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I lift my fist and knock, then listen for her movement, but I hear nothing. Frowning, I reach for the doorknob and attempt to twist it, but it’s locked. I could turn around and walk away, but I decide against it.
This isn’t normal behavior for Allison. We’ve been fucking for months now, and never has this happened. Not even if we fight. In fact, she’s always quick to open the door to yell at me before I fuck her into the mattress when we’re finished arguing.
Though we don’t argue much. And even though we’ve been together for a good time, it wasn’t that serious. At least before shit went down. Then we got serious. We are serious, but maybe that is just me feeling guilty because it was my fault she was kidnapped. Her association with me made her a fucking target.
A sinking feeling lands in my gut, sitting down like a rock at the thought of that kidnapping, and then at the idea that she could have been taken again. I reach into my pocket to take out the key I had made when she was missing the first time. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know I have it, but I don’t give much of a fuck if she does or not.
Slipping the key into the door, I turn it, then push the door open before I step into her apartment. Everything appears to be untouched at first glance. Until I see her phone on the kitchen counter. She never leaves her phone behind.
It’s almost permanently attached to her hand. It is part of who she is. This is not normal, none of it.
As I move farther into the apartment and toward her bedroom, I can tell there are some clothes missing. And then when I walk into her bathroom, her shit is in disarray, but not because someone has riffled through it—because she was in a hurry.
Then it hits me.
She fucking walked out.
She disappeared in plain fucking sight.
I pull out my phone and make a call. “You good?” the voice asks as its greeting.
“No, I’m not,” I grind out. “Can you come to Allison’s place?”
There is a moment of silence, and I know he’s probably thinking of all the different scenarios that could be happening. I should clarify, but I don’t know what the fuck there is to clarify yet. I just need my brothers here.
“I’ll be right there,” Wells snaps before he ends the call.
Then I call Coleman, who has the same reaction, tone of voice, and a quick end to the call. There is no doubt that we’re brothers. I would probably have the same response. Walking around the apartment, I start to mentally catalog every part of her place.
The only things I can tell are missing are her personal items. Her entire toy and lingerie displays look perfectly organized and tidy. Her bed is made, her kitchen is spotless, and when I open the fridge, she’s even taken out things that would spoil.
She fucking walked out, walked away without saying a goddamn word to me or Parker. Because if she had spoken to Parker, I know I would have known she was gone before now. She left her phone so I can’t track her. She left her fucking phone and her car. She is trying to run from me, but I’m not sure she realizes exactly how good I am.
The thought of never seeing her again, of never holding her, of never fucking her makes me nauseous. I was so quick to hold her at arm’s length after getting her back. So quick to not act on my feelings, letting my fucking head and the thought of disappointing my father control me.
I fucked it up.
I unlock my phone again to open up her banking app. I hacked her account a long time ago when I was trying to find her the first time. I needed to know if she was using her bank cards or credit cards for anything.
So, I try that again.
Zero activity as of yesterday.
She knows I can find her. She’s fucking hiding. But she won’t be able to hide forever. She’ll need to get a job. She’ll need to pay her fucking taxes. She’ll leave a fucking paper trail somewhere, and when she does, I’m going to goddamn fucking find her.
When I do, I’m going to drag her ass back here, spank her, then fuck her until she remembers just how I make her feel. After that, I’m marrying her. The way I feel about her, in this moment, I shouldn’t have tried to ignore it before.
I fucked up, but I won’t do it again.
Never again.
There is a light knock on the door, and I turn around to find both of my brothers making their way into the apartment. They are both wearing expressions of confusion on their faces, but when their eyes meet mine, that confusion vanishes and is replaced with knowing expressions.
“Fuck,” Coleman hisses.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wells growls.
I snort. “I’m not fucking kidding either of you. But this is my shit. And I will find her. She wasn’t taken. She ran.”
