Liars and Tigers (3 page)

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 what 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.

"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 w
as
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.