Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  I caught myself digging my nails into my jean-clad thighs and shook my hand in annoyance. Dammit, would I ever be rid of this nasty form of pain management? Just when I thought I was permanently cured of my cutting, shit would happen, and I’d catch myself wanting to break skin. It was my knee-jerk reaction to stress, an impulse I’d been struggling with for years.

  I pulled out the keys Cole had given me long ago. The locks had never been changed, and he’d never asked for their return. Babysitting had become part of my weekly routine, and getting in and out of the place without bothering Cole was much easier than waiting for someone to open the door.

  The apartment was pristine and as quiet as a library. The only noise breaking the silence was the sound of Freddie’s nails on the hardwood floor as he came to the door to greet me. He was Cole’s guide dog and had known me from the start of his partnership with his master.

  Sticking his head into his favorite spot in between my legs, he wagged his tail happily as I rubbed behind his ears. “What’s going on with Daddy, boy? Will ya take me to him?”

  He woofed and then spun around, leading me to Cole’s bedroom. The lights were off, but that was normal around here. Blind people never bothered turning them on. It had been a bone of contention when we lived together, as I was constantly bashing into furniture when he’d forget I needed to see. This time I didn’t bother to switch on the lamps, letting the overhead from the hallway spill into his room. He was lying on the bed, fully clothed and intact. I didn’t see any blood or knives and heaved a sigh of relief. Perching on one side of him, I grabbed his hand and gently squeezed.

  “I’m here.”

  “Thank God,” he sighed, turning toward my voice.

  “What’s going on, Cole?”

  He sat up and ran long fingers through his hair, pushing the thick mane away from his face. He groped for the covered elastic on the nightstand and gathered the strands into a loose tail at the back of his neck. “You can switch on the lamp if you want.”

  I did, and when the room lit up, I could see that he’d had some sort of shock. He was unshaven, a rare sight considering his fastidious nature, and the scraggly stubble made him look ashen and defeated. The lines around his mouth were more pronounced and his clothes were wrinkled, another sign that his world had been turned upside down. Usually the color of freshly brewed tea, Cole was a perfect combination of Irish and Japanese genes that had been my undoing for years. Under normal circumstances, he was an attractive man who’d hardly aged since we met years ago except for the jet-black hair that was now more salt than pepper. In a year or two, the white would overtake the entire lot, making him a silver fox before his fortieth birthday, a striking contrast to his youthful physique. His eyes, however, remained unchanged. They were still the same compelling blue that bore into me and made me catch my breath, even if he couldn’t see a damn thing. It always felt like he had a fast track into my soul.

  “Thanks for coming, Sloan.”

  “You want to tell me what’s making you so miserable?”

  “Let me show you instead,” he said.

  He stood and slipped his stocking feet into his leather slippers. Freddie and I followed him out the apartment to the bank of elevators. He hit the button for the twentieth floor, where Noriko lived with the boys and a Japanese nanny. The door to her apartment was unlocked, and I gasped when we walked in. The place had been ransacked.

  “Were you robbed?” I asked immediately. “Is that why the kids are gone? Did she take them somewhere to protect them?”

  He shook his head and went to the kitchen. On the dinette, there was a letter written on some flimsy paper as well as a DVD in a boxed case. The words were in English, although printed with heavy black ink in a floral hand that was almost calligraphic. I assumed the DVD was a spoken version of the letter for Cole’s benefit.

  “Read it,” he said, handing me the paper.

  He sat with his head in his hands as I read. The blood froze in my veins when I caught the gist of the demands. Kidnapping and ransom were ugly words no matter how flowery the script. The boys and Noriko were on their way to Japan, and the only way Cole would ever see them again was if he came up with three million dollars. The rest of the letter was a long and convoluted set of instructions I couldn’t see because of the tears filling my eyes.

  “Who in hell are these people, Cole?”

  “Yakuza,” he whispered, spitting out the word like it was vilest thing on the planet.

  “What does it mean?”

  Cole raised his head and gave me a quizzical look that spoke volumes. He was an expert at making me feel dumb. “Most people recognize the name, Sloan.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “It’s the biggest organized crime syndicate in Japan. They have branches all over the world.”

  “Why did they pick you?”

  “It seems I’m still paying for my father’s stupidity.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You know about Noriko’s ancestry.”

  “Tell me again so I know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Noriko’s biological grandmother, Mieko, lived and worked in the same okiya, or geisha house, as my grandfather’s mistress, Rieko. They became good friends, and when Mieko died in childbirth, Rieko adopted the baby, Hana, who is Noriko’s mother.”

  “Right, now I remember. Your ex-wife comes from a long line of women in the service industry.” Cole’s facial expression changed. I realized at once that sarcasm and the rehashing of our painful breakup was counterproductive to this current crisis. Putting my inner bitch back in the drawer where she belonged, I apologized. “I’m sorry, Cole, that was uncalled for.”

