Fifty Shades Darker (book 5) novel Chapter 71

“So did I, if I recall, Miss Steele. We aim to please. And it means you’re mine, completely.”

“Yes, I am. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Your biological father, do you know who he was?”

Her question is completely unexpected. I shake my head. She surprises me again. I never know what’s going on in that smart brain of hers. “I have no idea. Wasn’t the savage who was her pimp, which is good.”

“How do you know?”

“Something my dad—something Carrick said to me.”

Her look is expectant, urging me on. “So hungry for information, Anastasia.” I sigh and shake my head. I don’t like thinking about this time in my life. It’s difficult to separate the memories from the nightmares. But she’s persistent. “The pimp discovered the crack whore’s body and phoned it in to the authorities. Took him four days to make the discovery, though. He shut the door when he left. Left me with her. Her body.”

Mommy is asleep on the floor.

She has been asleep for a long time.

She doesn’t wake up.

I call her. I shake her.

She doesn’t wake up.

I shudder and continue. “Police interviewed him later. He denied flat-out I had anything to do with him, and Carrick said he looked nothing like me.”

Thank God.

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Anastasia, this isn’t a part of my life I revisit very often. Yes, I remember what he looked like. I’ll never forget him.” Bile rises in my throat. “Can we talk about something else?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s old news, Ana. Not something I want to think about.”

She looks guilty and, knowing she’s gone too far with these questions, changes the subject. “So, what’s this surprise, then?”

Ah. She remembered. Now, this I can deal with. “Can you face going out for some fresh air? I want to show you something.”

“Of course.”

Great! I swat her behind. “Get dressed. Jeans will be good. I hope Taylor’s packed some for you.”

I leap out of bed, excited to take Ana sailing, and she watches me pull on my underwear.

“Up,” I nag, and she grins.

“Just admiring the view,” she says.

“Dry your hair,” I tell her.

“Domineering as ever,” she observes, and I bend down to kiss her.

“That’s never going to change, baby. I don’t want you sick.”

She rolls her eyes.

“My palms still twitch, you know, Miss Steele.”

“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Grey. I was beginning to think you were losing your edge.”

Oh. Mixed signals from Miss Steele.