Pablo Neruda
BOOK IV
CHAPTER II
PAIN of DEATH
My heart and my world are shattered beyond recognition with her confirmation. Why then did she say she’d never leave me before? Was it part of a grander scheme? I want to believe that she loved me. How can I though? I’m unlovable. Unworthy. I have to know why she was with me if she didn’t love me. She told me she didn’t care about my money at every chance she got. Why now? The idea that she might have wanted me for money is killing me. I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want my dad or Elena to be right.
I thought the love we had was sacred. What I feel for her is sacred. It will never change.
Even if all she wanted from me was money. But I need to hear this from her even it kills me.
“But why the cash? Was it always the money?” I ask finally in a barely audible voice, the torment of my soul is evident in every syllable I utter.
“No,” comes through a teary whisper. It’s me, then. I screwed it up.
“Is five million enough?” I ask. What is five million when I lose my soul, the love of my existence?
“Yes,” she whispers.
“And the baby?” I ask. I don’t recognize my own voice. I am losing my wife, and my child. She finally saw that I’m unfit to be a father, to be her husband. We argued before.
Fought. Sulked for days. But we always found a way to make up. What about our baby?
How can I possibly worry the loss of someone whose existence scared the life out of me? But I do.
“I’ll take care of the baby,” she murmurs. She sounds like she’s made up her mind, further breaking my heart, killing me slowly.
Killing me Softly – Roberta Flack
“Is this what you want?” I ask, tormented. I have to know. I want to beg her, see a shred of hope. Please tell me ‘no’! Give me something to fight with.
“Yes,” she replies emotionless.
I think the pain of death is preferable to this one single word; because I’m dying. I inhale sharply, painfully. She plunges the final stab into my heart and twists the knife with this one word, one confirmation. “Take it all,” I hiss. I’ve lost her. Nothing else matters. Property, money, company… They mean nothing without her. She’s stripped me bare of my soul; no need to protect the shell.
“Christian…” she sobs. I feel the love in that one word, and maybe it’s my mind’s self-preservation, a wishful thinking, trying to make me believe what isn’t there. The ache is sharp; my heart is bleeding, cut into a thousand pieces. “It’s for you. For your family.
Please. Don’t,” she begs, tearfully.
“Take it all, Anastasia,” I choke. Love destroyed me. But, I would rather love her all my life and feel this pain, than go through an existence devoid of loving her.
“Christian—“she begs. My mind is betraying me once again making me feel her love that isn’t there.
“I’ll always love you,” I declare my love in a hoarse, cracking voice, and hang up on her.
Michael Bublé – That’s all
Taylor is on the phone talking to someone, but I don’t care. I’m collapsed on the floor next to Charlie Tango heaving, trying to push the sobs back, and they keep coming back relentlessly, incapacitating me. I need to call the bank back and get Whelan on the phone. I will still do what Ana wants, what she needs from me. She can get all the money she wants from me. Everything if that’s what she desires… I call the banker’s direct line.
“Troy Whelan speaking.”
“It’s Christian Grey. I’ve spoken to my wife,” I say fighting to push the emotions back.
My wife… Am I calling her by that title for the last time? “Give her the money.
Whatever she wants.”
“Mr. Grey, I can’t…” he starts his usual shit about how this is so irregular, out of their norm. I cut him off. Today is the last day I want to listen to anyone whine.
“Liquidate five million of my assets. Off the top of my head: PKC, Georges, Atlantis Corps, Ferris and Umatic. A million from each.”
Then he starts the same shit I expected him to say:
“Mr. Grey, this is highly irregular. I’ll have to consult with Mr. Forlines.”
“I’m playing golf with him next week,” I hiss at him. “Just fucking do it Whelan. Find a way, or I’ll close all the accounts and move GEH’s business elsewhere. Understand?” I shout my demands.
Whelan is speechless at the end of the line. Taylor is on his phone and pacing back and forth, wearing a track on the tarmac and is getting louder than I am.
