Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Do they own the present hotel?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “This can’t be the original structure. Wasn’t it destroyed during World War II?”

  “From what I understand, the hotel has been built and rebuilt at least three times. Frank Lloyd Wright had a hand in one of the resurrections.”

  “Is that right? I’ll have to get a brochure from the hotel when we get back.”

  “Or you can just ask me,” Cole teased. “You know I have a photographic memory and learned everything I could about this place before getting on the plane.”

  I rolled my eyes at his cocky statement. Cole was a walking encyclopedia when it came to most things that interested him. In the past, I’d often felt intimidated by his book smarts, but thanks to Trent, I had realized that street-smarts were just as important, and I had those in spades.

  “This park is very soothing,” I mentioned, pulling Cole toward one of the stone benches close to a pond. “I can understand why they’ve never replaced this prime piece of land with modern buildings.”

  “That’ll never happen,” Cole said. “The Japanese have always had a spiritual connection to their land and believe that ancient spirits are one with nature. Tearing down an existing park would be like desecrating a temple.”

  “You know I’ve never paid much attention to religion, but I can honestly say that it’s easier to believe in a higher power when you’re surrounded by this kind of beauty.”

  “I’m pleased to hear you say that. A few years ago, you wouldn’t have given this park a second glance.”

  “That was then, and this is now.”

  “You’ve changed a lot since we first met,” Cole said.

  “We both have,” I pointed out.

  “Unfortunately, my growth spurts haven’t been that beneficial.”

  “Come on, Cole, you’ve had more than your fair share of challenges. If we had to do it all over again, I’m sure we would have made better choices.”

  “It’s kind of you to include yourself.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I landed on your doorstep with enough baggage to choke a horse and not enough sense to work things out on my own.”

  “True, but my issues were just as bad. It’s a wonder you didn’t walk away after the first time we hooked up.” He shook his head. “Slapping you was a shitty way of reacting to an amazing blowjob. I was such a closet case.”

  Before I could respond to his honest assessment, Freddie started to fidget, and I realized he needed to go. “I’d better walk him. Do you want to sit here and wait?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “No worries. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  I gave Freddie a hand signal, and he sprinted forward so quickly I almost lost my footing. He was obviously in need of relief, and I felt guilty for yakking with Cole instead of attending to him first. He dashed headlong toward a grouping of shrubs, but instead of lifting his leg, he darted into a clump of ferns and disappeared.

  What happened next was so bizarre I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been present. There were sounds of a struggle coming from within the bushes followed by a loud yelp. I couldn’t see who or what Freddie was messing with, but I reached in to pull the dog toward me and got shoved in the chest by a Nike-clad foot. I landed on my ass, too surprised to do anything but stare at the dude in black who was doing his best to wrestle Freddie off him.

  He was a twin of the guy in Chicago, only this goon wore short sleeves so his tattoos were clearly visible. They spilled down both his arms. Freddie was snarling and snapping wildly as the guy flailed out in alarm. I immediately noticed a few missing digits, and I was pretty sure our stalker was about to lose a few more if Freddie was successful in sinking his canines into the soft flesh. I didn’t know which was more shocking: the dog’s aggression or the fact that we were being attacked in a public place in broad daylight.

  I lunged at Freddie as soon as our assailant drew a nasty-looking knife from his waistband and began waving it back and forth. Pinned to the ground by my body, Freddie stopped struggling, and I rolled off to the side, still hanging on to the furry mass. By then, our attacker was long gone. Freddie heaved with the effort to escape my tight grip and slobbered like he’d just been given a steak. Christ almighty. What in the hell was going on with this animal? Since when had he turned into a ninja dog?

  As I petted him over and over, Freddie’s breathing slowed, and he began to calm down enough for me to get up and lead him back to where Cole was waiting. Should I even mention what just happened? It would set off alarms, and Cole would turn into a nervous Nellie, making my life miserable by second-guessing every move. I decided to say nothing for now.

  “All done?” Cole asked, sensing our presence before I said a word.

  “We’re good. Let’s head back and have some dinner. I’m tired, hungry, and I need a bath.”

  Cole stood and groped for my arm. “We can eat at the hotel,” he said as we began walking. “They have thirteen restaurants we can choose from.”

  “What about Freddie?”

  “A bowl of water will tide him over until we go back upstairs. There’s a suitcase full of his stuff, and I’d rather he not eat any foreign food if we can avoid it.”

  I ruffled the dog’s head and hoped to hell we wouldn’t run into our stalker; I knew Freddie would lose his shit for sure. “Maybe we can have them send someone up to the room and bring down a can of his food. I’d feel guilty eating while he’s watching.”

  Cole raised both eyebrows. “I’m sure he can wait, but I’ll ask the concierge if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. My brain was still trying to process what just happened, and keeping occupied with Freddie’s immediate needs was a good way to avoid pondering what lay ahead.

