Kennedy took her phone out of her small clutch purse, her fingers shaking. She managed to type in a text. Jim. Need you.
In a few seconds, he replied. I’m here for you. Always.
On my way, she typed, then gave the address to the taxi driver. Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it. Dante, she thought. I shouldn’t have left him like that.
Kennedy. Meet me at my place. Please. He added an address, a couple blocks from the Dakota, the famous apartment where John Lennon was murdered.
“Figures he’d live in such a swank area,” she muttered. She shook her head and turned off her phone, blinking back tears. I can’t do this. Not with a rock star. All he wants is sex.
As they weaved toward the Heights Sanctuary, she managed to calm her raging emotions, practicing the deep breathing techniques she learned. Forty-five minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the curb and dropped her off. She paid the driver and made her way to the tiny cottage at the edge of the sanctuary. Lifting her hand to knock, she jumped back, surprised when the door flew open.
Big Jim filled the doorway, his midnight dark eyes fraught with concern. Dressed only in khakis, no shirt adorning his nut-brown skin, he opened his arms, and she fell into his warm, soothing embrace. “Jim,” she breathed into his solid chest. “I’m in trouble.”
“Come in,” he said, releasing her, guiding her inside his humble dwelling. “I’ll fix you some cocoa.”
She entered the cozy room. A studio apartment built for the caretaker of the sanctuary, Big Jim had taken to it right away when they’d arrived in New York. “Come on, choty goty,” he’d said to her when she said he’d need something more significant. “Get real. I’ve lived in a tent, I’ve lived in a hut, I’ve slept under the stars…this room is fit for a king. Plus, it keeps me close to the beasts.”
A lamp glowed softly next to his bed. A paperback book lay, face down, opened to the page Jim must have read before Kennedy arrived. The bed sat underneath a window overlooking the tiger compound. The kitchen occupied half of one wall, along with a door to the sanctuary. A table and chairs rested against the third wall.
“Sit. I’ll make you the cocoa while you tell me your woes.” He kissed the top of her head before stepping to the two-burner stove, placing a tea kettle on top. He flipped the burner to high. Then he reached into the cupboard and retrieved a box of hot cocoa packets. Tearing one open, he poured the chocolate milk powder and dried marshmallows into a mug.
His movements were precise and unhurried, causing Kennedy to calm even further. She let out a deep sigh.
Big Jim turned and leaned against the counter, dwarfing the space around him. “So, what’s the problem?”
“Oh, I went out with a guy tonight…a guy I knew a long time ago.”
Big Jim nodded. “What’s the matter with that? Mosi would want you to date again. You’ve been lonely.”
“I know,” she said, trying to quash the tears filling her eyes. “I know Mosi would. But this is no ordinary guy. He’s a famous rock star.”
“I thought you were through with celebrity, Kennedy. Is he kind?”
“Yes. Dante doesn’t fit my stereotype of a pop musician. He’s intelligent and thoughtful. But…” Her voice trailed off.
The tea kettle let out a high pitched whistle. Jim reached for it, poured hot water into the cup, and stirred it with a spoon. He placed it before her on a white paper napkin before settling his six-foot-five frame into the chair opposite her. “But?” he said.
“He’s a superstar, complete with all the trappings. He seems used to getting his own way. I sometimes feel bulldozed by him.”
“And you want to keep control, am I right?”
“Well, duh. I lost control, big time. Don’t need to lose it again.”
Big Jim sighed. “Girlfriend. There are safe ways to let go of the reins. You can choose the ‘how and the where.’ Lay down some ground rules. There’s no shame in that.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not like this. We were accosted by paparazzi and fans when we left the restaurant. I’m afraid I’ll be on some tabloid tomorrow morning. Mosi’s family could see.” She covered her face with her hands. “I might have stumbled back into chaos when I thought I was getting free of it.”
A troubled look darkened Big Jim’s compassionate face. “I doubt they read the news from the United States.”
“I don’t know.” She dragged her hand through her hair. “Someone could read it and say something.”
“You know you did nothing wrong.”
“I know that, and you know that. And yet, a man died by my foolishness.”
Jim scoffed and shook his head.
Kennedy’s gaze slid toward him, puzzled. He knows the story as well as I. “And the family, in their grief, still wants me to pay, years later. At least some of them do. As if losing him wasn’t payment enough.” She picked up the napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Good grief. I was actually starting to have fun with this man. Dante. His name is Dante. It should be Diablo.” She chuckled, then sobered. “And then, with all the flashes blowing up in my face, and all the shrieks of fans, I panicked and took off.”
“You left him?” Big Jim’s eyebrows raised.
“Yes, right there on the sidewalk, fighting with the guy with the camera. Some date I am, huh?”
“If he’s as kind as you say he is, he’s probably filled with remorse that you had to experience that.”
“You think so?”
“I would be.”
“Maybe.” She sipped at her hot beverage. It wasn’t as good as the real cocoa at Hot Shots, but it was made by Big Jim’s hands, infused with his care. “I suppose I should touch base with him. We were having a good time. Only I’ll feel a little embarrassed.”
“Girl, you’re going to have to pull up your britches and deal.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m also having a difficult time telling Dante I’m an addict. His girlfriend died of an overdose. Why would he want to be with me?”