“Are you absolutely sure?” he bellows. The tone of his voice briefly diverts my attention.
“When?” He stops in his place. “What time exactly?” He says and checks his time; his eyes widen and he stiffens in his tracks.
“Why the fuck would you wait to call this long? You fucking charge over a $1,000 an hour! If Mr. Grey doesn’t fire your ass…” he says and stops. His voice switches from a furious tone to Defcon-1.
“You did? I don’t give a shit! Do you realize that it’s been four hours since he was released? Who did they release him to?... Do you have an address?” his eyes widen with the response hegets. “You, fucking incompetent bastard! Stop yapping! Hang on!” he says and walks towards me, his gaze somber, full of rage, looking like an uncaged predator, mirroring me. He’s put his Blackberry to his chest to muffle our conversation from whoever is on the other end of the line.
“We’ll sort the fucking paperwork out later,” I add, my attention drifting to Taylor.
“Yes, Mr. Grey,” says Whelan and I hung up. I rub my eyes, both hands in my hair pulling forcefully as look at Taylor.
“Ana’s leaving me, Taylor,” I mutter with agony in my voice, my soul is desolate. “But I still want to go to the bank and want her to tell me that to my face. I deserve better than a phone call from a bank manager, I think! She can give me that much. Then I’ll let her go. It should take the bank a little while to complete the procedure,” I say.
“I put my reputation on the line that she isn’t leaving you! I know caddy bitches, and Mrs. Grey isn’t one. This isn’t her way, Mr. Grey! ” Taylor says with speedy fervor.
“She’s withdrawing five million dollars. It’s over… I fucked it up,” I say as my entire body is trembling.
“The hell it’s over, Mr. Grey! I need you to run with me to the SUV please,” he says and continues talking full speed as he yanks my arm. “I have profiled countless people in the past. Even a blind man would know that she doesn’t care about your money! Your fucking incompetent attorney just informed me that Hyde is out on bail!"
"What?" I ask stopping in my tracks.
"Jack Hyde is released on bail!" he repeats.
"When?"
"Sometime this morning. Mrs. Grey withdrawing five million bucks just after the fucker’s release from jail can’t be a coincidence."
"Do you think he's blackmailing her with something?"
"I don't know. There's a lot of missing pieces in this story, and not everything is what it seems. It's possible. The asshole been out for the last four hours or possibly more! I’ll tell you the details in the car, sir. Can we keep please keep running? We don’t have a second to lose!” he says emphatically, angry and for the first time I realize that Taylor, too has lost control. Then he holds his Blackberry on his ear but I extend my hand firmly for the phone as we run through the parking lot to get to the SUV.
“With fucking pleasure!” he says and thrusts the phone into my hand.
“Who the hell is this?” I bark, adrenaline coursing through me, giving me a shot of energy. A weak voice answers.
“It’s Trent Baxter, sir. Nearly three hours ago, we were informed that Mr. Hyde was released on bail.”
“And you call us now?” I shout, my blood boiling. “My wife may be in danger because of my fucking attorneys’ incompetence!”
“We tried to call you hour and a half ago sir, but both your phone and Taylor’s went to voice mail. We tried calling GEH, and your assistant told us that you were in Portland, and may be in mid-flight which is why we waited to call you until this time.”
“You said three hours,” I say my voice is low and deadly as I continue to run faster than I ever did and we make it to the SUV within excruciatingly long few minutes. “Three fucking hours!” I shout to the top of my lungs. “Three hours ago I was available! You were supposed to prevent this from happening, and if there was an off chance that he was to be granted bail, you were to be informed immediately, and inform me!! I’ll deal with your fucking ass tomorrow!” I growl with malice as slide into the passenger seat of the SUV. Taylor hits the gas before we close the doors.