  The concierge was very helpful after hearing Cole’s request and sent someone upstairs to retrieve the dog food. Meanwhile, we headed toward the tempura bar. I was ravenous and wanted to eat something I could identify. During the time Cole and I had been together, I’d acquired a taste for Japanese food. I was looking forward to enjoying the deep-fried seafood and vegetables soaked in a light batter and dipped in radish-infused soy sauce. The chef behind the bar bowed and greeted us in English, then switched to Nihongo after Cole requested the menu in halting Japanese. We agreed to try everything, except for the eel, which held no appeal whatsoever.

  While we sat and waited for the first round to fry up, I sipped at the small cup of sake Cole had recommended, and it burned its way down my throat, soothing my frayed nerves. Tension evaporated like magic, and I asked for another cup before Cole had finished his first one.

  “Better go easy on that stuff,” Cole admonished. “It’s more lethal than you realize.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said.

  The room boy appeared with a beautiful glazed bowl filled with Freddie’s kibble mixed with his wet food. Even that unsavory meal looked appetizing when plated so perfectly. He laid it at the dog’s feet and actually bowed. So fucking polite, I thought to myself in amazement. Freddie dove in, manners notwithstanding.

  I was slightly loopy by the time I had my first taste of shrimp, but the alcoholic haze quickly dissipated with every piece of tempura I shoved down my throat. It was beyond wonderful, and I enjoyed every second. There was nothing in New York that could compare.

  “This is great,” I rhapsodized, looking at the chef and nodding repeatedly. “Best I’ve ever had.”

  Cole mumbled something in Japanese, and the chef laughed and said something back. Whirling on him, I demanded to know what he’d said.

  “Only that you haven’t had a decent meal in three years.”

  “Shut up,” I shot back. “Trent and I have had some great dinners.”

  “At a restaurant,” Cole said. “I’m talking home-cooked.”

  “Don’t start comparing apples and oranges, ’cause you’ll lose.”

  “Is that right?�
� He didn’t look convinced, though. I think deep in his heart Cole still felt he knew me better than Trent ever could.

  “It’s debatable, Cole, but I’m too tired to argue right now. Eat your food and stuff the comments.”

  Chapter 10

  I FELT like an overfed snake by the time we took the elevator up to our rooms. My stomach bulged with at least two pounds of tempura and God only knows how many bowls of rice. Either I was hungrier than I thought, or the opportunity to eat Japanese food after a steady diet of American was hard to resist. Cole had introduced me to the visually appealing and tastily complex world of Japanese cuisine when we lived together. I’d grown to love it, and I learned how to cook most of the everyday dishes we enjoyed. After our breakup and my subsequent shift to a life with my all-American Trent, I’d discarded the exotic and reverted back to recipes I’d learned at my mother’s side, such as steaks and casseroles. Trent was definitely a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy and had asked me in a voice that brooked no argument to nix the Asian food.

  Binging and purging had never been my thing, although I’d seen it enough in the fashion industry. Models routinely stuck their fingers down their throats whenever they’d overindulged, and tonight, I was uncomfortable enough to consider the idea. Gluttony had never been one of my demons; in fact, a general lack of interest in nutrition had been synonymous with my name. Both Cole and Trent had made it their mission to fatten me up, knowing I could subsist on coffee and cigarettes if not for their maniacal interest in my caloric intake.

  As such, Cole was delighted that I’d enjoyed the tempura dinner and scoffed when I whined about gaining weight if I kept up this level of excess. To his mind’s eye, my body hadn’t changed since he’d last seen it before he’d gone completely blind. I’d never wish Cole’s genetic disease on anyone, but it was rather liberating to be with someone whose last view of my face and body was permanently fixed in my early twenties. I’d be forever young to Cole, even when my jowls sagged and my belly hung over my belt. His only concern was how I smelled and responded to his touch. He couldn’t give a fig whether my hair was styled or how my pants fit. When it came right down to it, naked flesh felt good, muffin tops notwithstanding.

  On the flip side, there were definite disadvantages to being around Cole, including his heightened awareness of my every nuance. It hadn’t escaped him that I’d reached for the sake way too often. Every time I thought about the lethal blade that goon was brandishing, I poured another cup of the deadly brew. It was no wonder I swayed on my spindly legs and missed the slot when I tried to swipe my keycard. Cole had to take it out of my hands and do it himself, pushing me into the room gently once he got the door open. It was humiliating, but also an object lesson that being blind did not mean being useless. I’d forgotten how self-sufficient Cole could be, and it came as no surprise when he rounded on me to ask why I was so spooked. Lying wasn’t an option, so I told him what had happened at the park. He flushed in anger and resentment simmered off him in waves.

  “How dare you try to keep this from me?”

  “What good would it have done?”

  “I know I may seem helpless to you, but I have taken courses in self-defense, and furthermore, I refuse to be kept in the dark, no pun intended. Stop trying to protect me! This is my mess, and I should know what’s going on every step of the way.”

  “Because you’re a control freak, not because you can actually do anything.”

  “That’s low, Sloan. Even coming from you.”

  “You know I have no filters, and I’m speaking from my heart. There was nothing you could have done this afternoon, and you may have ended up hurt. I’m glad you were out of the way.”

  He didn’t comment but got down on his haunches to inspect Freddie from head to tail.

