Torn (Lords of the City #1) (2 page)

“Amongst Asian elephants, only the males have tusks.”

My stomach sank. “So you’re going to hurt them.”

“With a handgun?” he challenged, his smile as fierce as ever. He was winning the game of wits.

“Then why hide it?” I pressed, my voice rising with the rate of my heart.

A middle-aged couple nearby heard. They glanced at us, curious.

“Friendly fire,” Corey said to them and took my arm, guiding me out of earshot from the rest of the group, behind the shelter of a palm tree. “I’m not a poacher,” he insisted, his body close to mine. The bulge of his arm pressed against my shoulder as I inhaled the raw male scent of sweat on his skin. “I have the gun to protect the herd, not to hurt it.”

“Against what?”

“Actual poachers. A handgun doesn’t frighten an elephant, but it sure scares the hell out of a man.”

My suspicions disappeared, but my questions didn’t. “Are you some sort of jungle police?”

He laughed. It was a careless sound that dragged me in, took me captive. “No. I’m self-employed, so to speak.”

“A vigilante?”

“Of sorts. Asian elephants are endangered, the males hunted for their tusks, something I obviously don’t have to tell you. With the decreasing population, the males are becoming harder for poachers to find. Males don’t usually travel in herds. They travel alone and can be difficult to track.”

“How do you know all this?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I came to Thailand months ago to assist with conservation efforts. I was working on a reserve up until a few weeks ago. There were several herds there, many with young.”

I squinted up at him, trying to understand. “I thought you said the males travel alone. If you want to protect the males, why were you with the herds?”

His eyes grew hard and a muscle popped in his jaw. “The young males. In the middle of the night, a group of fucking poachers stole all the bulls from their mommas. It’s the new way. Steal the males while they’re little and raise them for their ivory.”

“That’s sickening,” I said, disturbed to hear it.

“It is.” I didn’t flinch as he lifted a hand and pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I searched for the missing bulls. I couldn’t find them, but I did come across this herd here, and I’ve been following it ever since, making sure it’s guarded.”

I was struck by his sincerity, the truth of his love for the animals in his eyes. He leaned closer, and my stomach twisted as his thumb traced my lower lip. I pulled away, just an inch, and his hand fell to grip my upper arm.

“You’re like the Batman of the jungle,” I managed to say after a hard swallow.

He laughed again. “Batman didn’t carry a gun, not in the old comics.”

“I like the old comics,” I said, dazed, even more aware of how close Corey was to me. If I leaned forward slightly, his lips would be on mine. I could taste him, and he could taste me.

Sensing my arousal, he ran his hand slowly down my neck and over my shoulder, his callused palm a stark contrast to the softness of my skin. My breath burst out as he reached behind me and pulled my rucksack loose, reclaiming his power.

“I’ll need this back,” he said, taking the gun from the front pocket. “Now that I know your group is no threat to the herd, I can go back into hiding.”

“Why did you put it there in the first place?” I mumbled, irritated that I’d fallen for his deceitful charm.

“I couldn’t walk around with a gun sticking out of the belt of my shorts, could I?”

“Why not? It would save everyone the confusion.”

He flashed his perfect smile at me one last time before heading towards the brush, ready to disappear from where he came. “Don’t look so sad,” he called behind him. “I’ll see you again.”

“What makes you so certain?” I asked, regaining my composure.

“Because I’ll find you, Imogen Clare. You’re too beautiful to wander the jungle alone.” He turned to face me fully. “I’ll protect the herd, and when it’s within safe borders, I’ll protect you.”

***

So you’ve got brains behind those hazel eyes.

I did have brains, and not because of my master’s degree. My real brains came from my grandma. She possessed an intuition that guided her through life, a natural intelligence that made her formidable. She’d given me her strength. It lived on within me. I had to remember that if I was ever around Corey again.

I doubted I would be. Corey had been a fever that caused my blood to ache, but I was far from the jungle now. Sipping a lemongrass mojito beneath the grass roof of an outdoor bar, I gazed out onto the shore where a full moon hung over the sea, pulling the day away and pulling me with it.

I’d be leaving Thailand soon to return to Milwaukee. It was a bittersweet ending to my trip. Amongst the lush valleys and tropical coasts, I’d felt close to my grandma here, as if she were traveling with me, sharing the adventure. When I left, it’d be my final goodbye to her, the woman who’d raised me.

