Chloe had cried when she found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t been ready for motherhood. Her parents wouldn’t have objected if she’d had an abortion. But she’d been in love with Lyle, and he’d promised to take care of them.
What bullshit.
Lyle had only pretended to clean up his act. Her pregnancy had made it very easy for him to sneak around. While she’d stayed home, nauseous and tired, he’d been out late every night. He claimed to be working at a fast-food place. In reality, he was partying with his boys, attending band practice and selling drugs on the side.
She’d known this about him before the contraception fail. She’d partied with him.
He hadn’t slowed down for Emma's sake. He hadn’t seemed affected by fatherhood at all.
Lyle’s disinterest in Emma had broken Chloe’s heart. She wanted to be a good mother, so she’d changed for the better. He’d gone the opposite direction. A month after Emma was born, Chloe caught him snorting coke in the bathroom at her parents’ house. She told him it was over on the spot.
He’d stolen the money from her purse and left, high as a kite. He hadn’t called her since then or attempted to visit Emma. Not once in the past two years. At the time, she’d been devastated by his apathy. A combination of postpartum depression and breakup blues had brought her low. She’d cut her arm one afternoon and taken a handful of pills the next.
In the aftermath of this incident, her mother had been awarded temporary custody of Emma. Chloe had continued to live at home with Emma, but she didn’t get her full rights back for several months.
She was glad she’d fought her way out of that dark period, with the help of medication. Now she was strong again, and she had the tools to stay healthy. But she also recognized her potential for slipping. During an experience like this, it was hard to think positive. Having a supportive person beside her made all the difference.
“Thank you,” she said to Mateo, lifting her head. He might never know how much his help meant to her.
“Por nada, mamita,” he said. “Por nada.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JOSH STUDIED HELENA as they rode the Skylift back to the front of the park.
She appeared conflicted, even nauseated by what they’d done, which wasn’t very flattering. Her fear of heights probably factored into the equation, but so did guilt. She hadn’t lied to him about her relationship with Mitch.
Josh curled his hand around the safety bar, uneasy. He wasn’t a poacher. Dancing with Melody to get Trent’s goat was a far cry from actively pursuing another man’s girlfriend. He’d crossed the line with Helena and then some. What happened to his principles? Not only had he been eager for her to use him, he’d demanded a rain check.
He didn’t think Mitch was right for her. His opinion was clouded by his own desire, of course, but now he was more certain than ever. Their chemistry was off the charts. He knew she’d felt it. She’d tried to unbuckle his belt. He could have had her right then. They’d both been primed and ready. Danger had heightened their emotions, exposing the attraction between them. It hadn’t created the heat, just the intensity.
Even so, she clearly still had feelings for Mitch. Josh should back off. Give her the space she needed to figure things out.
He didn’t want to, though. He wanted to finish what they’d started. He wanted her wet and hot and trembling. Legs spread, bare tits against his chest, nails digging into his shoulders. Lips parted in ecstasy as she came.
He tore his gaze away from her, willing his cock not to get hard again. They were almost to the loading dock. It would be awkward to jump out of the tram car with a boner. Bambang might be there, ready to bite any protruding body part.
Josh didn’t see the Komodo dragon in the station. He exited the car first and turned off the generator. Then Helena handed him the meat and stepped out with the rope. “If Bam comes at us, throw it down,” she said. “He’s probably just hungry.”
They didn’t encounter the Komodo dragon on their way to the truck. He set the meat down in the back, and they retrieved a portable crate from the storage yard. It was a large, heavy-duty cage with steel bars.
“Do you think we can dart Zuma the same way?” he asked.
“I doubt it. She’s sneakier than Tau, and she probably knows what happened to him.” Mulling it over, she said, “Let’s drug the meat and leave it by his cage. She might come to investigate tonight, when she thinks the coast is clear.”
“Good plan,” he said, impressed by her strategy. Maybe it took one fierce, cunning female to catch another.
They stopped by the hospital for the appropriate narcotics and continued to the lion enclosure. This was the riskiest part of the plan. They had to leave the safety of the truck, carry the crate to Tau and shove him in it. He was a huge animal, so it wouldn’t be easy. They would also be vulnerable to attack, should Zuma decide to interfere.
Josh parked at the rift in the road and got out with the rifle. He helped Helena unload the crate and carry it past the broken section of asphalt. Then he stood guard while she retrieved a burlap blanket and the hunk of meat from the back end of the truck, placing both on top of the crate. She wheeled the crate the short distance to the sleeping lion.
Tau had looked big from a distance. Up close, he was a monster. His head was enormous. His furry neck appeared larger than the circle of Josh’s arms. Josh didn’t want to get anywhere near this massive beast. He glanced around for Zuma with his rifle poised, blood pumping with adrenaline.
“How are we going to get him in the crate?” he asked in a shaky voice.
Helena didn’t seem afraid of Tau. But she’d always been fearless—on the ground. “It won’t be easy,” she said. Setting the meat aside, she bent to adjust the crate’s wheels, securing it in place. Then she opened the gate and grabbed the burlap blanket, spreading it out next to Tau. “We have to roll him over and drag him inside.”
