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.
Empty except for my growing unease.
She’s gone.
She’s left you.
Leila frightened her off.
No. I can’t believe that. It’s not her style.
It’s me. She’s had enough.
Having said she’d move in, she’s now reneged.
Fuck.
I get up and begin pacing. My phone buzzes. It’s Taylor. Not Ana. I quash my disappointment and take the call. “Taylor.”
“The apartment’s empty, sir. No one here.”
There’s a ping. The elevator. I turn and Ana walks a little unsteadily into the living room.
“She’s here,” I snap at Taylor and hang up. Relief. Anger. Hurt. All combine in a rush of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. “Where the fuck have you been?” I bark at her. She blinks and steps back. She’s flushed.
“Have you been drinking?” I ask.
“A bit.”
“I told you to come back here. It’s now fifteen after ten. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I went for a drink or three with Ethan while you attended to your ex.” She spits out the last word like venom.
Hell. She’s mad.
She continues. “I didn’t know how long you were going to be with her.” She lifts up her chin with a look of righteous indignation.
What?
“Why do you say it like that?” I ask, confused by her response. Did she think I wanted to be with Leila?
Ana looks down and stares at the floor, avoiding eye contact.
She hasn’t come completely into the room.
What’s going on?
My anger subsides as anxiety ripples through my chest.
“Ana, what’s wrong?”
“Where’s Leila?” She looks around the room, her expression chilly.
“In a psychiatric hospital in Fremont.” Where the hell does she expect Leila to be? “Ana, what is it?” I take a couple of cautious steps toward her, but she stands her ground, distant and aloof, and doesn’t reach for me.
“What’s wrong?” I press her.
She shakes her head. “I’m no good for you,” she says.
My scalp tingles, pricked by fear. “What? Why do you think that? How can you possibly think that?”
“I can’t be everything you need.”
“You are everything I need.”
“Just seeing you with her—”
Christ. “Why do you do this to me? This is not about you, Ana. It’s about her. Right now, she’s a very sick girl.”
“But I felt it. What you had together.”
“What? No.” I reach for her and she steps back, away from me, her cool eyes on mine, assessing me, and I don’t think she likes what she sees…
“You’re running?”
My anxiety rises, tightening my throat.
She looks away and her brow furrows, but she says nothing.
“You can’t,” I whisper.
“Christian, I—” She stops and I think she’s struggling to say her good-byes. She’s going. I knew it would happen. But so soon?
“No. No!” I’m on the edge of the abyss once more.