I didn’t know my mother. When I was an infant, she’d left me on my grandma’s doorstep and ran. Neither of us had seen her since, but I didn’t care. I was glad my grandma had been my guardian. We’d had a lot of fun together. She was a real gambler. Every Friday night, she’d bring home a pizza and a fistful of scratch tickets. With a slice of pepperoni in her hand and the TV sputtering in the background, we’d run pennies against the silver on the tickets, celebrating the smallest win with an excited cheer. Those scratch tickets had paid for my trip to Thailand. They had probably paid for my entire education.

I sipped my mojito, enjoying the fresh basil within it, and I vowed to buy a bundle of scratch tickets when I got home.

“You look so sad,” a man said, coming up behind me. My heart raced in anticipation as I turned in my seat, certain it was Corey, but it was the bartender, a round but friendly guy from Canada.

“I’m not sad,” I told him. “Just reminiscing.”

“I’ll get you another,” he said, taking my glass. “On the house, for whoever you’re reminiscing about.”

Maybe I shouldn’t go home. Maybe I should stay right here, in this quiet little corner of Thailand, where bartenders are friendly, and the ocean is musical.

There was really nothing to return home to. All my family was gone. My friends were buried in their work. I’d been able to travel because I was unemployed. Since graduating, I’d failed to land a job.

“Grams was right,” I murmured, the whimsy of three lemongrass mojitos kicking in. “I should have become a truck driver. People always want pineapples delivered. They don’t want an environmentalist telling them what they’re doing wrong.”

“You’re an environmentalist?” Corey asked, taking the seat next to me.

I squinted at him and hiccupped. “Are you a hallucination?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “I’m real.”

Needing proof, I reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling his strength. It wasn’t enough. “Take your shirt off,” I ordered. “I want to see your tattoos. Corey has tattoos.”

Without hesitation, he stood and lifted his T-shirt over his head, then turned in a slow circle. His tattoos were as I remembered them, but there was a patch of gauze over his lower back, near where his rock hard muscles glided into his jeans.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I got new ink. A Hindu elephant.”

“But Thai people are Buddhists.”

He grinned. “Not all of them.”

I hiccupped again. “Does that mean the herd is safe?”

“As safe as they can be,” he assured me.

“Good,” I praised, beaming up at him.

The bartender returned with my mojito and placed it on the bar. “I’ll take that,” Corey said, grabbing it for himself. “You’ve had enough.”

“I’ve only had three,” I protested, reaching for my drink.

“Three will do.” He addressed the bartender. “A sparkling passion fruit to sober her up. Hold the liquor.”

“Add the liquor!” I amended sprightly, throwing my hands in the air. “All of it!”

“I’ll come back later,” the bartender resolved and left.

“He’s not coming back,” I muttered.

Corey laughed. “No, he’s not. Shame. You would have liked the passion fruit.”

I peeked up at him. “How do you know that?”

“Because the day I met you, I could smell the passion on your breath, and I wanted to taste it too.”

“The passion fruit,” I corrected, but Corey only smiled in response.

I sat back in my seat, relaxing into my buzz. “You know, you try to be intimidating with your skulls and fangs tattooed all over you, but I saw how concerned you were for those baby elephants. You
loooove
baby elephants. You wish you could bring them and their whole herd home.”

He downed the mojito and slammed the glass on the table. “Chicago isn’t big enough to hold everything I love. I need the world.”

“You’re from Chicago?” I asked, surprised. “We’re neighbors!”

“Let me guess. You’re a cheesehead, overly polite and impossibly friendly.”

I tapped my head. “There’s no cheese up here. I’m from Milwaukee.”

He leaned in close. I tried not to wither beneath his green eyes. I remained strong, like my grandma taught me.

“What does an environmentalist do in Milwaukee?” he asked.

“Nothing as of now,” I admitted. “There isn’t much work going around. At least none that I can find.”

“Why did you become an environmentalist?”

“Because I can’t drive a truck,” I joked, but Corey remained quietly intense, waiting for me to tell him more. I sighed and went for it. “Because I want to do good with my life. I want to help make things better.”