She grabbed the big cat by the scruff like a kitten. Josh lowered the rifle and crouched down to take the other end. Tau didn’t object to their clumsy efforts. When the lion was in the middle of the blanket, tongue lolling out, Josh lifted his side. Helena backed into the crate, crab-walking. It wasn’t easy to move four hundred pounds of solid muscle, but she was a very strong woman, and he was no slouch. They managed, inch by inch.
Every second felt like an eternity. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his ears were attuned to the slightest sound. He hoped Zuma wasn’t watching them, waiting for another opportunity to strike.
By the time they were done, he was sweating buckets again. Josh did a clockwork sweep of the area while Helena pulled the burlap free from Tau and crawled out of the crate. She secured the front gate with a padlock.
Josh was ready to hightail it back to the truck, but Helena had other ideas. “Let’s go check on Greg.”
“What?”
“I need to know,” she said quietly. “Maybe we can drag him to shelter. I can’t stand the thought of Bambang getting to him.”
Josh swore under his breath. He knew Komodo dragons ate carrion.
“At the very least, we can cover him up. Please.”
“Fine,” he said, against his better judgment. He’d never been able to say no to women, and this one was his special kryptonite.
They hurried toward the lion enclosure. Josh went first, rifle raised. Helena followed close behind, staying right on his six. They found Greg facedown on the ground, just outside the barrier wall. A section of the wall had crumbled, leaving a wide crack. The keeper had probably been trying to block the escape route when Zuma attacked.
Josh didn’t see any sign of the lioness, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding nearby. There was a storage shed about twenty feet from the crumbled wall. Helena approached the shed, opening the door to check the interior. Her nod indicated it was clear. They crept toward Greg, moving with caution.
Helena laid the blanket on the ground next to him. With Josh’s help, she rolled Greg over. The lion keeper wa
s definitely dead. His skin was gray, dark eyes foggy. There was a circle of dried blood underneath him. Flies crawled in and out of his open mouth.
There was no time for shock, or grief, or even a respectful silence. They dragged Greg the same way they’d dragged Tau. His weight was easier to handle. When they reached the storage shed, she covered his body with the burlap.
Josh stood outside the door, rifle poised.
“Should we pray?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not religious.”
“Neither am I.”
She said something that sounded like “fray-oo” and rose to her feet.
“What does that mean?”
“Peace.”
She shut the door and they walked back to the truck, eyes peeled for Zuma. Josh didn’t relax until they were inside the vehicle again, safe and sound. He hesitated before starting the engine. Helena wasn’t big on sharing feelings, but she looked choked up, and for good reason. Greg had been her immediate supervisor. Maybe even a father figure.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. “About what?”
He didn’t press. He’d done enough of that earlier. She needed someone to do it, to push back at her and engage her emotions. Josh recognized that, even if she didn’t. But a lot of people needed things he couldn’t give them. His niece needed a better father. Josh couldn’t force Lyle to get his act together, and he couldn’t make Helena to open up to him.
It wasn’t his place.
Saying nothing, he did a three-point turnaround and headed back to the front of the park. They hadn’t gone far when she touched his arm.
“Stop here,” she said. “Just for a minute.”
He parked next to the fence to the elephant enclosure, aware that she wanted to check on the herd. They were in an open area at least a hundred yards from the lion enclosure.
Josh figured it was safe enough, as long as they stayed close to the truck, so he didn’t protest when she climbed out. He just followed her.
The fence was made of sturdy blonde wood, smooth and polished. The posts were gripped by thousands of hands every day. Beyond this fence lay electric wires, currently not charged, and a dry moat. Both kept elephants in and humans out. Even the keepers had very little contact with the animals. The wildlife park wasn’t a circus. The elephants didn’t perform tricks for an audience or give rides to children.
The herd looked happy enough, though. They had a whole pond full of water, and some leftover hay. He followed Helena’s gaze to Mbali, the herd’s most recent addition. Josh had to admit, baby elephants were cute.
“Mbali’s getting big,” he said. “How old is she now?”
“Fourteen months.”
“Do you ever wish you could get closer to them?”
“I get close to trim their feet,” she said. “Sometimes they reach out with their trunks and touch my hand.”
“But the bars are always there.”
“Yes.”
“Why is that?”
“Because they kill people. More keepers have been killed by elephants than by any other wild animal.”
“Even lions?”
“Lions, tigers and bears combined.”
He hadn’t known that. “They look so gentle.”
“They are, most of the time. But it only takes once. They’re like great white sharks. An exploratory bite is often fatal. Same with a careless swing of the trunk.”
Glancing around for Zuma, he pondered her words. As friendly as the elephants appeared, he wasn’t eager to climb into their enclosure. But he surfed in the Pacific Ocean with sharks almost every day. He just couldn’t see them.
“They kill on purpose, too,” she said. “They’re temperamental.”
“In the wild, or in captivity?”
