Chapter 88

The thought of putting Sultan into the ground made him retch; he leaned over, head down over his knees but nothing came up.

I’m not sure I can do this.

His memories skittered over his years with Sultan. Falling asleep with the cub between he and Juliana one afternoon, waking to make love to her and Sultan’s breathy rumble thick in his ear the whole time. An adult Sultan leaping ten feet straight up to catch an errant Muscovy duck that had flown into his cage from the lake, an astonishing sight. The tiger loping through his enclosure, chasing a bowling ball the way a housecat played with a Ping-Pong ball, his “mmwwwrrss” of enjoyment reverberating in a cold winter morning.

It should be me. If he has to die, let me do it, not Lawton.