50 Shades of Drake 3 and 4

Chapter Eighty-Nine

    Hospital paperwork was the thing of nightmares. It went on for forever, and even if the paperwork was asking details about yourself, unless you had a photographic memory and remembered everything, there were details that were difficult to think of. Hard to come up with my health insurance information without my fucking wallet, he thought while scratching the pen onto the fourth sheet of paper he'd had to fill out.

    Darius stood at his back, looking from side to side. It was strangely comforting, having the federal agent look out for him. It took Aubrey back to the days when his longtime friends Chubbs and Tank were a part of his security detail. Even though he still called on them from time to time, their lives were different. They were now spending time with their own families. Just as his life had drastically changed, so had theirs. His days as an entertainer...there were a lot of events that had caused him to leave the music industry, but he definitely had a lot of good memories from those days.

    "I'm sorry I'm taking so long," Aubrey mumbled, standing at the nurse's station for the floor his room had been on. At Darius's request, he kept his head lowered while filling out the paperwork, to help prevent anyone from recognizing him. He had come close to asking for Darius to hunt down a razor so he could attempt to attack the overgrown beard on his face, but figured that the beard would most likely help to conceal his identity.

    "Take your time," Darius said in a tone that contradicted his statement.

    When Aubrey was finally finished, the dark-haired nurse accepted the forms from him and looked them over. He continued to keep his head bowed while waiting for her approval.

    "For your home phone number, this looks like an office phone number?" The nurse asked him. "It ends in 0's? I just want to make sure you really meant to put that number down."

    "My cell phone is...out of service at the moment," Aubrey told her, choosing his words carefully. "I'll have a new number soon. I can call in with the new number once I have it."

    "The number here is a good one for you?" she asked him, pushing a pair of black-framed prescription glasses up her nose.

    He nodded. "Yeah."

    "Okay, then you're good to go," she told him.

    He turned away from the desk. "I don't remember where the elevator is from here," he muttered.

    "I'll lead the way," Darius told him.

    Aubrey followed him, sticking his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as they walked. One step closer to getting back to Toronto. One step closer to getting back to Destiny. All I have to do is work with the FBI for a few days, maybe a week hopefully. Hopefully not too long.

    Darius stopped in front of the elevator control panel and pressed the Down button.

    Aubrey raised a hand to stroke his chin and was still surprised at just how thick his beard had gotten. He stood in front of the closed elevator doors, then remembered that he needed to keep his head lowered. He bowed his head down and clasped his hands together in front of him while waiting for the elevator car to arise.

    Darius's phone rang, and he whipped it out to answer it. "Yeah. At the elevator now. Two minutes."

    The elevator doors opened, and immediately Aubrey heard a young woman's voice say, "This has to be the floor. She said it was the floor where they kept V.I.P. patients." The woman stepped off of the elevator and her shoes came into view. She gasped. "Oh my God."

    That beautiful voice. Those shoes...Sergio Rossi...I purchased them for her when I first brought her to Toronto. He was afraid to look up, afraid to lift his eyes. For some reason, he felt like when he did, he would see someone else. Maybe it was all those dreams he'd had; he didn't know what was real anymore.

    "Aubrey?" the young woman asked.

    He kept his eyes trained on the floor. His eyes were quickly filling with tears, as he remembered the family he'd dreamed up. Three beautiful children and a gorgeous wife, who was loving, sweet, and attentive. The hem of a peach-colored dressed fluttered over the tops of her shoes, hiding them from view.

    "Mr. Graham? Do you recognize her?"

    You have to look up, Aubrey. You have to look up. Each second was a pregnant pause. Everything was moving in slow motion as he slowly lifted his gaze. A peach sundress, another article of clothing he'd bought her. Slender, golden-brown arms. His heart clenched, noticing small details that confirmed the woman in front of him was exactly who he thought she was. By the time his eyes landed on her face, his heart felt like it was close to the point of bursting.

    "All of a sudden, I feel like tasting something sweet...sweet...sweet..."

    "Why did you want me to sit with you?

    "Because you fascinate me."

    "I fascinate you?"

    "...Stop being bossy."

    "What if it's in my nature?"

    "Then I guess I'm going to have to learn to live with it."

    "So...instead of seeking out a real relationship, real love, you...enter into arrangements with women that are strictly sexual. That doesn't get old after awhile? You have no interest in finding love...love...love...? Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a frightened, scared little boy when I look at you. A little boy who is so fucking scared, he's willing to make me believe he is a monster. Because he'd rather me believe he's a monster than believe he's in love with me."

    "You're so perfect that it scares me sometimes."

    "That's how I feel about you."

    "I'm not perfect. Far from it. Perfect would be a man who is ready to run off with you, get married, have children, and the dog, and the pretty house with the white picket fence."

    "You at your worst is still better than any other man at his best."

    "There have been times when you didn't call me Sir, as you should have. Times when you have spoken out of turn. Times when I should have punished you. I didn't punish you, because that's who you are. Strong-willed. Opinionated. Wild. Passionate. You're all of those things, which don't quite gel with the traits of a submissive. And I don't say that to make you feel bad. I'm saying that those characteristics make up who you are, and you are still perfect to me...After tonight, I realized that you're not just perfect. You're everything to me. Do you understand...do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

    "I love you, too."

    "I love you, Destiny...Destiny...Destiny..."

    Memories overlapping as he stared through a veil of tears.

    She stared back at him with tears streaming down her face.

    Brian stood just off to the side, holding the elevator door open, but Aubrey barely even realized it as he slowly stepped forward.

    "Aubrey-" Destiny started.

    He held up a finger. "Shh." He closed his eyes, relishing the way her voice had sounded as she spoke his name. How long had it been since he last heard that? Only a few days, but how long had it been since he'd heard her speak his name in real life, not in some warped fantasy that was set years in the future? It felt like it had been ages. He took another step forward with emotion burning in his eyes. Then in one swift move, he grabbed her and swept her up into his arms, crushing her against him. He pushed her back into the elevator and pinned her against the wall. Then he lowered his head, kissed her, and stole her very breath away from her.