Updated on August 5, 2015
50 Shades Freed – Chapter Five
After the absolute clusterfuck of the last chapter, I hardly know what to expect from this one. There was a power trip over a jet ski, Ana bought Christian a camera to take kinky photos with, and then they went to bed. I honestly don’t know.
Read Chapter Four.
50 Shades Freed
I stir, instinctively reaching for Christian only to feel his absence. Shit!
Calm down, he just got out of bed.
“Hey, don’t panic. Everything’s fine,” he says.
Of course it is. You can be apart, it is possible.
“You’ve been so jumpy these last couple of days,” he murmurs.
Oh, right, this is all about the arson thing. Silly me.
Christian tells Ana that she has been talking in her sleep, and is clearly worried about something. That’s pretty amazing, because sleep talkers don’t usually make any sense. AT ALL.
I realize that today we’re going back to Seattle and my melancholy blossoms.
I thought for a second she was talking about going home to her sad flowers.
I’ve relished being with him 24/7.
Except for those few minutes when he gets out of bed first. Dick.
They get on the jet ski and Christian trusts her to drive!
Nice Côte d’Azur Airport is nestled in the distance, built into the Mediterranean, or so it seems.
The airport looks like … it’s built into … the sea?
I decide we need to take a closer look.
Look at you, making decisions like a real person.
…the thundering roar of a jet overhead suddenly startles me … It’s so loud I panic, swerving and hitting the throttle at the same time, mistaking it for a brake. I’m catapulted off the side of the Jet Ski.
Well done for confirming Christian’s fears.
Screaming, I plunge into the sea … but I surface within a split second, courtesy of my life jacket.
Also, you could swim.
I cannot contain my elation. See, Christian? That’s the worst that can happen on a Jet Ski!
I’m pretty sure it’s not.
They laugh it off and go back to the yacht. And … scene.
We laze in the British Airways first class lounge at Heathrow outside London.
Could you please be more specific about your location?
“I like having you to myself.”
He clasps my hand. “Me, too.”
And the award for Most Redundant Comma goes to…
Scene, again. Now they’re back in Seattle.
“Mrs Grey, I am very pleased to announce that you’ve put on some weight. Not much. You’ve put on some of the weight you lost when you left me.”
Christ, it took her that long to put on weight? Give me an endless supply of salted popcorn and Lucky Charms and I’ll do that in a week.
His eyes melt.
He gives me the patented-Christian-Grey-full-gigawatt smile.
It’s patented? So I can’t use my full gigawatt smile any more?
He retrieves a bottle of chilled champagne from the fridge – our favourite, Bollinger.
Oh, we have a favourite champagne now do we?
A sex scene we don’t see, then they wake up the next morning.
Now here I am, Mrs Christian Grey. How did this all happen so fast?
I was reading it and, I promise, it was SLOOOOW.
“Jet lag?” he asks.
“Is that what this is? I can’t sleep.”
Bloody hell, do you not know what jet lag is?
There’s a page or two of Ana thinking about everything we’ve just read. Then ANOTHER sex scene we don’t see, and now we’re off to brunch at Christian’s parents’ house.
Carrick looks ridiculous in his chef’s hat and Licensed to Grill apron.
Money can’t buy you taste.
“Gia is due to come over to discuss the plans tomorrow evening,” says Christian.
I can’t remember who Gia is and I don’t know what these plans are.
My spirits take a nosedive again. Why does he make these decisions without telling me?
TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT.
Shit, I am up and down today. What’s wrong with me?
Oh no. Oh God no. I bet she’s pregnant. And that would be awful.
I pick at my food. Christian said I was fat yesterday. He was joking!
Oh man, it is. She is pregnant.
“I am going to take you to the boathouse and finally spank you in there if you don’t snap out of this mood,” Christian whispers to me.
Heaven forfend she should feel anything that inconveniences you.
Grace grasps my hands then suddenly folds me in her arms.
“Oh, darling girl! Thank you, thank you,” she whispers.
What have I done?
Gotten pregnant, and apparently everyone else can tell but you can’t.
After brunch Christian gives her the car keys and warns her not to ‘bend it’. I’m serious, he tells her not to BEND the car.
I put my foot down on the gas and we shoot forward.
Don’t get scared by a plane again, or you’re both dead… Actually, please do.
Suddenly, Christian swears and struggles to pull out his BlackBerry.
“I see.” He sighs long and hard and rubs his forehead with his fingers.
Such astute observation.
I’m heading for the on-ramp of the 520.
“I don’t want you to panic,” he says calmly. “But as soon as we’re on the 520 proper, I want you to step on the gas. We’re being followed.”
Naturally, she now panics.
“Keep your eyes on the road, baby.”
Thanks, Christian. I would have forgotten.
I drop a gear and floor it. I weave between two lanes of traffic like a black piece in a game of checkers.
Why a black piece? Don’t checkers pieces jump over other pieces? This metaphor is painful.
The security men in the car behind them keep them updated on the chaser’s progress.
“He’s doing ninety.”
Shit! Faster! I press down on the gas and the car purrs to ninety-five miles per hour.
Well, the car seems to be enjoying itself, at least.
We tear down the left lane, lesser mortals pulling over to let us pass.
Oh, how I hate the materialism of rich people. But anyone who doesn’t drive an R8 is a lesser mortal.
“I don’t want a ticket, Christian. Have you had a speeding ticket driving this?”
“Have you been stopped?”
“Yes. Charm. It all comes down to charm.”
Funny, I thought it all comes down to the FUCKING LAW WHICH APPLIES TO EVERYONE.
“Don’t slow down, Ana. Get us home.”
“He’s taking Stewart. He’s really picking up speed.”
This is actually quite exciting, mainly because Ana’s intrusive thoughts are less frequent.
“Ana – quick – in here,” Christian shouts.
He wants me to park it. Crap!
“Just fucking do it,” he says. So I do … perfectly.
What a pep talk!
They hide in the car park and the chaser drives past. The security men follow him and Ana bursts into tears.
“Your lips are soft when you cry, my beautiful, brave girl,” he whispers.
Oh, I guess that’s badass Ana over then.
Adrenaline turns to lust and streaks through my body.
Man, they’re going to have post-car chase, car park sex. But then, haven’t we all?
“Do car chases turn you on?” he asks.
“You turn me on.”
And also the car chase.
He impales me in one swift move.
The sensation is … I groan loudly.
The sensation is what? The sensation is WHAT? I NEED TO KNOW.
“Be. Quick. We need to do this quick, Ana.”
I scrunch my eyes closed as I come around him.
Hooray, another one. I’m so happy for you.
Security calls: the person chasing them was a female, but no name yet. They drive home and ride up in the lift with a man who’s just moved in, Noah.
“He seemed nice,” I murmur. “I’ve never met any of the neighbours before.”
“I prefer it that way.”
You’d keep her in a cardboard box if you could.
“That’s because you’re a hermit.”
“Hermit. Stuck in your ivory tower.”
Oh yeh, hermits are known for having ivory towers.
“What shall we do?”
It has been not half an hour and they’re at it again.
“Sawyer, I’d like to be debriefed in an hour,” Christian says.
We have an hour!
That’ll be the next chapter, then. Goody.
Read Chapter Six.