “Oh.”
    We both watch, and a few minutes later they are back. Christian is carrying Leila who is wrapped in a blanket. What? I watch horrified as they all climb into the cruiser, and it speeds away.  
    Ethan glances at me sympathetically, and I feel desolate, completely desolate.
    “Can I have something a bit stronger?” I ask Ethan, my voice small.
    “Sure. What would you like?”
    “A brandy. Please.”
    Ethan nods and retreats to the bar. I gaze through the window at the front door. Moments later Taylor emerges, climbs into the Audi, and heads off toward Escala . . . after Christian? I don’t know.
    Ethan places a large brandy in front of