| |
Still lost in her dissociated fugue, Kennedy jostled at a rapid rate along somewhere bumpy, rough and painful, in a somewhat upright position. More like dragged on her ass. The tape had been replaced on her mouth, the hood tugged over her head once more.
This is it, she thought. The end is near. She felt like a ghost, drifting above her body, aware, but no feelings of any kind floating through. The hours she spent in the room earlier seemed like some remote dream. She’d somehow talked them into letting her relieve her bladder. The rest of the time she’d been prone on the bed, bound like a calf at a rodeo, unable to move. Now she thought she might be famished, or else her body had completely shut down. Probably the latter.
Rocks dug into her butt and legs. Finally, she stopped. A metal jangle, like keys, a squeaky hinge, like someone opening a massive chain link gate, another tug, and she was released by her captor, her head and shoulders falling with a thud. The crackle of a walkie-talkie followed.
“Boss? She’s here,” said a gruff voice. “Leave her? If you say so. Behind the rocks? Got it. Hold on. Need to check the surroundings. Nothing’s back here, right? Of course, I have my gun. Okay. What? If she survives.” Laughter followed.
Kennedy’s fear grew pronounced. If I survive? Where am I?
Footsteps tromped, another squeak of the gate, and silence.
She lay in the sack, or body bag, or whatever it was, terrified, panting, then crying, wriggling, wrestling, then attempting to scream through her taped mouth. She’d get her mind clear, forcing calm into her system, then, lose it. She seemed to pass in and out of consciousness. She stilled when she sensed someone or something approaching, accompanied by the tune of rustling grass.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. A big muzzle rooted around her body, accompanied by sniffling sounds. Sniff, sniff, sniff. A huge paw raked across her chest, followed by the tearing of cloth as dagger-like talons shredded the fabric.
Her heart sank. I’m in the back acreage of the sanctuary. They’ve left me here to die by a tiger. She squeezed her eyes, trying to force back the hot tears pooling in her eyes. Which cats are out here today? If it’s Akono, I’m screwed. He’s not used to me, at all. Still adjusting. Fears us. It couldn’t be him, right? He’s still in one of the cages. Still in rehab. Right? Please, God, let me be right.
Unlike hanging with humans, being around tigers usually calmed her. Not this time. Sure, they were unpredictable, like Akono. They kept him secured, stayed their distance, eased him into accepting them. Sure, she might lose her life to a tiger one day, today, in fact.
As Mosi had taught her, it took finesse, skill, infinite patience and luck to get a tiger to accept you. But still, she adored them and loved her work with them passionately. She simply didn’t want to die as a victim, for God’s sake. Overpowered. At the mercy of a man she despised. But trussed as she was, this would surely be her fate.
Another scraping paw, another tear of fabric, a wicked raking sensation along her pants clad thigh, but it didn’t feel like he tore the skin. Another rake. Another rip. A large, wet nose landed on her arm, followed by more snuffles. The big cat pushed her with his muzzle. His teeth gripped the sack and her arm, nipping at her skin. He dragged her a few feet, causing the bag to fall away somewhat.
I hope I’m not someone’s lunch. Kennedy pushed her hooded face through the opening revealed by the feline.
He seemed to lay on his belly, his heavy front legs trapping her, as he began licking her. His sandpapery, lapping tongue caused the hood to shift, moving it away from her head.
She blinked, inhaling the fresh night air, dank fur, tiger spit, and popcorn smelling piss, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light of a city night, staring at the scarred muzzle of Raja. Raja. Oh, my big, sweet Raja. She’d never been gladder to see a tiger. He probably hoped for his cat enrichment ritual, usually held in the pool and never at night, but she was his main trainer. What he was doing in the “back forty” was anyone’s guess. No doubt Barnes’s had changed things around, messing with the consistency she knew these cats needed to trust her.
What she was doing back here was clear—she’d been meant to die, the same way Mosi had died, in a violent, horrific manner, in the middle of a teeming metropolis, one of five famous boroughs, thriving with life, hidden from sight. She cautiously lifted her bound hands to her face, wriggling them out from Raja’s embrace, tearing away the tape on her mouth with a sharp sting. She opened and closed her stiff jaw. “Hey, Raja. Hey, kitty.” She did her best to scritchy-scratch his muzzle.
The cat continued to lick her face, her head, and her chest, grooming her the same way he’d do with a mate or his mother. She tried to maneuver her body out from under him, but he insisted on keeping her pinned.
Then, his grooming apparently complete, he flopped on his side, his massive head landing on her chest, practically crushing her.
She let out a grunt, struggling for breath, hoping he hadn’t broken any ribs.
He rolled onto his back, sliding off her torso, and undulated side to side.
She struggled to sit up and studied her legs. They were chained, hobbling her. At best, she could manage a “dead man walking” kind of shuffle. Her wrists were tightly bound in front with a large, plastic wire tie, and would take some work to undo. “Thank God you came, Raja,” she told the big cat.
Raja responded by getting to his feet, draping a front leg over her shoulder, and wrestling her back to the ground.
