Zane stepped forward, standing behind Ty and the sheriff. The others joined him, Cody, Mark, and Joe finding their way into the clearing. Zane put Mark to his side, not allowing his brother-in-law to be behind him.
“You think you know something about me? Go ahead and say it!” Stuart shouted.
“You’ve been poaching tigers,” Ty said, as calm as the breeze. “You’re running something out there, and you shot me in the chest with a dart that damn near killed me.”
“You got no proof. Sheriff, this is ridiculous. You gonna let this queer come in here and tell you what to do?”
The sheriff nodded curtly. “He seems to know what he’s talking about, Stuart.”
“Bullshit! You got no proof!”
“You’ve got my knife in your boot.”
Stuart took a swing. Ty leaned away from it and trapped Stuart’s fist between both hands. He jabbed his elbow under the man’s chin, sending him reeling back, then kicked at his thigh and caused his leg to buckle. Stuart went to his knees, and Ty kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
The sheriff and his deputies pulled their weapons, fanning out to surround Stuart and his cohorts.
Ty put one booted foot on Stuart’s neck, pressing down with the heel to keep him still. It had happened so fast that none of Stuart’s buddies had been able to move to help, and when the guns turned on them they each raised their hands, sinking to their knees without putting up a fight.
Harrison forced his way through the crowd. “What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”
Ty didn’t lift his boot off Stuart’s throat. “I put my knife into the thigh of one of the poachers who attacked me.”
Sheriff Barnes looked down at Stuart. The spot where Ty had kicked him was beginning to bleed. The sheriff pursed his lips, then bent to look in Stuart’s boot where Ty was pointing. He pulled a knife out of the sheath the man had tucked into his boot and held it up. It was a Strider SA model. A simple, sturdy knife about seven inches long. Zane knew the leather-wrapped handle was worn from years of use, and that the sheriff would find the words “S. SGT BT GRADY” engraved in the hilt.
The sheriff looked up at Ty and nodded. He pulled his radio from its belt and called to his dispatcher. “We caught the poachers.”
Ty moved his foot off Stuart’s neck as Zane joined him.
“There were more than four people involved,” Zane told the sheriff.
Ty and Zane stepped back to let the deputies handcuff their prisoners. They rolled Stuart to his belly and yanked his hands behind his back.
“You think you know everything, you f**king queers?” Stuart snarled against the dirt. “You got trouble in your own damn house!”
Zane stalked forward and bent down to grab a handful of his hair. “Trouble in my house? Who?”
Stuart gave him a toothy grin. “You got no idea.” He looked over his shoulder as he lay in the dust. “I want a lawyer.”
Ty grabbed Zane’s arm and pulled him up before Zane could throttle a restrained prisoner in front of witnesses.
“We need to go back to that pump house,” Ty hissed in his ear as he bullied him away from the others. Zane stopped fighting him and let himself be dragged to the edge of the crowd. “We need to do it now.”
Zane’s eyes landed on Mark, and he was unable to tear them away as he nodded. “Let’s get out there before he does.”
They slipped through the crowd, lost in the excitement of the confrontation, and headed around the barn, where the family had parked their vehicles to keep them out of the way and block off certain parts of the ranch from partygoers.
The chaotic hum of the milling crowd on the other side of the barn was overwhelmed by the distinct sound of a tiger roaring.
Silence overcame the ranch. The sound ripped its way through Zane’s body like nothing else he’d ever experienced, and he and Ty both froze in their tracks. The tiger roared again, the sound culminating in a low, seemingly endless rumble. It was like a purr from hell.
The crowd on the other side of the barn began to boil with panic. Screaming and shouting, people scrambled to get to safety.
Zane felt the hairs rise on his neck, a feeling of foreboding overtaking him as Ty’s hand tightened on his arm. He turned his head, knowing Barnum the Bengal tiger was there before he ever caught sight of him. Ty turned with him. Barnum sat twenty yards away, watching them. He chuffed and sniffed the air.
There was a buzzing sound over Ty’s harsh breaths and the sounds of the terrified partygoers, and Zane realized it was panic encroaching.
The tiger made another sound, an odd hissing that Zane soon realized hadn’t come from the tiger at all. It was Ty, making the same sound he did to call Smith and Wesson.
He did it again and took a step forward.
“Oh Jesus, Ty, this is not how I want to die,” Zane whispered.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t!”
Barnum stood and lowered his head. He took a step to match Ty’s. Ty took another. Barnum chuffed and drew closer, looking wary.
“He’s scared, Zane.”
“Well, he should join the f**king club.”
“Come on, Barnum.”
“Ty, you are not the tiger whisperer,” Zane hissed.
Ty held out a hand to calm him, then took a few more steps toward Barnum. In the blink of an eye, Barnum lowered his body and lunged at Ty, wrapping his arms around his head and dragging his face against Ty’s as he stood on his hind legs and hugged him. His massive body dwarfed Ty, and Zane could only see Ty’s arms as he returned the tiger’s hug. Barnum continued to rub his floppy ear against Ty’s face.
Zane stood rooted to the spot, mouth hanging open, shaking his head.
After a few long moments, Barnum released Ty and sat down. Ty staggered back and leaned over, gasping for breath.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” Zane whispered, still stunned.
Ty began to laugh. “That’s what he did in his enclosure.” He held out his fist to the tiger, and Barnum smacked him with his paw like he was giving him a fist bump. “Loves to hug.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“We need to get those animal control morons over here. Or call the sanctuary, let them know we found him.”
“You’re a f**king idiot!”
Ty straightened and Barnum sent a low grumble in Zane’s direction. Ty shook his head, smirking a little. “My tiger disagrees, Zane.”
“Son of a bitch.”