Page 33 of Fall
He taps her chin with his knuckles and quickly side steps out of the way. “It’s great to see you again.” He smiles at her and then looks right at me with the same quirk to his lips. “You just missed Jackson. He’s collecting supplies from the arranged drop off point. He won’t be long. I can call him if you think the cub needs medical assistance.”
“No. It’s fine.” I shake my head. There’s two of us. Iris and I. A third person will only get in the way. “We’ll assess his wounds, and if he needs stitches, Jackson can take over.”
I stalk past him, with Iris following behind. The din coming from the soles of her boots echoes in the empty corridor. It’s a steady beat to vex my reclusive tendencies and offer companionship over solitude.
My slamming heart bucks away from the echo of togetherness. “In here.” I kick the half-open door and march in. Astringent antiseptic odors hit my senses, snapping me out of the fog. The hygienic treatment room is well presented with orderly shelves and organized equipment. White walls are a bright contrast to the earthy tropic of the outdoors.
Laying the cub on the hydraulic operating table, I hold my tee over its sleepy form while Iris clicks on the surgical light hanging from a long arm. A burst of halogen highlights blood-soaked material. My stomach swoops when Iris tries to hide a gasp, knowing it doesn’t look good.
She darts from cabinet to locker, gathering sterile scissors, pads, disposable gloves and a clear solution. “Can you hold him while I clean up the blood and see where it’s coming from?” Her eyebrow cocks when she shoots me an apprehensive glance.
I nod, offering a tight smile.
“Be careful he doesn’t bite you,” she says with a breathy warning. Like I give a fuck if it snaps at me; it’s her I’m protecting from its razor-sharp teeth.
She places the supplies on a metal table and wheels it to the bed. Tucking messy curls behind her ear, she inhales deeply before strategically lifting up the fabric.
Congealed golden fur died scarlet, edges a superficial scrape which would cause discomfort. All the blood makes it look worse than it probably is, but I don’t comfort her with possible lies. Instead, I let her take the lead and obey her instructions.
I pin the cub by its neck and cuff its hind legs, then watch her work. A thin crease lines her forehead, and those intense black magic lashes of hers flutter as she wipes around matted fur. Bloodied gauze is replaced repeatedly, and then she dabs her brow with the back of her hand. She’ll make the perfect mother one day. Another reason we’re incompatible. Where kindness and forgiveness weaves through her soul, those qualities are blackened and charred within mine. I did the right thing, ordering Jackson to put an end to my bloodline. I’ll never father a child and that’s the right choice for me.
“It’s a bleeder for sure.” Her eyes find mine fused to her face, lost in thought. She stares back quietly, searching for something. My green eyes to her coffee rich brown.
“You’re doing a good job,” I reassure, noting her swallow. “Is it deep enough to need stitches?”
Her eyes fall to the slice on the cub. “I don’t think so. A dressing and a bandage should do the trick.”
Regrets snares me again. This is not how I expected my day to go. If anything, I hoped to put as much distance between both of us as possible. Now, I am standing before her with a bruised heart, falling for her as she nurses a damn injured animal.
A frail cub without the energy left to fight. He looks starved of love, and no more than six-months old. And worse still, her sexy Scottish pitch purrs reassurance of a healthy future, soothing the patient like they will spend an eternity together.
Yet the jaguar will return to the wild. El Fantasma will fall back in line. I will store Iris in the empty abyss, where happiness languishes beneath my quest for bloodshed. Equilibrium will be restored, and her havoc will gradually diminish.
I lay my hand over hers as it rests on the bed for support. I’m so lost. The warmth of her skin reaches inside me, coaxing me to lean in. Those messy coconut essence curls will always entice me. I’ve lost count of the drowning thoughts I sank into night after night, all alone. Imagining her mouth on mine. Our bodies intertwined. And now I’ve experienced what it’s really like to have her in my bed. It’s heaven. No matter how much effort I muster, the impulse to kiss her overpowers my control, which makes this my living hell.
“Thanks for helping him,” she says softly, surprising me with a bold smile. “I knew you had a big old heart in there somewhere.”
She slides her hand free and takes a shuddered breath. I eye her closely as she packs the cut and wraps a crepe bandage around the cub’s rib cage. Once she’s finished, the latex gloves come off and get tossed in the waste disposal bin.
Lowering her face to the drowsy jaguar, she whispers, “You’ll be okay, Laoch. Tomorrow you’ll go home.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“Releasing him?” She unfolds and straightens her spine.
“No, keeping him for the night. The longer you keep him in captivity, with human interaction, the more domesticated he’ll become. He won’t stand a chance of survival then.” I’m undecided if the statement was aimed at her, or at myself. Either way, she slams her hands on her hips meaning business.
“One night. And then I’ll set him free. I’ve been in captivity for weeks now and that hasn’t changed me, right?” She hesitates. “I’ll survive in my homeland because I’ve got brave Scottish blood coursing through my veins. He’s a fighter too. After a hearty meal, he’ll be ready. You’re the one who chooses to be alone; the rest of us don’t have to be the same.”
Our eyes clash. “I’d rather live by myself knowing I’ve served justice. I won’t let anyone get in the way of that. Not even you.” I grit my teeth and resist the hiss of anger.
Iris swallows. “Even if that means you’ll miss out on living your own life?” The cub fusses a little, mewling with pain. “It’s okay, Laoch.” She breaks our standoff and looks down. Soft strokes on his small head are teamed with her soothing voice like silk.
I never wanted to suffocate under the violent storm within me. The Oasis is a temporary destination for criminals. Eventually becoming a safe place for both men and women who’ve been wronged, destroyed by lies or framed for a crime they didn’t commit.
Together, Jackson and I have spent years mastering the craft of rebirth. With each passing day, I failed to consider what would happen after I wiped the last life out. Once retribution was no longer an act to immerse in.
I hadn’t given it any thought until Iris arrived, and now, I’m left wondering if I’ll choose the same route as my shady clients and create a new life for myself. Or if that’s even possible.