“Ouch!” She fell on a pile of sharp, loose gravel and river rock. “Okay, kitty. Good boy,” she said, trying to endure his affection as best she could, all the while scheming on getting free and alerting someone to her capture.
Raja stopped, tensed and lifted his head, turning to look in the opposite direction.
“What is it? What do you see, boy?” She heaved herself up to sitting, peering around, seeing nothing with her poor human night vision.
The tiger padded toward the fence.
“My dear, pet, Kennedy.”
The smooth, refined, ice-cold British accent sent chills down her spine. “Iniko,” she said, spite filling her throat.
“How fitting. The animal is in with the animal.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I came to check on you. How on Earth did you manage to get free?”
She heard him, but couldn’t yet see him, immersed as she was in darkness. “Guess I’m smart that way.” Shuffling forward, she spied his ugly face a couple yards away, glinting in the moonlight. Every vile thing she ever experienced at his doing, by his side, flooded her brain, making her want to puke. The parties, the drugs...being passed around like an appetizer...her footing lost in the quicksand of grief and shame...she stood in her past, utterly despicable, her future uncertain, as hobbled as her ankles. This is the end of me. I thought it the beginning, with Dante, the change arising from all my hard work...but no, it’s the end. Despair warred with fear, shackling her feet to the ground.
“How is it you’re here? Someone will see you. You’ll be caught.”
He let out a deep chuckle. “I don’t think so. And if they did, it wouldn’t matter. I own this place. And you know how it goes. It’s a he-said, she-said world. Who do you think holds more weight? An employee or the son of a king?”
“Right. I shackled myself and threw myself back here. I’m clever. This will fall on your head, even if I’m dead.”
“Barnes is getting paranoid. He’s a perfect patsy. I’m sure he’ll take the fall.”
“Barnes?” Kennedy frowned, as chills danced along her spine. “I heard you mention his name earlier. How do you know him?”
“He works for me. What did you think?”
“So you knew I’ve been here all this time?”
“Of course. I needed to keep my eye on you. From your pathetic tattoo to your useless sponsor, I know everything about you. I’ve been biding my time.”
A sick churning threatened to hurl a whole lot of nothing from her stomach. He knows everything?
“How do you know about my tattoo?”
“One of my guys paid him off. He needed some money.”
What a loser jackass. “What do you know about Nan...my sponsor?”
“Nothing much. She’s boring. But she helps us keep track of your whereabouts. All this bullshit about anonymity in your programs...” He let out a chuckle, like a cackle.
Icy chills cooled Kennedy’s skin at the thought of being tracked, like an animal, for years. “Who contacted me from the African consulate?”
“How should I know?”
“And why now? What makes now the time to come after me?” She scanned her surroundings, searching for an escape. Her gaze landed on the opening at the bottom of the gate, probably the same gate she’d been dragged through. Meant for shoving large chunks of meat through at feeding time, no fucking way could she slither through the two-foot-wide hole. Not unless I was a magician.
She scoffed. I’m in a frigging tiger pen, for God’s sake, restrained. I can’t exactly climb the fence, nor can I pick locks. Big Jim might come out here, but sometimes we go for days without patrolling the back forty. And he never comes out here at night, at least not that I know of.
“Because you’re on Page Six. With a superstar. It’s the perfect time for another untimely death, don’t you think? With him at the height of his career. I may have missed once, but this time...” He let the words hang, like a noose around her neck. “I wouldn’t want you to attain any happiness. Not if I can help it. And...I want my diamonds back. And my fortune.” He spoke with dead calm, laced with evil intent.
The skin at the back of her neck prickled with alarm. “I don’t have them. I told you. I gave the diamonds to Mosi. I have no fortune. Guess you’ll have to dig up his grave, won’t you? Or, perform a séance. See if he’ll talk to you from the other side.”
Iniko frowned. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” she said, spitting out the words.
“My father is trying to deny me my inheritance. Let’s just say we’re in negotiations at the moment.” He coughed out a cold laugh. “More like blackmail. Beloved King Khari has secrets he’d rather not be revealed. When Mosi died, my father diverted his trust to you. It was supposed to go to me. When you turn thirty, you’ll get money which is mine. I turn thirty next year. You’re supposed to turn thirty next year. But you’ll be dead. There’s a loophole in our royal system which means, the money will be returned to me.”
Kennedy’s frown deepened. I’m supposed to inherit Mosi’s money? “I don’t want Mosi’s or your money. You can keep it.”
Iniko chuckled. “Oh, girl. I know you better than that. You loved the wealthy life my brother gave to you. The parties, the glamour...”
Raja sniffed the air and let out a low grumble.
“Easy, cat.”
Raja growled and hissed.
“I fucking hate tigers. This one’s gone too soft. I’m afraid we’ll have to put him down.”
And that’s when Kennedy heard the cock of a rifle, accompanied by something far more deadly—the snarls and charge of another tiger. Oh, no. Who the hell let another tiger in with Raja? Could it be Akona? Good God, am I in trouble now.
