Liars and Tigers Page 2

  "Cary and Cory will always be your children. You need to allow yourself the chance to find a gal who will share your love for your kids, even the four-footed ones. Alex, hear me out. Your passion for this work is unmatched by anyone I have ever known. Anyone, except Misha. What she has in her heart burns brighter than all of ours put together. Her passion will bring life to you again. Please, give her a chance. Put down the hunting gear and come to her as a man. Bring her flowers. Or better yet, dark chocolate-covered macadamia nuts."

  "Jack, you're a foolish old romantic. I am not going to date her! The last thing I need in my life right now is a woman, especially one who wants to castrate me every chance she gets. I need to focus on my goals, keep these animals alive and healthy, and try to prepare them to enter their natural habitat if they can. That's my love and my life. There is no room for anything else. She is simply a means to help me accomplish my goals, nothing more."

  "Then why are you on the hunt?" Jack confronted him.

  Alex looked straight at him. "There is no hunt. I am being logical and seeking a means to protect my investments. Misha Miller is a valuable commodity to this facility, nothing more."

  "You are a lot of things, old friend, but you are not a liar. You are attracted to her, like a bee to honey. The passion she possesses calls to you, and you know it. Her refusal of your advances makes you want her more because you hate being rejected. Just admit that you desire her as a woman, not just as a coworker. Both of you will be much happier if you stop denying this spark that you share."

  "You are delusional, Jack. True, the carnal part of my nature wants to have her. She's beautiful, intelligent and fearless. To me, she is like the elusive mythological beast that every hunter in the world wants to claim as his own."

  "You can't fool me for a minute. I know what you want, and you are terrified of pursuing it. You're afraid that being kind and gentle will portray you as being weak. Misha is not a Sasquatch, the Loch Ness monster, or any other legendary creature. She's a human being and deserves respect. I love that little girl, Alex. Don't you go hurting her. I have had to help her pick up the pieces from her broken life once before, and I don't want to have to do that again. Not even for you."

  "That is not my intent. I promise," Alex said quietly. "I only want the best for her."

  Jack said nothing. He instinctively knew that Alex would be the best thing for his little Misha. He had seen the firework display between his old friend and the adorable little scientist replay over the last couple of years. They would be a great match, provided they didn't kill each other. He still didn't like Alex's plan however; it needed some serious tweaking to work…

  ***

  Misha sighed after succeeding in getting less than an ounce of liquid into the little cub. He had refused the specially formulated paste used for abandoned domestic kittens, yet had shown interest in the persimmon jam she had put on her finger. He licked that from her with diligence, but the sweet preserves were not enough to sustain his life. He needed protein. How could she get him to take it if he would not drink from a bottle or use the edge of a washcloth soaked in the formula?

  Misha decided to name him Rodin after her favorite sculptor. She had always had a connection to the talented artist and his unique ability to model a complex and turbulent structure out of a simple mass of clay. Like her artistic idol, Misha fought to depart from the ways of tradition, and invited controversy in how she approached her work, including her attempt to show the world that life required more than just accepting things as they are. She rocked the little cub warmly, shutting her eyes. She refused to accept any possibility of his demise and would do whatever it took to help him survive. No price was too great to save this little life in her arms.

  Banging on her door jarred her awake a mere two hours later. "Who is it?" she asked groggily.

  "Your landlord, woman!" the man shouted. "Open this door immediately!"

  "Fuck. You woke me up, you jerk!" Misha shouted, as she placed the sleeping cub under her bed. She opened the door, keeping the chain in place. "What do you want? Rent isn't due for two more weeks."

  "Surprise inspection."

  "Surprise? You've been coming to bother me at nine o'clock every night for the past two weeks. And each time you have woken me from a good night's sleep! You do know that this is illegal, don't you?" she growled, stepping aside as he pushed his way in.

  "Most people don't fall asleep in their work clothes if they actually planned on sleeping," he snarled, walking through the small trailer and opening doors. Riggins looked disappointed when his quick glance around produced no findings.

  "If you think I'm going to answer the door in my nightie, you are sadly mistaken. There is nothing here, so get the fuck out of my face."

