There was a kiddie pool filled with fresh water in one corner and she could see a number of “toys” scattered about. A couple of scarred wooden logs, some sturdy rubber balls, and a few old tires were visible through the slats.
Pulse racing, mouth dry, Shay crept along the edge of the enclosure, trying to catch a glimpse of its inhabitant. Her eyes were drawn to a square-shaped flap covering the lower half of the house’s back door.
Good God. The beast had the run of the house, too!
When the cat came into her line of sight, Shay froze in place, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling in awareness. He was at least as big as Hamlet, if not bigger. Muscles bunched beneath his dun-colored coat. The cage seemed to shrink in his presence.
Betty was standing on the other side of the chain-link fence. The entrance to the enclosure and the back gate were both wide open. “Run, you stupid cat!” Screaming her frustration, she prodded him with a steel bar while he spat and hissed. “Run!”
Holy
“Don’t,” she said, finding her voice. “Don’t do this, Betty!”
With another sinister howl, the lion turned his massive head in Shay’s direction. When his gray-green eyes met hers, she gulped and took a step back, her heart beating so fast she could hear it thundering in her ears.
“I won’t let you take him,” Betty said, her face ravaged by grief. “He didn’t mean to kill Yesenia. We were only trying to scare her, but Kato got too excited. She started screaming and he pounced. By the time I pried his jaw open, it was too late.”
Shay didn’t know what to say. Betty seemed on the cusp of madness. She had, after all, just bashed her over the head.
“He’s never hurt anyone before,” Betty said. “He was only playing.”
Shay realized that the woman was trying to save the lion’s life, not send him out on another rampage, and she felt a pang of sympathy for her. Shay knew what it was like to lose a beloved friend. Hamlet had been sacrificed unnecessarily, and now Kato would have to be put down as well.
She hated it when animals suffered because of human carelessness.
The circumstances were sad, but Shay couldn’t let Betty free a killer lion. “He can go to a rescue facility,” she lied. Kato wouldn’t be allowed to live, not even in captivity. “He’ll be put somewhere safe and secure.”
Betty let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head. “He can take his chances in the desert.”
Shay scrambled forward, trying to avert a disaster of epic proportions. “No, Betty,” she said. “He’ll never survive-”
But she was too late. Betty had already entered the cage.
Gasping, Shay stopped in her tracks. No telling what the lion would do.
When he didn’t do anything, Betty pointed at the chaparral-covered hills in the distance and waved her hands in frustration. “Go on,” she said, gripping the chain links and rattling the fence. “Be free!”
Shay’s eyes darted from the open gate to the stationary lion. She knew better than to make any sudden moves around a predatory cat. But what else could she do?
Betty grabbed the animal by the scruff of his neck, trying to force him out. He roared a protest. She didn’t listen.
“Oh, Jesus,” Shay whimpered, almost too afraid to watch. The cat was going to attack Betty and there was nothing Shay could do about it. With trembling fingers, she reached into her front pocket, closing her fingers around Dylan’s hunting knife.
When Betty yelled and pulled on the cat’s scruff again, he snapped. In a flash, Betty was stretched out on the ground with the lion’s jaws closed around her neck. There was a sickening sound, like a wet crunch, as he applied pressure. Horrified, Shay stumbled toward the gate. Now that the cat was preoccupied, she had the chance to shut him in.
But if she didn’t intervene, Betty would surely die.
It was one of those life-altering moments. Shay had always wondered what she would do in this kind of situation, if she would risk herself to save someone else. Only for Dylan, she’d have said before. And so it was with no small amount of surprise that she found herself rushing to Betty’s aid after a short hesitation.
The lion had a death hold on Betty’s neck. His jaws were locked; her body was limp. It might be too late already, but Shay picked up a tire and heaved it at him, her head throbbing with pain. Panting from exertion, she dumped a bucket of cold water over the tangled pair. She tried to knock him loose with a block of wood.
He wouldn’t budge.
Betty’s blood slicked the concrete beneath them.
With nothing left to do but join the fray, Shay extended the knife, gripping it in her white-knuckled hand. Making a strange, feral sound, she sank the blade into his neck, going for the carotid artery.
She missed.
The lion released Betty and let out an earsplitting howl. Screaming, Shay fell away from him, her hands and feet seeking purchase in the slippery mess.
He turned on her and roared, his jaws wet with blood.
Shay’s entire life flashed before her eyes. And the world exploded into chaos.
27
Getting on that bus was probably the stupidest thing Angel had ever done. Getting off it in favor of being stranded at a deserted rest stop wasn’t too smart, either.
At the bus station, she’d watched Deputy Snell tackle Dylan and wrestle him to the ground. She’d wanted to scream Dylan’s name, to tell the bus driver to stop and let her out, to pull at Snell’s hair and kick him in the ribs. Instead she’d just sat there, frozen to her seat, weeping silently.
That was what she did for the next three hours.
It finally occurred to her that by leaving for Vegas, she wasn’t taking charge of her life. She was allowing the past to overwhelm her. Nor was she helping her brothers and sister by abandoning them, just as their mother had done, and perpetuating a vicious cycle.
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen that until now.
The truth was, she’d been going half-mad since Christmas. Finding out about her mother’s new baby had brought her to an all-time low, and the horrible experience with Chad had taken her even lower. Instead of dealing with her feelings, she’d repressed them, pretending everything was fine.
Besides Dylan, she hadn’t told anyone what happened. Her boy-crazy best friend thought Chad was cute; she’d have squealed with delight and asked for a play-by-play. And how could a girl talk to her own father about sex? That was just… unnatural.
So Angel had kept every detail of the encounter to herself, from Chad’s whisky-laced breath and sloppy kisses to his rough hands and crude technique.
Dylan may not have known what he was doing in the bedroom, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in sensitivity. And eagerness to learn. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him he’d been way better than Chad. With Dylan, she’d wanted it to last forever. With Chad, she’d prayed it would be over as soon as possible.
Dylan had tried to take his time. He’d attempted to make it good for her.
Chad hadn’t cared. In fact, he seemed to take pleasure in hurting her, and after it was over, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. He’d used her and discarded her like trash. Like a wadded-up Kleenex he’d ejaculated into. It wasn’t as if she wanted to spend any more time with him, but coming on the heels of her mother’s latest rejection, his casual disposal of her virginity had been devastating.
Angel had vowed not to waste any tears on Chad, who was a bad kisser, a poor student, and a miserable excuse for a human being. And she hadn’t. She’d refused to think about their hookup altogether until she saw him again at the Graveyard. When he first spotted her, a sly look had passed over his face. He was stinking drunk by the time he approached her, his manner as rude and arrogant as ever.
She knew he’d goaded Travis into hitting on her. She also suspected he’d enjoyed watching his friend hold her