“Both. Anyone in close contact is at risk. They need space to roam and distance from people. Greg always taught us not to project our emotions onto them or build unhealthy attachments. Too much human interference is damaging for animals. It can create a whole slew of problems, including species confusion. There are documented cases of chimps that seem to think they’re people and won’t take mates.”
“Really?”
She nodded, still staring at Mbali. “And when you treat them like family members instead of wild animals, you stop believing they’re capable of crushing you.”
This pragmatic approach wasn’t an unusual attitude for a keeper, in his experience. Helena wasn’t a “bunny hugger,” to borrow Louis’s term. And yet, Josh still found it sad. He could see very clearly that she loved these elephants. Maybe it was foolish to imagine that they returned her feelings.
As if on cue, Mbali noticed Helena standing there. She trumpeted in greeting, running closer to the fence line. She raced back and forth, her trunk curled up jauntily. Then she scampered back to her mother.
Helena’s face crumpled at the display. She pressed the back of her hand to her nose. So much for maintaining an emotional distance.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a bunny hugger,” Josh said.
She shook her head in denial.
“A deeply closeted bunny hugger.”
“It’s professional pride,” she insisted, blinking the tears away. “Successful elephant births are rare in captivity.”
“Why is that?”
“The mating process is difficult, for one.”
“I’ll bet. I’ve seen Obi’s penis.”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “Males don’t actually penetrate the female during sex.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. The vaginal opening is too small, and it’s kind of hard to get to.”
“How do they mate, then?”
“There’s a lot of rubbing and mounting involved. Then he sprays semen into her, like a fire hose.”
He shook his head in wonder. “Wow.”
“It can take years to conceive. The gestation period is long and the birth has to be carefully monitored. Sometimes mother elephants panic and trample their young. Calves have a high mortality rate.” Her expression grew troubled. “The first few months were very stressful. I was here around the clock.”
“I remember.”
She glanced at him in surprise. He’d always watched her from afar. He noticed when she was having a hard time. She’d lost weight after Mbali was born. He’d wondered if there was something going on in her personal life.
Her gaze became shuttered. “We should go.”
They drove back to the front of the park and entered the staff building in silence. It was past noon. Despite the disturbing events of the morning, he was hungry. “Have a seat,” he said. “I’ll forage for food.”
She sank into a chair, burying her head in her hands.
He visited the men’s room and washed up with bottled water. There were stocked vending machines all over the park, so they wouldn’t run out of food or drinks. Instead of relying on snacks, he searched the kitchen for a real meal. He found some apples and several cans of tuna in oil. Grabbing both, along with a couple of forks, he returned to Helena. She glanced up when he set the items in front of her.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
She regarded the food without much interest.
“Do you want a soda?”
“No.”
There was already water on the table. He took a seat and opened a bottle, drinking in thirsty gulps. She murmured something about the restroom and walked down the hall.
Josh popped open one of the cans of tuna and dug in. It was bland, but edible. He alternated between forkfuls and crisp bites of apple.
When Helena came back and sat down again, she seemed distant. She opened a can and chewed methodically. He pictured the way she’d looked at the elephant yard, her eyes vibrant. She had a different energy with animals. She’d always been passionate about her work, whether she was assisting a birth or describing the mechanics of pachyderm sex. Now she was quiet and
withdrawn, avoiding his gaze.
He figured that she was uncomfortable for several reasons. Greg’s death. The close call on the Skylift. Their tawdry make-out session. He couldn’t help with the first two, but maybe he could put her mind at ease about the last.
“You don’t have to worry about me making a move on you,” he said, finishing his apple. “I can control myself.”
Her mouth twisted at those words. He hadn’t meant to offend her by suggesting that she was out of control. Sure, she’d lost her grip for a moment. It had been the most erotic moment of his life, and he’d participated with relish, so who was he to judge? He loved the fact that she’d gotten carried away. She should get carried away more often.
He drummed his fingertips against the edge of the table. “I won’t touch you again. Unless you ask me to.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I won’t tell anyone what happened, either.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she said, eyes flashing.
Her capacity for denial was astonishing. Strong woman, strong delusions. “Is Mitch coming back?”
She tilted the can of tuna to search its contents. It was empty.
He hoped she wasn’t thinking about leaving. This job was her entire world. After what he’d seen between her and Mbali, relocation would be a heartbreaking option. “When you get tired of waiting for him, I’ll be here.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Aren’t there any more tourists or college girls you can sleep with?”
“I’m sure there are a few.”
She gave him a pointed glance.
“Maybe I’m ready to settle down.”
“You’re just bored with easy pickings,” she said. “Women fall at your feet, so you’re chasing after the ones you can’t have.”
“The hell I am.”
“Melody?”
“I didn’t chase after Melody.”
She took a sip of water, shrugging. “Whatever you say.”
Josh tamped down his annoyance. He knew what she was doing. She didn’t like showing emotions or needing anyone. She was afraid of letting him in. “I’m not chasing after you, either. Didn’t I say I’d back off?”
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