Like it or not, big hearts aren’t enough to support an adult male tiger. It costs over fifteen thousand dollars a year just to keep Bruce fed, and that’s after a secure pen, vet check-ups, and proper enclosure space.
I have the money. The trouble is, it’ll certainly be tracked.
Grady says he’ll make the donation in my name, but again, Faulk pointed out that would raise red flags, too.
Once the FBI comes charging in, none of that will look good on our part.
Grady’s other friend, Ridge—the billionaire former Hollywood heartthrob—came up with the donation in cash, claiming it can’t be tracked.
And though I can pay him back when this is over, I’m reluctant to let anyone else wade into this, especially someone like a celebrity.
Ugh. I’m starting to realize how a fly feels in a spiderweb.
But this web is my life.
I’m trapped in another way, too.
I keep telling myself to stay away from Grady—just like I know he’s trying to hold back, too. But as soon as the sun sets, we morph into two different people.
People who can’t keep their hands and tongues to themselves. We end up downstairs every night, splayed out on the futon or sometimes just the floor, plunged into the hottest loving of our lives.
The quiet moments after we’re exhausted and tangled up in each other leave me wrecked.
That’s when Grady assures me we’re going to work this out.
Everything.
But I know he’s only saying it to make me feel better.
There isn’t a crystal ball or a magical happy ending waiting around the bend.
We’re adults and we know it.
If anything, this probably won’t work out perfectly.
You know the odds are slim when a former FBI man drops the truth bomb and it guts him. I can tell every interaction with Faulk hurts him brutally, like he knows we’re doing our damnedest in a losing pitched battle.
Bruce lets out a low growl, snapping my attention back to the task at hand.
“Sorry, Mr. Snarlypants.” I kink the garden hose and lift it out of the water trough that’s currently overflowing.
Huffing out a breath, I carry the hose to the wall, turn off the spigot, and hang it up.
While pacing around the center of his pen, Bruce keeps his eyes on me. Grady made a few safety modifications after the tiger’s jailbreak besides just fixing doors. The large pen where he roams is now enclosed from floor to ceiling with chain-link mesh.
He’s restless, and I know why.
Besides picking up on my anxiety, he needs a bigger place to roam. To be outside in a pen where he can climb and play with balls and boxes, and doze in peace with his long whiskers twitching in the sunlight.
In my ham-fisted efforts to help, I’m ruining his dreams.
Mine, too.
Each day puts me a little deeper into the quicksand. Not just the investigation hovering over my head—but becoming too emotionally attached to Grady and his girls.
I have to take Bruce to Let’s Roar and end this.
The director, Jacob Cook, assured me three times that Bruce will have all the space he needs, inside and out. Plus, all the other care it takes to properly house big cats.
Oddly, that’s the easy part. After they’ve gotten their donation, they’ll gladly welcome Bruce with open arms.
I’m the idiot making this more difficult than it needs to be.
I don’t want to leave.
I like Grady and the girls and this small-town summer I wish would never end.
I’ve never had family like this, a community, like I do here.
Which is stupid, because the harsh truth is I don’t have it here.
Sure, I’ve gotten to know Drake’s wife, Bella, and Faulk’s wife, Tory, but they aren’t my friends. They’re Grady’s people, however fun and welcoming.
Everything I have here is thanks to him, and it makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of him.
Continuously.
I’m also living an illusion.
If a magic wand erased my tiger woes, Dallas doesn’t fit my life plan. A town without so much as a pet rescue is no place for a zoologist.
Sigh.
My phone vibrates then, and I question ignoring it, because Priscilla and Niles still fish regularly for a connection.
But it might be Cook and Let’s Roar wanting to finalize arrangements, so I pull the phone out of my pocket.
My heart drops to my toes when I see Dad on the screen.
Holy crap.
He’s still in Africa—somewhere in the Congo with near nonexistent cell service.
Hoping nothing serious has happened, I click the answer icon.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Willow!” he yells, his voice shrill like I’ve never heard before. “Thank God! I have a whole voicemail box full of messages saying you’ve disappeared.”
“Disappeared? From who?” Already knowing the answer, I walk over and lean against the storage room door.
“Exotic Plains, the Fosses. What’s going on?” he rushes out. “I’m still in the Congo, but one of my students needed to call home and found me, said it was an emergency. Apparently, they left a message on his phone. I had to travel a hundred miles, cross-country, to get back international service...only to find a dozen messages about you vanishing. Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I...uh—” I’ve never lied to my father, and I can’t start now. He’ll see through it completely. “I’m still in North Dakota, but I kinda quit Exotic Plains.”
“Quit? What happened?”
“It just...it wasn’t a good fit, Dad. I wasn’t comfortable with some of the things I saw there.” I bite my tongue, unsure how to tell him I’ve become one of those uncomfortable things.
Oh, yeah, and they’re also trying to frame us both for money laundering in the illegal animal trade.
NBD.
He’s silent for a moment, then I hear his familiar chuckle. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”
My heart sinks.
“I know. You told me sanctuaries are nothing like working with cats in the wild. You said I wouldn’t be happy working at one because I wouldn’t have enough say...”
And you were so effing right, Dad, I don’t add.
“Wow, was that me? Smart man.” He laughs again. “Listen, lovely lady, I didn’t call to gloat. Let me help you, once I’m back on the grid I’ll do some checking around and—”
“Dad, no! I’m just...I’m not ready for that quite yet.”
“Okay, then. How about I arrange a flight for you to join me? I’m in the Congo for another month, and then it’s on to India. We’ll be regrouping in Tezpur before heading out to Kaziranga for fieldwork. I could use your help. It’ll be just like old times.”
I can hear the excitement in his voice, and it hurts.
Oh, he’d love to have me with him again, but I can’t say yes.
Not when I have to protect him from here, hoping I can sort out this mess while he’s still off the grid.
“Question. Did you ever talk to anyone at Exotic Plains?” I ask.
“Not after hearing their first few messages. I called you.” His tone changes as he asks, “Funny, you know. They didn’t make it sound like you quit. That’s what had me worried. Are you sure you’re okay, Willow?”