  "I know you are going to try to hide something here eventually." His sour breath turned her stomach. "When I catch you, you will be out on the street. Unless, of course, you beg me to let you stay."

  Misha snarled. "You are a complete and utter troll. I would live on the street before I would beg anything from you, you scumbag. Touch me once, and I swear I will blow off that measly little cock of yours and feed it to my lions. Go on, try it!"

  "Watch yourself, girl. If you don't start seeing things my way, you might not have a place to come home to with this attitude," he threatened. "It would be terrible for everything you own to go up in smoke, wouldn't it? Especially if you are hiding something alive in here." With a sardonic laugh, he departed.

  Misha took a deep breath, thankful that Rodin was not big enough yet to make noise, let alone climb out of his box. She pulled the box from its hiding place, sat on her bed and held the kit in her arms. She kissed his fuzzy head and nuzzled his face with her nose. "How about if you get big enough to eat that asshole first? I know I would enjoy watching that. You need to live, baby. I need you to live," she whispered, tears dripping down her cheeks. The tiny cub's tongue tickled the salty wetness and, for the first time in days, Misha felt true hope.

  Misha's cell phone rang early the next morning. She had been up most of the night, trying to force feed the cub—with little success. He had vomited the contents of the formula up four times, but at least showed a continued interest in eating the jam off her fingers. Yawning, she picked up. "Yeah, Jack? What do you want?"

  "You sound like shit. How's the baby?"

  "He had another tough night, but made it through. Fuckin' landlord came knocking at nine o'clock on the dot. Forced himself inside this time, and let me know of his plans to see me beg. He even warned me that I might not have a home to come to one day if I didn't see things his way! Threatened to burn down the place and, I quote, 'anything alive I might be hiding in it.' I don't know what I'm going to do," Misha said with frustration. She was exhausted, fearful for Rodin's life, and was now facing either losing her home, or being mauled by a sick, twisted landlord.

  Jack chose his words carefully. He did not want to repeat any of the warnings she might have heard from Alex in his previous attempts to make her leave the trailer. "I would hate to have him find the kit, and then give you more reason to be pissed. You are a force to reckon with, but you can't be there 24/7 to protect your belongings. You will always be stressed out, not knowing what you will find when you come home from work. He already messes with your sleep. Is he crazy enough to set the place on fire with you in it? There is always the fact that you can't risk ever leaving the kit unattended, even for few hours."

  "You're right. I just hate the thought of dipping into the savings that I've set aside to buy my own ranch. I don't want to return to the facility's dorms, either. I need my privacy, and there is too much activity for me to regroup there."

  "Have you thought about looking elsewhere in the county? There are plenty of other places where you'd have more privacy. Maybe in Fallbrook."

  "I checked out Fallbrook before. You went with me, remember? It's gorgeous out there, but too expensive. I really need to save so that I can buy a ranch of my own where no one can tell me wha
t to do. This place is cheap, and I can save enough each month for a down payment. I just need to put up with the crap another year. I'll get renter's insurance and make sure that Rodin stays hidden. I can shop for groceries during my lunch break and never have to leave the house."

  "Living there is not providing you the privacy you need, or the freedom. It's cheap because that jerk has a rep of being a scumbag and can't get any other fool to move in and pay for his beer. You know he's trying to find a way to get into your pants. Mish, please, let's find you somewhere else to live."

  "Why are you calling?" Misha asked impatiently, trying to get Rodin to take in some water.

  Jack cleared his throat. "I had an idea to help that cub; but, you aren't going to like it."

  "I rarely like your ideas. The only one that hasn't bitten me in the ass is the one to take this little one home with me." She smiled, massaging Rodin's gums with her finger to stimulate his salivary glands.

  Jack cringed. That had been Alex's idea, not his, but he did not dare make that confession. "Yeah, well, you will like this one even less, but it's worth a try. I have a nursing mastiff available. The owner has agreed to allow the kit to try nursing off her."

  "You want the dog to adopt a tiger cub? Is this her first litter? That would be a problem. Mastiffs are very territorial of their pups, and first time bitches will kill anything that comes near them if they perceive a threat."