“That’s for him to decide, not you. You have to give him a chance to see you for who you are--a courageous woman who has faced adversity and risen above.”
“Maybe,” she said again. “Honestly, though, I think Dante wants me for sex, nothing more. It could be a moot point.” She took another sip of cocoa. “Let’s change the subject. How’s Kato doing?” She hadn’t taken the time to see the ancient tiger for a few days. Many years ago, she and Mosi had rescued him from a sleazy tiger operation in Thailand when Mosi was alive, and they were in love. They nourished him together, calling him their child, even though he was a full-grown adult when they got him. A zoo here in the States purchased him, then after a year, decided they couldn’t keep him, so he ended up at the Heights. Now the big cat neared twenty, nearly one hundred in human years, and his health was gradually failing him.
“Still Kato,” Big Jim said. “He has his good days and his bad days, like anyone of his age. You know that. He’s an old tiger.”
“Can I see him now?”
“I’m sure he’d love to see you. He always does.”
She stood and followed Jim out the back door leading to the sanctuary. Along the way, she retrieved a plastic tub of meat chunks to feed the elder feline.
They strode the concrete walkways toward the pens in the back of the compound hidden from public viewing. In the dark, with the whiffs of foliage, earth, and popcorn-smelling tiger piss wafting in the breeze, soft chuffing sounds and loud moans emerged from Kato’s pen as she approached.
She made a human equivalent, deep in her throat.
Jim retrieved the keys from his pants pocket and unlocked the padlock to the large, fenced area in the back of the compound, where Kato roamed.
Kennedy let herself in with the great tiger, the only tiger she’d approach so boldly. “Let me collect my thoughts, okay, Jim?”
“Okay, I’ll be in my cottage when you need me.” He disappeared into the darkness, sliding into the shadows, as quickly as one of the large felines.
In the dim light of the moon, she made out Kato’s form. A magnificent beast, he weighed over seven hundred pounds. He sat, waiting, probably sniffing the treats the second she stepped from the kitchen. He spent much of his days sleeping, and no doubt, most of the night. At times, he frolicked in his pond like a kitten, splashing and playing with the stream of water that continuously poured from the spigot. At other times, he chewed on or rolled the giant rubber ball in his pen. Or he paced the perimeter, marking his territory. His days were definitely numbered, but he lived them with the same grace from earlier days.
She plucked a cube of meat from the tub and held it out to him, keeping her palm straight.
He took it in his mouth, his massive teeth scraping her hand, his wet, sand-papery tongue tickling her skin.
She continued feeding him until the container was empty.
Then as she stood before him, his hot breath landed on her face, and his large tongue rasped against her cheek.
She ruffled his furry muzzle, kissing his wet nose. “My old tiger. Help me sort things, okay?”
He finished grooming her and then lay down with a loud groan.
She lay next to him, resting her head on his striped side. “What am I to do, Kato? How can I be with a rock star?” She gazed up at the starry night, barely visible through the lights of the city that washed the sky with civilization. Her life hadn’t been one of ease and comfort like she imagined the privileged students at her high school lived. But Dante had spoken of a different reality, one perhaps similar to her own. Through his words, she glimpsed the possibility that excess income did not result in ease. Heartache happened even among the rich. And I walk with predators. How is being with Dante any more or less dangerous?
Still, if Mosi’s family caught up with her, it could be hell. She wasn’t very wealthy, to begin with. Yet, every damn dime she owned would be used for lawyers, if not handed over to the Khari’s, Mosi’s royal family.
She rolled to her side, sniffing the big cat’s fur, stroking his plush leg with her fingers. No other cat was like Kato. She’d never presume such intimacy with the others. “So, you think I should give him a chance, don’t you? You, you were a playboy. You bred with some of the finest. And you never turned mean or cruel or unkind, even when you worked at the temple circus in Thailand.” She sighed. “All right, if you insist. I’ll give him what he wants…sex. Then we can go our separate ways.” She chose to ignore the longing in her heart for more, and the heady sensations the thought of sex with Dante Vega stirred.
She fished her phone free from her pocket and turned it on. Several texts and two phone messages lay in wait. She flipped through the texts. The first one said, You saw the man, not the superstar, I know you did. Give the man a chance. The last one said simply, I’ll stay up until you get here, even if it’s morning. The phone message said something similar.
She quickly typed in a message. I’m coming over.
His answer came in an instant. I’m ready.
I probably smell like tiger piss. Kennedy waited for a reply.
The tiger beneath her stirred, causing her to lift her head. He got to his feet, gave her a sniff, as if confirming her statement, and padded toward the pond, perhaps thinking of a starlight dip in the pool.
Kennedy stood, brushing off her pants. Her phone blipped, and she quickly scanned it.
I probably smell like a freaked-out male. Scared you’d run for good.
She smiled at his confession. Needed to sort my head.
Sort it over here. Let me help.
“Yep, the man seems kind.” She let herself out of Kato’s pen, waving to his ghostly body standing in the pond, in the moonlight, watching her. On the way back to Big Jim’s cottage, she dropped the plastic container in the sink, filled it with soap and water, and scrubbed her arms, hands, and face with the strong cleanser they used to wash off the animal stink. So I don’t smell like a fairy princess. I hope he at least appreciates a good clean fuck.