Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian novel Chapter 151

I raise my arm and gaze at her, realizing that she doesn’t know. “Ana, I was born in Detroit.”

“I thought you were born here in Seattle.”

No. Reaching behind me, I grab one of the pillows and place it under my head. With my other hand, I continue to run my fingers through her hair. “No. Elliot and I were both adopted in Detroit. We moved here shortly after my adoption. Grace wanted to be on the West Coast, away from the urban sprawl, and she got a job at Northwest Hospital. I have very little memory of that time. Mia was adopted here.”

“So, Jack is from Detroit?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I ran a background check when you went to work for him.”

She gives me a sideways look. “Do you have a manila file on him, too?” She smirks.

I hide my smile. “I think it’s pale blue.”

“What does it say in his file?”

I stroke her cheek. “You really want to know?”

“Is it that bad?”

I shrug. “I’ve known worse.” My sad and sorry start in life springs to mind.

Ana cuddles into me, pulling the red satin sheet over the two of us before laying her cheek on my chest. She looks thoughtful.

“What?” I ask. Something’s on her mind.

“Nothing,” she murmurs.

“No, no. This works both ways, Ana. What is it?”

She glances at me, her eyebrows drawn together. She rests her cheek on my chest once more. “Sometimes I picture you as a child before you came to live with the Greys.”

I tense beneath her. I do not want to talk about this. “I wasn’t talking about me. I don’t want your pity, Anastasia. That part of my life is done. Gone.”

“It’s not pity. It’s sympathy and sorrow, sorrow that anyone could do that to a child.” She stops and swallows, then continues, her voice soft and low. “That part of your life is not done, Christian. How can you say that? You live every day with your past. You told me yourself—fifty shades, remember?”

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Drop it, Ana.

“I know it’s why you feel the need to control me. Keep me safe.”

“And yet you choose to defy me.” I’m bewildered. This is what I find most confusing about her. She knows that I have issues, yet she still challenges me.

“Dr. Flynn said I should give you the benefit of the doubt. I think I do, I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s my way of bringing you into the here and now—away from your past,” she mutters. “I don’t know. I just can’t seem to get a handle on how far you’ll overreact.”

“Fucking Flynn,” I mumble.

“He said I should continue to behave the way I’ve always behaved with you.”

“Did he, now?” I observe wryly.

I have him to blame.