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I had no idea what I meant to do if and when I found him. Leave Mark a note? Gone to find the man who beats me and might save my life and might be my lover. XXOO Don't wait up.
Would I lie and tell him I was back on the job? One phone call and he could disprove that and I didn't want to lie.
Just disappear? He deserved way better than that. I was starting to think Mark deserved way better than me.
This – searching for someone, trying to find where they'd gone to ground – I was supposed to be good at. But Cole hadn't broken any laws. Well, not any anyone knew about. He was a private citizen with the ability to pay whatever necessary to keep his whereabouts private.
And he was. He could be anywhere in the world, but where he'd taken me was close to home. He spent most of his time in Las Vegas and that's where we'd been to start with. If the second location had actually been a separate location, it was close to where we'd started despite the ride by blindfold in the car that had taken hours. I thought that was misdirection.
A man of his proclivities and having the money he had could go anywhere he wanted to pursue his pleasures. For all I knew, he only needed someone to beat and "fix" once a month. Once a quarter. Once a year. Maybe that had done it for him. Maybe the erections were chemically enhanced and all he really wanted was the sadism.
Maybe I shouldn't be looking for him.
That thought made me search that much harder.
San Francisco had a lot of dungeons. I had to start somewhere. If he didn't pay to have a girl delivered to his door every time he needed one and if he needed one more often than once every blue moon, maybe his name or at least his general description would be evident in the clubs.
The dungeons.
It was a stupid idea. There were probably as many dungeons in Seattle as San Francisco so why was I thinking San Francisco? It was twice as far from Seattle to Vegas as San Francisco to Vegas. For that matter, Vegas probably had plenty of dungeons, as did any major city. So why was I going to San Francisco?
"Because it's famous for sex," I said aloud. "And he lives in Vegas. He may not want to play there." Not because a billionaire needed to be shy about his sexual preferences, though money wouldn't shield him from being shy. But because lawsuits would be a lot easier from someone in the same city who woke up with a morning after case of regret.
Just like that I had a plan.
I'd heard from my father that morning. He was stuck in the hospital and when they released him, he'd be going to rehab. "Since you seem to think it's a good idea," he said, letting me know he now blamed me.
Fine with me. Whatever got him healthy. The case was waiting. I think he'd realized that as long as he was still a patient he didn't have to be a defendant. That was good. It gave us both some time.
Once I knew he was okay, I booked a flight, packed a bag, and drove to the airport.
It wasn't until I was showing my boarding pass that I realized I hadn't left Mark any word at all.