  He nodded and continued his dissertation on the whores of Kyoto. “Reiko, who’s still alive, by the way, managed to keep the geisha house afloat during the war by borrowing money from the Yakuza. Loan-sharking is a lucrative part of their organization, and they charge usurious rates of interest. Noriko was everyone’s ticket to freedom. The fee she received for becoming my surrogate paid off her own debt to the okiya, but apparently, she continued making monthly payments to try to reduce Reiko’s astronomical balance, which had compounded through the years. Noriko kept her end of the bargain while my wife, but she stopped sending the monthly payments as soon as we divorced. She thought they’d give her a pass, seeing as how she no longer had access to my income.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “Noriko said so in the DVD.”

  “But wasn’t your settlement more than generous?”

  “Very generous, but if you factor in a thousand dollar payment each month on an ancient debt, it begins to pale in comparison to what she could have as my wife. Unfortunately, she never told me the truth, or I would have tried to come up with a fair solution.”

  “She’s good at that.”

  “What?”

  “Omitting the truth,” I said, forgetting my good intentions to filter. It was one thing to forgive the monstrous lies that had led to our breakup, but this was the fucking icing on the mountain of shit I’d been dealing with since Noriko came into our lives.

  “I’m just as angry as you, Sloan. She had no right to keep this from me and jeopardize my family.”

  “Is she in cahoots with them?”

  Silently, he pushed a small box toward me. It was made of blue velvet and looked like a jeweler’s case. It took a few heartbeats for the contents to register after I opened the box, but when I realized I was looking at Noriko’s pinkie, the one that had the Cartier puzzle ring, I hurled all over the kitchen floor. My head started to spin, and I continued to retch long after I’d emptied out my gut. Cole was beside me in a second, as soon as he heard me barf. When there was nothing left to upchuck, he wiped my mouth with a napkin he’d dipped in water, then cradled my head against his waist.

  “I can assure you that Noriko is not in cahoots with these people,” he said flatly. “They’ve threatened to keep sending me more of her body parts if I don’t come up with t
he money by the deadline.”

  I stared up at him in shock. “We have to call the police, Cole.”

  “I’ll never see the boys again if we do. They’ll separate them and sell them off to desperate families who’ll pay and do anything to adopt a healthy male child, especially one with Japanese genes.”

  “Trent will know exactly what to do; this is right up his alley.”

  “You mustn’t tell him.”

  “Don’t be so damn proud!”

  “This has nothing to do with pride! Don’t you think the Yakuza know about Trent and his military connections? They know everything, Sloan. The negotiations will blow up in my face as soon as I bring him into the picture.”

  “Then we’ll find someone else.”

  “I won’t involve the cops or the FBI.”

  “Why not ask Bryce?”

  “Come on, Sloan, I barely know the guy. I can’t expect him to close down his bar indefinitely.”

  “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help you out. You are in a relationship, aren’t you?”

  “Really? Now’s not the time or place to be having this discussion.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Come with me to Japan. Be my eyes so I can bring them home.”

  “Won’t they suspect something if you bring along an ex-lover who happens to be engaged to someone with a military background?”

  “They can’t expect me to do this alone. You were my partner for years, and it’s only natural that I turn to you for help.”

  “Right… of course… it makes perfect sense.” Jesus fucking Christ….

  Chapter 2

  BEFORE LEAVING Cole’s apartment, I had a double shot of vodka to calm down and then brushed my teeth to get rid of the vile combination of booze and vomit. I would have had a cigarette as well, except I’d given them up again a few months ago and Trent would smell the tobacco before I even lit the damn stick. Way back when, I would have resorted to weed, because there was no way I’d be able to carry this off sober. Then again, I doubted I’d succeed despite whatever chemical aids were handy. Trent would see right through my lies, and in all honesty, I wanted to tell him what was going on. The only thing stopping me was the idea I’d be responsible for three lives that would surely be jeopardized by his interference or, worse yet, that Niki and Keni would be sold to the highest bidder because I couldn’t keep a secret. Christ, this was a goddamn mess.

  And what about the wedding scheduled ten days from now? Cole couldn’t wait around until then. We’d have to move on this as soon as possible or those gangsters would send Cole another care package. I didn’t love Noriko, but we’d found a comfortable truce after Cole’s suicide attempt and got along on a superficial level. She was the children’s mother, after all, and I didn’t want her maimed any more than she’d already been. I wondered if they had given her some sort of anesthetic before they’d lopped off her finger. The very thought of that scene made me shudder.

  Trent was already home: the music was on, and votive candles were lit in the living room. He’d planned a seduction to make up for his earlier tirade. Normally, I’d already be sporting wood, but my mind was too occupied with Cole’s current situation to get into the scene laid before me. Trent had the familiar tools handy, and this time, when I saw the blade, I winced. My sympathy for Noriko’s missing digit overtook the lust that usually swamped me when I knew we were about to do some knife play. Tonight would be the first time in our relationship that I’d balk at Trent’s implied suggestion.

  The sound of the shower was reassuring. It gave me more time to put my game face in order. Not that I had one—I was a model, not a Broadway star. Still, a good performance was called for tonight so I had to get into the zone. God, I hated being put in this position again. The last time I’d comforted Cole had cost me big-time. This current situation was entirely different, but Trent would assume the worst if I zoomed off to Japan without a good explanation. What in the hell was I going to say?