“I see.” He brushed my hair back, my waves loose and free, and his hand fell to my shoulder. It was heavy, grounding me. “I’ll give your name to Stafford Scientific in Chicago. You’ll have a job soon.”

I rolled the name over in my mind. “Isn’t that a technological firm? Why would they want—?”

“They’ll want you,” he said, squeezing my shoulder, telling me to trust him.

I fell into a momentary silence, the last of the mojitos warming my cheeks. Then I was hit by a thought that returned me to my giddiness. “Hey, you found me,” I said, happy.

“Of course I did,” Corey declared. “You were easy to find. I’m a dragon, Imogen, and you are my gold.”

***

The market was crowded, full of people pushing their way to the umbrella-covered stalls that lined the canals, haggling for their ginger and milk. In the water below, long rectangular boats drifted in the gentle current, baskets full of colorful spices and exotic fruits resting at the feet of those who used staffs to steer, their heads protected from the penetrating sun by woven hats. The day was new, the morning fresh, but the city was alive, a harsh contrast from the peace of the coast.

I searched for Corey. After seeing me safely to my hotel room last night, he’d written a note on the back of my hand that instructed me to meet him here, and he’d left me to sleep off the mojitos, a gentleman despite his hard edges.

I wished he hadn’t been a gentleman. On the walk across the beach to my hotel, I wanted to be seduced, to feel the sand on my back as he entered me, filling me with his goodness…

“Watch it!” a woman scowled, pushing past me in the crowd, her almond eyes painted with thick liner. She looked like she’d just left a club. The night owls and the morning jays were united in the early day.

I stopped next to a stall selling embroidered handbags, and turned my back to the sun, checking the note written on my hand. I was supposed to wait for Corey at the end of the market, beside the column painted neon blue. I was approaching the last of the stalls, but I saw no column, only umbrellas and tables, none of which were painted. Figuring he was mistaken about the column, I went to a nearby alley and waited there, still within reach of the market. The alley was shaded, and it provided refuge from the burning sun and intolerant crowd.

I didn’t know what Corey had planned. He’d scrawled swimwear on my thumb, so I wore a coral bikini covered by a light skirt that flowed down to my ankles and a loosely knitted top that showed off my midriff. I’d left my rucksack in my hotel room. It wasn’t the type of day to be prepared. It was the kind of day to let a hot renegade tell me what to do and where to go.

A gang of men passed through the alley, their faces hard and menacing. One glanced my way, but he said nothing, moving on with his friends. I wasn’t frightened, I was only a few feet from the crowd in the market, in plain view, but my patience began to wane. If Corey didn’t show up soon, I’d go back to my hotel room and wait for him there. He knew where it was.

“Hello again, pretty one.”

I jumped and whirled around. The gang had returned. I hadn’t heard them backtrack down the alley. They looked at me the way sharks hunted for flesh. The change in their eyes was terrifying.

“Not interested,” I said, looking down, avoiding the threat. I hoped they would leave if they had nothing to chase, but I was wrong.

“But we are,” one of them said with a thick accent, the taller of the group, the leader. “We’re very interested.”

Knowing there was nothing I could say to protect myself, I stepped away from the alley, closer to the crowd, but the gang quickly moved around me, shepherding me far from anyone who could help. I tried to scream, but a hand was placed over my mouth, stifling me.

“None of that,” the leader warned, his voice like Satan’s hiss. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

I nodded, and the hand that silenced me slid down to my throat, giving me air to breathe while reminding me how easily he could break my neck. “Here, take my money,” I beseeched, reaching into the pocket of my skirt and throwing what bills I had at them.

A pudgy man scrambled to the ground to pick up my bribe, but the others were motionless.

“We want more than money,” the leader said, his eyes flicking to my mouth, then lower. “Come with us. We’ll show you just how much fun the city can be. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Not interested,” I said again, but my voice shook. I was scared. I didn’t know how to be strong, not in a situation like this.

“We’re not asking.”

I looked over the heads of the men, towards the crowd on the street, my safety. The street wasn’t far. I had to fight my way back towards it, no matter the cost, but before I could try, the leader grabbed my arm, and his hand slammed over my mouth and nose. I couldn’t breathe let alone scream as I was hauled down the alley, farther away from the market, towards a danger I could not endure.