“I’m sorry Mr…” he says, but I hang up, cutting him off. After handing Taylor his Blackberry, I immediately dial Anastasia’s phone on my own Blackberry. Now that I know the fucker Hyde is granted bail and like a moronic petulant adolescent I didn’t speak to my wife for the last couple of days I’ve no idea where we stand. Something is definitely off, and somehow Taylor’s trust in her chagrins me in the lack of trust I had in my own wife. This is not Anastasia’s way. She would tell me off if she really didn’t want me. If Hyde is behind this, I have to find out. She said, ‘no’ at first when I asked her if she was leaving me. Her shock in hearing my question was as great as mine in asking it. Then she changed her mind in a split second. Something is horribly wrong with this picture. I wait on the line as Anastasia’s phone rings and rings ominously, but she doesn’t answer. I hang up, my insides are twisting.
I speed dial Sawyer then put the Blackberry in the cradle.
“Mr. Grey, I’m at the bank,” he answers without waiting for me to say a word. His voice echoes through the speakers in the SUV’s sound system.
“Do you see Mrs. Grey? Did you get to talk to her?”
“She’s just walking out with the bank manager,” he says and waits. “I’m looking at her right now. She’s holding her finger, saying, just a minute…” he says waits.
“We’re on our way to the bank! Keep her there until we get to the bank!”
“Taylor, ETA?” I ask turning to him.
“Ten minutes,” he says as he floors the gas.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you manage to keep her there?” I ask acidly.
“She just walked back to the manager’s office. The manager is looking surprised by her going back to the room. He just followed her back into his office. Oh shit, Mr. Grey! I have a feeling she’s going to try to evade me again, sir. But, I’m not leaving without her!” he says with determination.
“Sawyer, we’re going to cross under the bridge, the reception may get lost. Stay with her! We’ll be there in a few minutes!” I urge him. I press my foot down on the floor as if I too have an access to the accelerator. But of course I don’t. The line goes dead.
My heart is drumming in my ears. My hands are fisted, rattling the center console.
“She ain’t in it for your money, Mr. Grey!” Taylor says fervently, his gaze fixed on the road.
“Maybe not… But I’ve been ass.”
"I really am mad at her for not coming to us if Hyde is blackmailing her! But, I can't focus on that right now. We have to rescue her from Hyde!"
"What if she really is...leaving?" I ask, my voice low.
“Mr. Grey. Let’s focus on what we do know, the facts: If Mrs. Grey was in it for money, she would have taken a lot more. I will speak out of turn, but to give you an unbiased perspective. Five million is pocket change for you, sir! You are worth twelve billion Dollars, for God’s sake!”
“She said she didn’t want it when I told her to take everything…” I mutter.
“That doesn’t sound like someone who is there to take your money! I have an ominous feeling that Mrs. Grey is in imminent danger. I think she’s acting this way because fucking Hyde is out of jail on bail! We don’t know the connection yet, sir. Every fiber in my being is telling me that Hyde has something to do with this. He might be threatening her. With what? That, I don't know,” he bellows.
A violent shudder goes through me as if someone walked over my grave. My breathing increases and my gaze is fixed on the road ahead trying to get to my wife. Taylor hits the breaks and the tires screech and leave a long trail of skid marks as he overshoots the bank’s parking lot. He immediately makes a right turn into the parking lot as the tires drag and the vehicle tilts to left momentarily, then parks the SUV right in front of the bank. Without turning the car off, we both rush into the bank. We find Sawyer arguing with the bank manager loudly.
“I'm asking you one last time: Where did Mrs. Grey go?” he is barking at Whelan.
“If you do not remove yourself from our bank, I will have you forcefully removed, sir,”
Whelan is threatening Sawyer. An armed security guard is approaching towards the small cluster of two. As Taylor and I rush into the bank full speed, we come to a skidding halt and barely avoid a collision with two.
“Where is my wife?” I ask Whelan.
“Mr. Grey!” Whelan gushes. “This gentleman has been most impolite seeking the whereabouts of Mrs. Grey,” he complains.
