Chapter 37 Harrison
HARRISON
After a wonderful evening, plus a productive day signing the agreements to build our global media and entertainment conglomerate and seeing contacts in a film studio regarding collaborations, I awake in the night.
I then have trouble sleeping, and I am restless. My instincts have always been good, and something feels wrong.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid, and maybe I’m unable to let my guard down. Or turn my mind off fully.
Last week, William mentioned the idea of retiring. I’ve been thinking about that on and off. He also said Tusk was starting to eat less.
My inner alarms are firing as I look over and see Samantha in the moonlight.
I stand on the balcony, looking across Manhattan, and Central Park, and I wait for the sun to rise.
Just before five, my personal cell rings. I take it away from the bed and from the stirring Sam. “One minute,” I say low, stepping onto the balcony, and now into the rising sun. “Go,” I say.
“We have a problem.”
I already know that because a call at this time only means one thing. Trouble. William would also never call this early unless it’s an emergency.
“Shoot,” I growl, rubbing my neck.
“Security heard Tusk this morning, and it sounded like he was in pain.”
My jaw tightens, and I don’t like it. “And?”
“And I found him lying down, Harry. Blood was running from his mouth, and he was heaving.”
“Jesus.”
“It’s as if something has ruptured.”
I snarl, looking directly into the sun. I stare at the big ball of fire, as if it will protect me, or us, or burn right through me.
“I immediately called that big cat veterinarian, Sanders, whom we have used for years. He and a nurse drove straight up. They have worked for hours and taken his blood. The nurse is racing it to a lab now.”
I inhale as he continues.
“They also did an ultrasound, and well, it looks like we’ve got problems. Growths.”
I feel like vomiting, and I feel a tear forming in my eye.
Tusk and I go way back, and I helped him grow up as did my darling sister, Amanda. He is my brother and my only family in the world. “Hit me,” I say, body tensing for the blow.
“Are you sure?”
“Now!”
“He has cancer.”
“Where?” There is silence. “Tell me!”
“Everywhere, Harry, it’s everywhere, mate.”
I vomit on the balcony, and I stand wet-eyed in the sun. Wiping a tear, I curse the universe.
“And it’s in every primary organ.”
“Dear God.”
“They just brought in a second ultrasound unit from an Upstate zoo. The strange thing is Dr. Sanders said every other tiger he’s come across would have died months back.”
I pace as I shake my head.
“It sounds like Tusk has some kind of superior pain control, or he is one tough son of a bitch. The vet said he’s never seen an animal survive or walk with this amount in him.” I wipe my eyes as the first rays of sun warm me. “Sir.”
“Yes,” I say, thinking fast. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Anything else, Sir?”
“Tell Sanders to do whatever is necessary. Just keep the pain away. Silence the pain and fast.”
“Yes, sir. And Harry…”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
Dropping the phone to my side, I bathe in the birth of a new day. And a day in the universe I will forever now hate, and never forget.
I know I have a tough day ahead, and we will soon have to race back. Then see Tusk, and I will have to make a decision. A big decision, and fast.
I look inside as gentle, perfect Samantha sits up and stretches. I know I will have to contain my energy and not freak her out.
She’s had it rough for a while, especially with the dipshit ex. I also owe her. My job from now on is to protect her.
I also know I’m distracted. Distracted with the entertainment conglomerate and with William talking about retiring. I am on thin ice. The last strands of my once stable life are fraying, and all I know and rely on is crumbling.
As Sam pulls on one of my business shirts and walks out with a bare butt and feet, I force a smile.
She steps in, and I pull her close. I need a hug, and I need energy. “Sleep well?”
“Sure,” I lie, “you?”
Sam pulls back and she looks up. “Are you okay?’”
“Sure,” I say, anything but.
Be honest and open up, I tell myself. Grow the fuck up.
“Kind of.”
“What?” Samantha asks, holding me.
“William called. Tusk is sick.”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. How bad?”
I look away, wet-eyed and I stare over Manhattan and Central Park. My teeth grind down hard, and I crush my molars. I then look at the sun. I seek energy, and I do not care it is burning my eyes.
A tear falls, and I loathe myself for being weak.
“Oh, honey.”
Sam wraps her arms around my neck, and she holds me close. “Oh, baby.” Seconds later, she whispers close, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
He will not, and they are coming for him. Like they came for my family.
“Want to go now?”
I nod.
I thrash the Jaguar fast out of Manhattan and along Central Park. The old English engine screams, and the sound echoes through the sleepy streets.
It is Saturday, and no one is up yet. Just as well, because I cut corners, giving zero fucks. I also ignore every red light. Sam says nothing, but she holds on for her life.
I get the Jag sideways, and soon the city is sleeping behind us.
Finally, we are out of the city, in one piece, and we head north. As the sun rises over New York City in the distance, I hit my cell.
William answers fast. “Get them to repeat the tests,” I say coldly. “We’re on our way. Get them to test anything and everything three times. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Rubbing my neck, I sigh and calm. “Any updates?”
“No, sir, he just looks tired, and at times, he just rolls around, growling.”
“In pain?”
“No, Sir. Sanders said he was, and his words, not mine, up to his eyeballs with painkillers. Enough to level a bull elephant.”
I sniff and sound like a robot. “Thanks. Hold the fort. We’re on our way.”
I hit the cell and lift my collar. It’s cold, but the discomfort is welcome. I need to embrace it, or I will get softer and softer.
I have a small family now. I know I have to protect them, and nothing will get in my way. No more death!
Sam reaches over and holds my thigh. She has learned fast today not to try and hold my gloved gear-changing hand.
I am basically racing the near track-ready old English sports car.
I will likely run up a thousand today in speeding tickets, maybe five, not that I give a flying fuck.
As the sports car drifts around another leaf and dew-coated corner, I focus.
I feel Samantha’s fingers bite into my thigh, and I slow some.
We are right on the edge, but I must see Tusk before he leaves. I also have things to say, messages to give him... For the others.
Chopping down a gear, I push the old engine. We blast under trees, and we streak into the distance.
All I can think of is Tusk. And his eyes, his soft heart, and pure soul. And how much I need to protect him from pain.
As I feel Sam’s eyes on me, I adjust my Ray-Ban sunglasses. I then feel something tickle my cheek. Tears mean more burying, and I’ve buried enough.
Tears also mean weakness, and I detest myself for it.
As I wonder if the universe is targeting me, I hope to God it’s not one of those moments. One of those 'the good Lord giveth, and the good Lord taketh' moments.
I am not a religious man, but I guess I am spiritual. In saying that, I’ve seen him, or mother nature, give and take at the same time.
That concept terrifies me. I need Samantha, but I also need him. I need Tusk.
I turn the wheel in my gloves, and I wonder. Wonder if and why I have to lose one.
Here and now.