  "This is her second litter, and she is accustomed to being around other animals. She only had two pups this time and she's full. It can't hurt to try, right?"

  "Not at all, I think it's a great idea. Why would I hate it?"

  "The dog belongs to Alex."

  There was a dead silence. "You mother fucker…" Misha growled. She was trapped. "You knew damn well I wouldn't refuse anything that might help this cub. You bastard!"

  "You still love me, right?"

  "Did that SOB put you up to this? I'll bet anything he did! Son of a…"

  "Mish, chill. We all want the cub to survive, right? You said yourself it was a good idea. Let's give it a chance, okay?"

  "You know damn well that I will not allow the cub to nurse unsupervised, and that I certainly would never leave him alone with that arrogant jerk boss of ours! How is that going to work? I can't bring the dog and her pups here," Misha raged, throwing a shoe across the room angrily as she paced the floor. "Damn you, Jack!"

  "He has offered to allow you to stay at his place. He has room and…"

  "What? Unbelievable! Are you actually suggesting that I stay there until the cub is weaned? That will take weeks! I swear, I'm going to kill you for this. And when I am done with you, I am going after that despicable bastard. You know how much I loathe Alex Hodges' very existence, and to use this helpless baby to force us together is, is… oh!" Misha yelled, unable to find the words to express her anger.

  "Just think about it, okay? Before it's too late to help him. This offer is to save the cub, not you. Love ya, Tiger," Jack said, hanging up the phone before he received another earful of Misha's opinions of him.

  Misha was beside herself with anger. Jack was a consummate gambler and knew which card to play, and by golly, the old man played it well. "We just added another name to your food list, Rodin. What choice do I have? My pride and independence, or your life? Both of those fools knew exactly which one I would chose. Fuck!"

  Misha began throwing her clothes and some toiletries into her large backpack, muttering obscenities the entire time. The tiger cub lifted his blind eyes in her direction as he released a wide-jawed yawn, and then nuzzled his little nose under his tiny tail to curl into a tight little ball. Misha paused to run her finger down the length of his back, smiling slightly as he turned onto his side and exposed his soft belly to her. "I wish I could trust so freely. Come on, let's see if we can do this. Just a word of warning, though. You'll owe me big time if you survive, kitty."

  Misha glanced nervously about the property as she loaded her backpack and the box containing Rodin into her truck. She could see Riggins in the distance, his hands on his hips and watching her every move as she climbed into the vehicle. She waved with a forced smile as she placed her seatbelt over her shoulder and started the engine. Reluctantly, Misha had to admit that Jack was right on both accounts. The issue with her landlord was out of control, and the mastiff might be the only means to keep Rodin alive. Was her pride and independence worth risking both the cub's life and her own? No.

  Chapter 3

  "I swear, Alex, she sounded like she was going to skin me alive. I'm begging you, for my sake, don't antagonize her!" Jack said, after speaking with Misha.

  Alex laughed. "That woman can't be more than five foot, three inches tall, and weighs less than a bag of groceries. Why are you so afraid of her?"

  "Have you ever seen her aim? She's deadly." Jack shuddered. "Listen, Boss, I gotta work with the chit. Give me a break, okay? For old time's sake. I did pull that venom out of your leg…"

  "I have paid you back for saving my life more times than I can count. When are you going to give it a rest?" Alex laughed.

  Jack shrugged. "When I'm dead and buried. Maybe. Promise me you will try to be courteous. If not, I will hear the nagging until I want to kill you myself."

  "Okay! I promise. When will she get here?"

  "I'm betting she left shortly after the call. She would have needed time to pack, swear, and kick the walls a few times, so I am guessing she will get here in about thirty minutes or so. Act surprised, and nice, when she arrives."

  "Are you going somewhere?"

  "I sure as hell am not going to be in her range of destruction when she shows up, as fired up as she is. I'm not a fool." Jack chuckled. "I believe in self-preservation."

  "I can't imagine why anyone would be scare of that little piece of a girl. Go on," Alex grinned, "run and hide. I'm gonna get changed before she gets here. I'll let you know how it goes."

