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Chapter Twelve
The note was cryptic, but he had nothing better to do. Lying awake most of the night and not even enjoying the time without sleep had him in a daze.
“Mr. Madison, Sir, may I help you dress?”
The slaves at the dungeon were amazing, and he enjoyed their presence most of the time. Not that day. “No. I’ll be fine.”
“Please, Sir, don’t be late.”
The little slave left, and he sat on the bed, feeling a pit in his stomach get harder and heavier.
When he left the room, he asked his guards to ready the plane to take off that afternoon. He knew he’d have to take Eli along, not leave him in the desert. How he’d sit on the plane for hours with him, he didn’t know.
He went to the dining room and was served a cup of coffee and as he was finishing that, Ryan and Brett walked in, greeting him warmly. “Ryan said you were here,” Brett said as he sat across from him. “You don’t look like you rested. Are you okay?”
“Brett,” Ryan warned, “don’t pry.”
“I’m sorry, High Master. I worry about our clients.”
Lee stared across from him, seeing the overly innocent smile that was trying so hard to be sympathetic and he laughed a little, though his heart wasn’t in it. “You can’t stand me, Brett.”
“That’s not true. I may not like your politics, but as a person, of course I care.”
Ryan broke in before Brett could dig himself a deeper hole. “He does care about all our clients, Lee. That includes the one you brought with you. He got a little overboard, after you fired him.”
Lee’s head shot up and he strained to squeak, “What do you mean?”
Brett spoke, his voice overly soothing. “Oh, he’s fine. Ryan doesn’t really know how submissives deal with things.”
“Submissives? Eli?”
“Yes,” Ryan sighed. “Another one. I mean, he’s obviously a novice.”
“Oh, sure, he is,” Brett agreed. “But he’s learning so fast. He’s already told me that if Lee doesn’t want to take him back to DC with him on the plane, he’d stay here happily until we can get him back home.”
“He said that?”
Brett and Ryan were staring at him strangely. Ryan asked him, “Lee, what’s wrong? Would that bother you?”
“For one thing, no! I hate the asshole, and two, he’s no submissive. I am, and we’re as different as night and day.”
“Then maybe,” Ryan said, shrugging, “you’re not really a submissive. I never thought you were.”
“Me neither,” Brett said, then bit into his toast.
“What the hell are you two talking about?”
Sighing hard, Ryan dismissed, “Go see for yourself about him. He’s down the northwest corridor, in the middle of the other rooms. You can peek in without bothering them.”
“Them?”
His humor brought back to life, Ryan laughed and asked him, “Do you think he’s jacking off on his own or something? You don’t think he’d take full advantage of things?”
Lee was up and running, heading down the stairs so carelessly that he could have easily broken his neck.
The corridors were marked in small lettering near their entrances, and he quickly went to the right one, running down it as he heard his own steps coming back to him, mocking him. He couldn’t believe what they’d said, that Eli was submissive. He’d come into Lee’s life like a tank, rolling over everything Lee had built.
There were three closed rooms in the center, and he stopped, breath huffing body aching from what, he didn’t know. He opened the first peephole, looking through the three bars on the other side to see the room was empty of anyone. The second was the same, so the third had to be the one.
