Chapter 32 (1/2)
”That's me, ma'am,” Sawyer says, startling me, though he's speaking in the calm, monotone voice he always uses. ”The unsub is heading down Stewart, sir. He's really picking up speed.”
”Go, Ana. Less of the f**king chitchat,” Christian growls.
”We're stopped at the first light on Stewart.” Sawyer informs us.
”Ana - quick - in here,” Christian shouts, pointing to a parking lot on the south side of Boren Avenue. I turn, the tires screeching in protest as I swerve into the crowded lot.
”Drive around. Quick,” Christian orders. I drive as fast as I can to the back, out of sight of the street. ”In there.” Christian points to a space. Shit! He wants me to park it. Crap!
”Just f**king do it,” he says. So I do . . . perfectly. Probably the only time I have ever parked perfectly.
”We're hidden in the parking lot between Stewart and Boren,”
Christian says into the BlackBerry.
”Okay, sir.” Sawyer sounds irritated. ”Stay where you are; we'll follow the unsub.”
Christian turns to me, his eyes searching my face. ”You okay?”
”Sure,” I whisper.
Christian smirks. ”Whoever's driving that Dodge can't hear us, you know.”
And I laugh.
”We're passing Stewart and Boren now, sir. I see the lot. He's gone straight past you, sir.”
Both of us sag simultaneously with relief.
”Well done, Mrs. Grey. Good driving.” Christian gently strokes my face with his fingertips, and I jump at the contact, inhaling deeply. I had no idea I was holding my breath.
”Does this mean you'll stop complaining about my driving?” I ask. He laughs - a loud cathartic laugh.
”I wouldn't go so far as to say that.”
”Thank you for letting me drive your car. Under such exciting circumstances, too.” I try desperately to keep my voice light.
”Maybe I should drive now.”
”To be honest, I don't think I can climb out right now to let you sit here. My legs feel like Jell-O.” Suddenly I'm shuddering and shaking.
”It's the adrenaline, baby,” he says. ”You did amazingly well, as usual. You blow me away, Ana. You never let me down.” He touches my cheek tenderly with the back of his hand, his face full of love, fear, regret - so many emotions at once - and his words are my undoing. Overwhelmed, a strangled sob escapes from my constricted throat, and I start to cry.
”No, baby, no. Please don't cry.” He reaches over and, in spite of the limited space we have, pulls me over the handbrake console to cradle me in his lap. Smoothing my hair off my face, he kisses my eyes, then my cheeks, and I curl my arms around him and sob quietly into his neck. He buries his nose in my hair and wraps me in his arms, holding me tight and we sit, neither of us saying anything, just holding each other.
Sawyer's voice startles us. ”The unsub has slowed outside Escala. He's casing the joint.”