“Yeah, I’d like that, too. I’ve been thinking about that because she’s a pretty amazing woman.”
I smile, also eager to get home asap.
“Yeah, I agree. So let’s talk to her tonight, when we get back.”
“Do we tell her everything though?” he asks. “She might not take kindly to it. After all, we haven’t exactly been upfront.”
I ponder his question carefully before I answer.
“If we really want to move past the whole ‘we bought you from Jensen’ saga, I think we have to tell her everything.”
“Okay,” Gabriel agrees slowly, his blue gaze a bit shuttered. “Makes sense.”
I shrug.
“It’s only fair that we’re forthcoming, especially now. I want her to know the facts and decide to stay, and not just because we spoil her or because she thinks she’s obligated to.”
“Yeah,” Gabriel agrees. “So we lay out the facts, and then we tell her how we feel.”
“Good plan?”
“Great,” he nods.
For the rest of the long car ride back to Long Island, I let my mind think about how I feel about Michelle. I’ve never been an emotional guy, but there’s something about admitting my love for Michelle that feels right. The curvy girl belongs in our life, and now after a year of painful divorce proceedings, we can make this whole thing legit.
Eventually, we arrive at our Long Island manor. The mansion is gorgeous, the way it always is, and my heart leaps because of the woman who awaits us inside. Gabriel and I climb out of the car, practically bouncing to the front door. But then we stop.
“Should we wait to talk to Michelle in the morning?” I ask him, concerned that she’s tired.
Gabriel fishes his key out of his suit pocket. “Yeah, because she might not be awake. Let’s at least check on her, and apologize for being jerks for not texting her all day.”
“I wonder why she didn’t text us though,” I observe, frowning at the realization. “That’s weird. She usually reaches out if we don’t.”
Gabriel shrugs and then grins wickedly. “I told you she’d be pissed that we were MIA.”
I shake my head at my brother and follow him inside. It’s quiet inside, with the soft glow of the front hall entrance casting shadows everywhere. Suddenly, a figures emerges at our right.
“Sir,” Hendricks, my butler, speaks, his face twisted in concern.
“Hendricks,” I greet the older man happily but grow worried upon seeing his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Sir, I’m not sure how to tell you this exactly…” He looks from me to Gabriel, his old eyes looking even more weary than usual.
“What is it?” I feel my heart start to pound loudly in my chest. Next to me, Gabriel also looks tense.
“It’s Miss Sutton, sir. She’s… gone.”
I stare at the old butler, trying to process what he’s just said.
“Gone?” I repeat.
“Yes, sir. Since midday we believe. And I would have called but you did insist that you not be disturbed today, given the, well, delicacy of the matters at hand.”
Without another word, Gabriel and I share a look and then bolt upstairs to Michelle’s room, not wanting to believe the old butler.
Dark, I note as I barge into her bedroom, flicking on a lamp as I do. Quickly I cross to the bed, hoping to find Michelle snuggled beneath the covers against the chilly air-conditioner.
But the bed is still made, and it’s obvious it hasn’t been touched. Gabriel runs to the bathroom while I head to the closet.
There are heaps of Michelle’s new clothes piled on the ground, as if she’d been organizing her closet and stopped mid-project. My eyes sweep across the large space, looking for any sign for why or when Michelle might have left.
My gaze rests on the empty spot in the corner, where her old duffel bag used to sit. It’s missing, I realize, my anxiety rising. Normally, I wouldn’t notice something like a humble duffel bag. But Gabe and I used to tease Michelle endlessly about it. We begged her to let us buy her fancy, monogrammed luggage, but she always resisted.
“It’s a piece of my past,” she smiled with a wink. “I never want to forget where I come from.” Then she had tucked the satchel neatly in the corner, and the discussion was done.
“Gabriel – ” I call out to my brother as I head back into the main part of the bedroom. “Is anything missing in the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” he says as he joins me in the closet. “Toothbrush, face wash. But that’s it, as far as I can tell.”
I grimace, suddenly realizing that Michelle hasn’t been kidnapped, but that, for some reason, she’s run away.
Gabriel and I walk back out into the main bedroom, pondering our options.
“She left,” I say in a short voice. Even to me, my voice sounds strangled and terse in the still night. Gabriel stares at me, his face contorted in a mix of anger and disbelief.