Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,261

working-class couple, and their three scrawny, unremarkable children—plus Jackson Hyde as an eight-year-old, and…me. I’m four years old, a small scrap of humanity, with wild, haunted eyes and threadbare clothes, clutching a filthy blanket. It’s obvious that the four-year-old is severely malnourished—no wonder I’m always nagging Ana to eat.

“This is you,” Ana gasps, and stifles a sob.

“That’s me.” My voice is bleak; right now, I’ve no words of comfort left for her.

I’ve got nothing. I’m numb.

I stare out at the dusk. The sky is streaked in pale pink and orange that heralds the coming darkness. A darkness that claims me as one of its own.

A husk of a man once more. Hollowed and empty.

I’m missing time. Missing a part of myself that I didn’t even know existed.

And I don’t understand why.

I’m scared to know why.

What happened to me back then? How could I have forgotten it all?

I cling to the residual anger that simmers beneath the surface. It’s aimed at Carrick and Grace.

Why the fuck didn’t they tell me?

I close my eyes. I don’t want the darkness. I’ve lived in it too long.

I want the light that Ana brings.

“Welch brought these photos?” she asks.

“Yes. I don’t remember any of this.”

“Remember being with foster parents? Why should you? Christian, it was a long time ago. Is this what’s worrying you?”

“I remember other things, from before and after. When I met my mom and dad. But this… It’s like there’s a huge chasm.”

“Is Jack in this picture?”

“Yes, he’s the older kid.”

Ana’s silent for a moment, and I hug her harder.

“When Jack called to tell me he had Mia,” she murmurs, “he said if things had been different, it could have been him.”

Revulsion shudders through me. “That fucker!”

“You think he did all this because the Greys adopted you instead of him?”

“Who knows? I don’t give a fuck about him.”

“Perhaps he knew we were seeing each other when I went for that job interview. Perhaps he planned to seduce me all along.” Ana’s dread echoes in her voice.

“I don’t think so. The searches he did on my family didn’t start until a week or so after you began your job at SIP. Barney knows the exact dates. And, Ana, he fucked all his assistants and taped them.”

Ana’s quiet, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

About Hyde? About me?

I could have ended up like Hyde if I hadn’t been adopted.

Is she comparing me to him?

Fuck. I am like Hyde. A monster. Is that what she sees?

That we’re the same?

What a repulsive thought.

“Christian, I think you should talk to your mom and dad.” She squirms, and I release her legs, but she shuffles down into the bed so we’re facing each other.

“Let me call them,” she offers in a tender whisper. I shake my head. “Please,” she pleads. Her expression is as compassionate and sincere as ever. Her eyes brimming with love.

Perhaps she’s not comparing me to Hyde.

Should I call my parents? Maybe they can offer the missing pieces on these fragments of my past. They’re bound to remember, surely.

“I’ll call them,” I murmur.

“Good. We can go see them together, or you can go. Whichever you prefer.”

“No. They can come here.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“Christian, I’m up for a car journey.”

“No.” I give her a lopsided smile. “Anyway, it’s Saturday night; they’re probably at some function.”

“Call them. This news has obviously upset you. They might be able to shed some light.” Ana’s words are stirring. As I gaze into her eyes, there’s no judgment there, only her love shining through the cracks into my darkness.

“Okay.” I’ll play it her way. I pick up the bedside phone and call my parents’ home. Ana snuggles up to me while I wait for an answer.

“Christian.” Carrick’s voice has never been more welcome.

They’re home! “Dad!” I can’t hide my surprise.

“Great to hear from you, son. How’s Ana?”

“Ana’s good. We’re home. Welch has just left. He found out the connection.”

“Connection? With what? With who? Hyde?”

“The foster home in Detroit.”

Carrick is silent on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t remember any of that.” My voice wavers as my shame and simmering anger surface, a poisonous cocktail. Ana hugs me tighter.

“Christian. Why should you? It was long ago. But your mother and I can fill in the gaps, I’m sure.”

“Yeah?” I hate the hope in my voice.

“We’ll come over. Now, if you like?”

“You will?” I can scarcely believe it.

“Of course. I’ll bring some paperwork from that time with me. We’ll be there soon. It will be good to see Ana, too.”

Paperwork?

“Great.” I