I could call Kavanagh. Taylor says she left with him.
Shit. Ethan and Ana.
The idea does not sit well with me.
I don’t have his number. I contemplate calling Elliot to have him ask Kate for her brother’s number, but it’s after midnight in Barbados. With a frustrated sigh, I stare out at the city skyline. The sun is sinking into the sea off the Olympic Peninsula, reflecting the last of the light into my apartment. It’s ironic that all this week I’ve been looking at this view and wondering where Leila might be. Now I’m wondering about Ana. It’s getting dark. Where is she?
She’s left you, Grey.
No. I’m not willing to believe that.
Mrs. Jones knocks on the door.
“Mr. Grey?”
“Gail.”
“You found her.”
I frown. Ana?
“Miss Williams,” she clarifies.
“In a sense. She’s in the hospital, where she needs to be.”
“Good. Would you like something to eat?”
“No. Thanks. I’ll wait for Ana.”
She studies me for a moment. “I’ve made some mac and cheese. I’ll leave it in the fridge.”
Mac and cheese. My favorite.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“I’m going to retire to my room now.”
“Good night, Gail.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile and leaves.
I check the time: 9:15.
Damn it. Ana. Come home.
Where is she?
Gone.
No.
I dismiss the thought and sit down at my desk and activate my computer. I have a few e-mails, but try as I might, I cannot concentrate. My concern for Ana is growing. Where is she?
She’ll be back soon.
She will.
She has to come back.
I call Welch and leave a message that Leila has been found and is now getting the help she needs. I end the call and get up, unable to stay seated. It’s been one hell of an evening.
Perhaps I should read.
In my bedroom, I pick up the book I’ve been reading and take it back into the living room. And wait. And wait.
Ten minutes later, I throw the book onto the sofa beside me.
I’m restless and the uncertainty about Ana’s whereabouts is becoming unbearable.
I head into Taylor’s office. He’s there with Ryan.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Can you send one of the guys to Ana’s place? I want to check if she’s returned to her apartment.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
I head back to the sofa and pick up my book again. I keep glancing at the elevator. But it remains quiet.
Empty.
Like me.
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