  "If you survive. Tread lightly, old friend. You have met your match with this one."

  Jack's words reflected in Alex's mind as he slipped on some old jeans and a snug t-shirt. You have met your match with this one, he repeated silently with a smile. He glanced at himself in the mirror, startled to see a younger version of his sixty-two-year-old father staring back. He had inherited some good genes, Alex had just turned thirty-nine, and was pleased to see that his physique hadn't changed much since his military service days. He still ran daily and lifted weights to keep in shape, padding his large frame with layers of hard, toned muscles. No gray had yet touched his temples (although, with Misha around, he wondered how soon that would change) and his unruly, thick, dark brown hair continued to refuse to comply with a brush. He had a deep tan from working outside and hazel eyes that matched those of his cat, Selma. His boyish charm was complete with an elusive dimple on his right cheek.

  Barking alerted him to Misha's arrival. His Old English mastiff, Kena, raced excitedly to his side, letting him know he had company. "That's a good girl," he praised the huge animal, hugging her broad neck and landing a kiss on her sagging jowls. "You have a face only a daddy could love. You're gonna help me, right? We want to keep little Misha and her cub safe. They are both very special, and I will need your help. Go to your babies and stay."

  Kena joyfully wagged her tail, reminding him of an overgrown puppy the size of a small horse, and quickly obeyed as though she understood Alex's words. Alex chuckled, wondering if he could train Misha to be as well behaved. Probably not. The dog at least appreciated his efforts to take care of her. And she respected him. Misha did neither.

  Alex opened the front door, feigning surprise when he saw Misha with her little bundle in her arms. "Miss Miller? To what do I owe this pleasure?"

  "Give it a rest, Alex. You know why I'm here. And don't tell me that you didn't conjure up this whole pathetic thing to interfere in my life again," Misha said scornfully, pushing her way past him. He watched her enter with amusement, wanting desperately to both land a sound swat to her tiny khaki
covered bottom, and hug her.

  "I guess manners don't have any place in your behavior, otherwise you would have waited until I invited you in," he said bluntly.

  "I'm only interested in saving this cub's life. Where's your bitch?" Misha asked coldly, trying not to stare at the opulent surroundings.

  "Kena is in her room with her puppies," he answered back flatly, eyes narrowed. Why would it bother him for Kena to be referred to as a bitch? At least she was not the type of bitch that Misha was. He turned to walk down the hall toward the den.

  "She has her own room?" Misha sounded surprised, following him.

  Alex nodded without looking back at her. "Sure, why not? I have eight bedrooms in this house, why shouldn't my best friend get one of them?"

  Misha paused mid-step to stare silently at him, and then jogged to catch up, barely able to keep up with his long strides. He stopped at a wide doorway that was blocked with a baby gate. The huge, fawn-colored mastiff rose slowly to carefully detach herself from her puppies, and greeted them with a wagging tail. Alex stepped over the gate and sat on the floor. Kena promptly sat on his lap.

  "Misha, this is Kena. She thinks she is a Chihuahua. Kena, this is my friend, Misha," he introduced the huge animal. Misha couldn't help but grin at the long string of drool stuck to his face. Alex sighed, pulling out a cloth as he stood. "Can't go anywhere without spit rags when you have mastiffs. Come in and meet her. I'll hold the baby."

  He held his arms out for the little cub and helped Misha step over the gate. He watched as she confidently walked to the center of the room and sat on the floor with her back to both the door, the large dog and the new litter of puppies. Kena tilted her head and started sniffing the girl, leaving trails of gooey spit in her hair. She finally came around to the front and promptly sat on Misha's lap.

  Instead of complaining about the 250 pounds of dog flesh crushing her, Misha simply started scratching the barrel-sized chest of the animal. She found the 'spot' and Kena flopped with her table-sized back into the woman's arms, plopping her basketball-sized head on Misha's right shoulder. The action, plus the dog's weight, caused Misha to lose balance and fall backward on the floor. Pressed with her back flat to the ground and weighed down by an enormous dog, whose legs were splayed wide and who was blatantly demanding a tummy rub, Misha broke out into a loud bout of laughter.