  “He’s fine, Cole. I’ve checked him over thoroughly.”

  “I can’t feel any scratches or bumps underneath his heavy coat.”

  “Like I said, my inspection didn’t reveal anything. What I don’t understand is when did this dog turn into such an alpha? Golden retrievers are a gentle breed, and aggression is virtually unheard of. They’re people dogs as well as being intelligent. That’s why they rank high on the list for service dogs. In all the years we’ve known him, can you remember Freddie acting so out of character?”

  “No, I can’t, but we’ve never been in this kind of situation before.”

  “I realize that, but still, it’s strange to watch him turn into an attack dog. His intrinsic need to guard you has given him skills we didn’t know he had.”

  “He’s also protecting you, Sloan. Freddie loves you just as much as, if not more than, me. You’ve been his caregiver for years.”

  “And he’s been the one constant in our relationship—the only one who loved me unconditionally.”

  “That’s harsh, isn’t it? I loved you.”

  “Not enough, Cole. Not nearly enough.” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to pull them back. Where in the hell did they come from? I thought my resentment was buried, done, and forgotten, but here it was back in full bloom.

  “You’re still angry at me.”

  “Please take it with a grain of salt; I’m drunk.”

  “Saying I’m sorry again seems so inadequate.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “I think it is. For whatever it’s worth, I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. I hope that someday you’ll find it in your heart to move past the betrayal and remember the good times we shared. We had something amazing, Sloan, and I fucking blew it.”

  “We both had issues that collided in the worst way, a perfect storm of emotions.”

  “If I could do it all over again, I would have told you my father was dying as soon as I was informed. We could have discussed the ramifications of a surrogate in greater detail, and none of this—the fake marriage, our breakup, my suicide attempt, this kidnapping—would have ever happened.”

  “We don’t know that for a fact, and it’s pointless to torture yourself over the past. On the plus side, I never would have met Trent if you hadn’t made such poor choices.”

  Cole frowned upon hearing Trent’s name. Although my current and past lovers had arrived at a tentative truce and were civil in each other’s company, there would always be a rivalry, an instinctive dislike that time couldn’t erase. It was the same way I felt about Noriko.

  “Why did you agree to help me, Sloan? You must have had second thoughts about coming to my aid after everything that’s happened.”

  “What can I say, Cole? I’ve always been a sap when it comes to you; however, that doesn’t mean I think we’re doing the right thing. We’re out of our element. Now, more than ever, I wish Trent had been included in this fucking exchange. He’d know how to handle a criminal mind, way more than you or I.”

  “We can and will manage without him. You’d better not be thinking of calling him.”

  “Even if I did, there’s no turning back. He’s committed to his Army buddy for six weeks.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Nonetheless, we need help from an outside source. Someone local who knows how to deal with the Yakuza.”

  “Like who?”

  “Remember the private investigator I hired long ago to look into Noriko’s background?”

  “You mentioned him once during one of our more memorable arguments.”

  “His name is Adachi something, Mitsi or Mitsu. I forget, but he was very thorough and might be able to give us some insight on what’s happening behind the scenes. I’m pretty sure there’s more going on than we know.”

  “How will you find him if you can’t remember his damn name?”

  “He’s probably still in my contacts,” I said, reaching for my phone. I scrolled through all the As, and when he didn’t show up, I went through my entire list, and it was fucking long. I could feel Cole’s impatience, but he didn’t try to walk away or speed up the process. I finally found Adachi in the Ps under Private Investigator. “Got it,” I
said triumphantly. “Can I e-mail him?”

  “Do you think it’s wise?”

  “Hell, yes. At least we’d be tethered to someone who represents the law if something were to go wrong. Right now, no one in America knows what’s happening. Neither Trent nor Max knows I’m here, and if we were in any danger, there’d be no way for them to rescue us. Don’t you see my point?”

  “All right. Call him and see what he has to say.”

  “I’ll have to tell him the truth.”

  “How do we know he’s trustworthy?”

  “We don’t, but he didn’t steer me wrong when I first hired him, nor did he drag out the investigation. He could have stretched it out to make more money, but he was professional and did his job quickly and efficiently.”

  Cole ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. “God, I wish we were back home and my boys were fast asleep in their cribs.”

  His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, and I reached for him automatically. Regardless of what lay between us, we were in this misguided adventure as a team. I could tell he was just as frightened and uncertain as me, but was too proud to admit it, his biggest flaw. The constant need to keep proving he was as good, if not better, than a sighted man must have been exhausting.

  He sagged against me and relaxed in my arms as I murmured in his ear. “Hang on, Cole. We’ll get through this, and when Keni and Niki are older and turn into bratty teenagers, I’ll remind them of all the hoops you had to jump through to give them life.”

  “I don’t want them to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “How would you feel if your parents informed you that you wouldn’t exist without the help of science? That you were created in a petri dish and not through a loving act.”

  “We’re gay men, Cole. There aren’t many options for baby-making in our world.”

  “Don’t be condescending,” he snapped. “Some gay men have family members or good friends who are willing to surrogate for them. If I could present a more loving scenario, then they’d know they were created by people who loved them.”