“Of course he does, you fucking ass! He’s her personal bodyguard! Where did Mrs.
Grey go?” Whelan’s mouth drops open, and he gestures the bank guard away. The patrons and employees alike are focused on our group, and watching us.
“Mrs. Grey saw this gentleman here, and said that someone was following her, and she wanted to exit from the rear of the bank…” he says, and “through the employee exit,”
he qualifies.
“Did you give her the money?”
“Yes sir.”
“Track the car!” I order Sawyer.
“That’s the thing sir. The car is immobile. It’s parked right here,” Sawyer lifts up his phone to show me the dot marking her vehicle.
“I can answer that,” says Whelan trying to get on my good side. “Mrs. Grey left in a black Dodge SUV. A female friend of hers came to pick her up in black pants and shirt
and a baseball cap. Come to think of it, Mrs. Grey was very surprised and rather unhappy to see her there. I couldn't say the same about the other person, though.”
“What did she look like? Come on man, speak!” I shout.
“Well, tall, slim, dark hair. She had nondescript clothing, all black and a baseball cap as I said, and sunglasses. But Mrs. Grey recognized her and called her ‘Elizabeth’.”
“Fuck! Elisabeth Morgan?”
“She didn’t say the last name.”
“I’ve got the cell phone on the move!” Taylor says and shouts to the Whelan as he’s heading towards the exit. “Call the cops! This might be a kidnapping!” and we run out to the SUV to follow the signal from Anastasia’s Blackberry.
“Wait!” shouts Whelan behind us as he’s trying to catch up in rapid steps. “This might be important. After Mrs. Grey went back into my office, she asked me to give her a few minutes to make a phone call. Then, right before we went out from the backdoor she asked me to lend my cell phone to her which I did and of course and she now has my phone with her. Does it make sense to you? Because it sure doesn’t to me…” he says.
“Of course it does! She knew her cell phone would be taken and she wanted to be found! Check for your cell phone in the bushes, someplace inconspicuous, trash, dumpster behind the bank. If it's there, we know for sure that they've kidnapped her!” I shout. "If you find it, make sure the cops know that this is a kidnapping!" I hear gasps among the female patrons and employees alike and a few of them already make their way to the back of the bank to assist the manager. My wife knew I would track her! She was leaving breadcrumbs, clues behind her so to speak. This is a life and death situation. We run out at top speed.
Taylor and I jump back into the SUV and Sawyer follows us. Taylor puts his phone in the cradle. The red dot indicating Ana’s Blackberry moves on the map becomes my life line, symbolizing my wife’s position, telling me that she’s alive. Things slowly start falling into place. I’m both hopeful and terrified. Hyde attempted to kidnap, torture and fuck my wife; that’s why he was in jail. Now that he succeeded in kidnapping her, I’m writhing in agony in my seat with worry eating me up alive.
“Let’s move fucking faster, Taylor!” I bellow. Taylor runs every red light, swerves, and weaves between cars, and even drives on the sidewalk narrowly avoiding a few pedestrians before he can jump the SUV in front of a Ford Sedan. I see the red dot
coming to a halt by the old industrial part of town. Most of those buildings are abandoned, and I seriously start fearing for her life more than ever. Because the red dot is ominously blinking in the same spot on the map. Did they dump her phone, or did they take her out of the car? What are they doing to her? If Ana was getting the money for herself, she wouldn’t be going to a fucking abandoned factory! I know she’s kidnapped by Hyde. And that gut wrenching feeling is tearing me apart. It’s now a race between life and death! My legs are shaking; my hands are fisted repeatedly thumping like the four horsemen of the apocalypse.
“ETA is two minutes!” Taylor warns, momentarily breaking my ominous thought. I start praying. “Please let her be okay! Please, don’t let harm come to my wife and my
“ETA is two minutes!” Taylor warns, momentarily breaking my ominous thought. I start praying. “Please let her be okay! Please, don’t let harm come to my wife and my