A blinding flash of bronze filled the left side of her vision.
Travis’s head yanked further sideways, followed by his body, replaced by an arm wrapped around his neck.
“Let go.” A dead calm infused the voice.
Travis dropped his hand. Hauled backward, his body was lowered to the ground by increments. Seyla blinked, unable to focus on the blur of chaos in front of her while her brain processed it. Jax leaned over Travis, contorting the man’s arm behind him as he lay on the ground. Travis spewed curses into the air in front of him, his face red and mottled. Spit flew from his lips.
Seyla smoothed her clothes, more to calm herself than to fix them. “Thank you.”
Why had she hesitated, though? The old fears from the past crashed down on her in their usual way. And Jax stood front and center to witness her weakness. Again.
Seyla expanded her lungs with several deep breaths to calm the pent-up adrenaline that had morphed into anger.Anger aimed at herself. At Travis Yoder. At Jax Marcum. Her fingernails bit into her palms until the pain registered.
Jumbled, muffled talking sank into her thoughts. Jax. What did he say?
A warm sensation hugged her calf, followed by a squeeze. A jolt of…something…ran through her.
She shook her head, flexed her hands. Her eyes landed on Jax. One of his hands restrained Travis. The other rested on her calf.
“Seyla? Did you hear me?”
“Um… sorry, no. What did you say?”
“I need you to call the police.” Jax’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Okay, I—”
Wait. Chase’s words rang through her head. Bad publicity. She glanced around the parking lot. No sign of the news truck scheduled to come today yet. Regardless, she should call Chase first. She angled away from them and plucked her cell phone from her pocket.
After a hushed conversation, Seyla ended the call and turned to find Jax glaring at her. She licked her lips. “I think it’s best if we let Mr. Yoder go with a warning this time.”
His jaw tensed. “So I heard.” He hauled Travis to his feet and released him.
Without hesitation, the man swung at him. Jax ducked, and in one fluid motion, pinned the guy’s arms behind him. “Now I’m the one pressing charges.”
Seyla glanced at the parking lot again. “We can’t afford—”
“Not my problem. I’m more worried about people than…all of this.” He swung his head around to indicate the sanctuary grounds. “You do what you need to do. I’m going to do what I need to do.”
Seyla bristled. Did he honestly think she didn’t care about people? What about all the people working at the sanctuary? What about the animals? “Which is what? Close the sanctuary?”
Travis perked up at that. Malicious excitement spread across his weathered face. “Works for me.”
“Walk.” Jax pushed him forward, moving in the direction of the front door with Seyla following behind. When he got there, Jax turned to her, keeping Travis to the side of him. “We have to talk. Without an audience,” he added, cocking his head to indicate he meant Travis. “I’ve got something to show you.”
Now what? Seyla’s heart sagged. The news truck would be here soon. She didn’t need any more problems. “I have an interview in half an hour on our enrichment program. Have Ada direct you to Sada’s enclosure when you’re…finished. Unless you want to change your mind. If so, we can talk right now.” Her gaze darted to the parking lot entrance.
“Not a chance.”
“Fine.” Seyla sighed and hurried inside.
This interview had to go off without the slightest hint of trouble. It would make or break them. Time to get straightened up before ensuring the enclosed habitat they planned to film was ready.
Ten minutes later, Seyla glanced with pride around the spacious, double-fenced, roofed enclosure housing one of their newest rescues, a three hundred pound black jaguar named Sada. Numerous enrichment activities, toys, and patches of tall grass were scattered throughout the enclosed habitat. An elevated two-hundred-foot-long fenced-in tunnel featuring gradually sloping sides allowed the cat to climb and explore. Seyla eyed the pumpkins on poles, the seven box-like, flat platforms at differing heights Sada could jump to for alternate views, various balls, and man-made pool to assure herself the space contained the things she wanted to showcase.
The news crew would be here any minute, filming from the unique two-mile-stretch of elevated wooden walkways and observation decks that minimized the public’s effect on the sanctuary’s animals. The wide walkways followed the staff access channels between each one to two acre pod-like roofed or open air enclosures, creating a honeycomb appearance. It spanned a hundred acres of the rolling hills and farmland for which Ohio was known. The back edge of the property shared a fence line with Moraine Reserve, although the typography was vastly different. The wooded reserve’s sharp cliffs and ravines were a hidden treasure in the region.
Sada lounged on one of the square platforms raised three feet off the ground, a half-eaten gourd between his paws. Face raised and eyes closed, he basked in the warmth of the sun. Seyla’s heart squeezed at the contentment evident in the creature’s pose. Each day, he transformed a fraction more from the emaciated, dull and patchy-coated cat whose legs shook with weakness and whose body cringed at the sight of humans if unable to defend himself. His physical scars were hidden now beneath thick, glossy black fur.