  All thoughts evaporated when Trent walked into the bedroom stark naked. He was towel-drying his hair and had drops of water dotting his shoulders, cascading down his chest and six-pack toward his thick cock, which was already showing signs that he was happy to see me. The sight never grew old, and the knowledge that he was mine for the taking was always a bit of a shock. He was built like a fucking god.

  “Hey,” he said, sounding a lot more subdued than when he’d stormed out earlier.

  “Back atcha.”

  The blue eyes zeroed in on my groin, and he smirked, knowing I was reacting. “Wanna mess around?”

  I nodded and walked toward him.

  “Strip,” he said, helping by yanking my T-shirt over my head.

  By the time I was down to my boxers, we were both rock hard. He thumbed my slit through the gap in the silk and smiled when a big spot appeared like magic. “Do you want instant relief or a long and drawn-out session?”

  “Can we pass on the knives tonight and move on to the plowing?” I had this sudden need to possess Trent again. He’d refused to bottom from the very beginning of our relationship, and after learning why, I’d understood and stopped pushing. But he’d surprised me that magical night on the yacht by allowing me to top, and I wanted another shot at him to feel grounded. So much had shifted in the last couple of hours, and I was having a mini meltdown. Neither one of us had mentioned the Regency wear or Trent’s final decision. We were both avoiding the issue because, sure as shit, it would lead to another fight. It was better to fuck our way to some kind of compromise.

  I pushed my boxers down and kicked them away. Scrambling onto the bed, I looked over my shoulder and noticed Trent hadn’t budged. “How do you want me?”

  “Trussed up like a Christmas goose.”

  “Come on, Trent. Forget the scenes and get on with the main event.”

  “Have I ever mentioned you’re a bossy little submissive?”

  “About a thousand times.”

  “Do you ever plan to change?”

  “Not likely.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “Your only saving grace is that humongous cock. It trumps all your bad behavior.”

  “Fucking size queen,” I murmured softly, reaching for his arm and pulling him down on the bed. The lube was at my fingertips, and I slicked up, waiting for Trent to ask me what in the hell I was doing. I was sure he’d protest, but he didn’t say another word. He just watched me get ready with hungry eyes. It was hot as fuck, and I dragged it out, enjoying the effect on my big, bad Dom.

  Trancelike, he slid down beside me and rolled over. His ass was absolutely perfect, hairless globes that begged to be split in half. I licked my lips, which had gone dry with anticipation. Lying over Trent, I began to rub, letting my cock slide between his ass cheeks, but not penetrating. It was deliciously slow and deliberate. I was long enough to rub his taint with my cockhead with hardly any effort. Trent moaned in appreciation as I pushed past his balls, making him grind his cock against the mattress. I bit down on his shoulder, ratcheting the pleasure up another notch. Turned out my guy liked biting. A lot. He raised his hips slightly and slid his hands underneath so he could grab his cock, but I batted them away.

  “No touching,” I growled. “I want you to wait for me.”

  “Then get on with it,” he snapped.

  “Now who’s being bossy?”

  “Sloan….” He was so not amused.

  I scooted down and face-planted into his core, inhaling his musk as I twirled my tongue around and around the soft creases. He was clenching with apprehension, but my persistence paid off, and he began to relax as I licked and poked. Slutty noises were escaping his throat, and I kept going because I could. It was empowering to hear this proud man beg for release. Soon he was rutting against my face, and I knew it was time to fuck him or he’d spooge all over the sheets without me touching his cock.

  I got on my knees and yanked up his hips, pushing his legs apart so he was open and displayed like an enticing
dessert. Grabbing the lube again, I slathered another handful on us to make sure my entry would be bearable. He’d be tight, but that was to be expected, this being his second time to bottom in years. He’d gifted me with his almost virgin ass on the yacht as part of our mock wedding ceremony, and although it had been good, I knew this time would be far better.

  Positioning myself against his hole, I entered him slowly, pushing past the tight ring of muscle that finally gave. His ass sucked me in, and he groaned in relief. I echoed the feelings as the tightness enveloped me. God, he felt amazing.

  “You okay?” I asked, being the polite sub that he’d taught me to be.

  “Good,” he managed to huff out.

  Clutching his hips for leverage, I began to move, sinking deep and then rocking with the utmost care to give him time to adjust to my girth. I was mesmerized by the sight of my cockhead stretching his hole. We were getting into the timeless rhythm of push and pull, and I snaked a hand down and gripped his cock, which pulsed against his belly and oozed a stream of precum as I filled him completely. He moaned while I toyed with his helmet for a while, and then urged me to get on with it. I began to move a little faster while jerking him in long strokes. Changing my angle slightly, I grazed his prostate and felt his entire body clamp around me like a vise. A steam of cum shot out of him, and he yelped when I squeezed and pumped him like a milking machine while driving my cock in and out of his ass like a battering ram. A few seconds later, I dumped my load into his depths accompanied by a long and drawn-out sigh of relief.