Fifty Shades Darker(81)

"No news, Miss Steele."

Abruptly, the doorknob moves. Sawyer spins like a top and draws a gun from his shoulder holster.

I freeze. Christian appears at the door.

"All clear," he says, frowning at Sawyer, who puts his gun away immediately and steps back to let me in.

"Taylor is overreacting," Christian grumbles as he holds out his hand to me. I stand gaping at him, unable to move, drinking in every little detail: his unruly hair, the tightness round his eyes, the tense jaw, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. I think I must have aged ten years. Christian frowns at me in concern, his eyes dark.

"It's alright, baby." He moves toward me, enveloping me in his arms, and kisses my hair. "Come on, you're tired. Bed."

"I was so worried," I murmur, rejoicing in his embrace and inhaling his sweet, sweet scent with my head against his chest.

"I know. We're all jumpy."

Sawyer has disappeared, presumably into the apartment.

"Honestly, your exes are proving to be very challenging, Mr. Grey," I mutter wryly.

Christian relaxes.

"Yes. They are."

He releases me and taking my hand, leads me across the hallway and into the great room.

"Taylor and his crew are checking all the closets and cupboards. I don't think she's here."

"Why would she be here?" It makes no sense.

"Exactly."

"Could she get in?"

"I don't see how. But Taylor is overcautious sometimes."

"Have you searched your playroom?" I whisper.

Christian glances quickly at me, his brow creasing. "Yes, it's locked - but Taylor and I checked."

I take a deep, cleansing breath.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Christian asks.

"No." Fatigue sweeps through me - I just want to go to bed.

"Come. Let me put you to bed. You look exhausted." Christian's expression softens.

I frown. Isn't he coming, too? Does he want to sleep alone?

I'm relieved when he leads me into his bedroom. I place my clutch bag on the chest of drawers and open it to empty the contents. I spy Mrs. Robinson's note.

"Here." I pass it to Christian. "I don't know if you want to read this. I want to ignore it." Christian scans it briefly and his jaw tenses.

"I'm not sure what blanks she can fill in," he says dismissively. "I need to talk to Taylor." He gazes down at me. "Let me unzip your dress."

"Are you going to call the police about the car?" I ask as I turn around.

He sweeps my hair out of the way, his fingers softly grazing my naked back, and tugs down my zipper.

"No. I don't want the police involved. Leila needs help, not police intervention, and I don't want them here. We just have to double our efforts to find her." He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

"Go to bed," he orders and then he's gone.

I lie, staring at the ceiling, waiting for him to return. So much has happened today, so much to process. Where to start?

I wake with a jolt - disorientated. Have I been asleep? Blinking in the dim glow the hallway casts through the slightly open bedroom door, I notice that Christian is not with me. Where is he? I glance up. Standing at the end of the bed is a shadow. A woman, maybe?

Dressed in black? It's difficult to tell.

In my befuddled state, I reach across and switch on the bedside light, then turn back to look but there's no one there. I shake my head. Did I imagine it? Dream it?