Fifty Shades of Him (h.s. au)

XXI

My feet walk up the stairs to my building after Harry drops me off. I’m tired and his photo shoot is in a few days, his anxiousness high. As I approach my door, it is slightly opened and struggled groans are heard.

“Where is she?” someone asks, my hands pushing the door open slightly.

“I told you, she’s not here! She’s never here!” Miles yells, a girl crying in the room with him.

“Don’t make me ask again!” the man yells, my eyes seeing Grace and Miles kneeling in the house. I can’t see the man.

“She’s not here,” Grace says, my feet running into the room as soon as I see a gun. Hitting it out of the direction it was facing, shots are fired at the window and wall. It runs out of ammo and I look up, Ian staring down at me.

“My Reagan. My girl,” he soothes, running his hand down my cheek.

“No, no. I’m not your girl,” I say, grabbing his wrist and setting his hand at his side.

Police sirens are heard but Ian doesn’t flinch, only looking at me. He’s disgusting; his scuff is all sweaty and his eyes bloodshot. He needs to stay in control or he’ll hurt someone.

“Reagan, come home with me baby. I need you,” he slurs, my head shaking. His hands come to my waist and I push them off, Ian grabbing my cheeks.

“I will always have you. You are mine,” he says, police pulling him off me. My body is taken in someone’s arms, Ian’s words scaring me to no end. I can’t move, my mind somewhere else.

“Take a deep breath. Look at me beautiful,” someone says, taking my cheeks in his hands.

My eyes frantically look around the room before I meet bright green orbs, full of concern. His head leans down and he focuses on me, my breathing returning to normal.

“He’s gone. He won’t be back,” Harry tells me, his words muffled by the commotion going on in the room. Police are inspecting the apartment; Miles and Grace are being questioned. Why was he here?

“Reagan, look at me,” Harry pleads, my eyes closing and looking everywhere.

“We need to take her for questioning,” another voice says, my eyes darting to the window, glass still falling to the ground.

“Look at her. She’s unstable.”

“Sir, we need to take her to the station,” the voices continue to battle and I fall to the floor, cupping my ears. The tears fall for all that haunts me is Ian and his words. Just once, I wish I could live in a world without danger. My whole past was dangerous and now, I can barely hold on anymore.

“Miss Albright,” my nurse asks, my head turning to look at her.

“Are you alright to eat?” she asks, my head nodding. I stand and we walk together to the cafeteria, the police believing this place was a good place for me right now. They put me in a therapeutic living building, in case I need to talk about my problems. I hold faint memories from that night, the three days being here horrible. They won’t allow me to use the phone.

“Please have a seat. The doctor wants to speak to you,” she smiles, my head nodding.

As I pick up a fork, I pick at the salad in front of me and the doctor sits in front of me.

“Reagan, how are you today?” he asks, my head nodding.

I don’t like talking here. It’s uncomfortable.

“We have news for you. Since you show no signs of any disorder or illness, we feel as though you can leave. You need to be in an environment with a person who will take care of you. There is one person, named Grace, whom we will allow you to leave with.”