All the Promises We Break (The Desire

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Copyright © 2024 by Ariana Rose

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 Contents

Playlists
Dedication
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
32. Chapter Thirty-Two
33. Chapter Thirty-Three
34. Chapter Thirty-Four
35. Chapter Thirty-Five
36. Chapter Thirty-Six
37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
40. Chapter Forty
41. Chapter Forty-One
Also By Ariana
Follow Ariana
 Playlists

Elijah and Dylan

Gravity – Sara Bareilles

With Or Without You – U2
Like U – Rosenfeld
Tequila – Dan + Shay
Crazy Love – Brian McKnight
Ultra Violet – U2
Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley
Worship You – Kane Brown
All I Want Is You – U2

Wes and Hayley

Plush – Stone Temple Pilots

Patience – Chris Cornell
Up In Flames – She Wants Revenge
This Moment Now – Tyrone Wells
Lose Somebody – Kygo/One Republic
Run – Snow Patrol
Stay – Hurts
Daylight – Maroon 5
If You Love Her – Forest Blakk
 Dedication

For B
I will keep my promise of always and forever
I miss you more with each passing day
I love you
#F***Cancer
LOVE IS INFINITE
“The soul needs beauty for a soul mate.
When the soul wants, the soul waits.”
-U2
 Chapter One

DYLAN

For all the feeling my dancing takes, all the emotion, I don’t know if I’ve ever thought about the possibility of a soulmate. Until
Elijah, I didn’t allow myself to get close enough.
The sun is setting a little later than it was just a month ago. It’s getting warmer too. It feels nearly too close lying next to Eli.
Today was big for both of us. His first major outing, my unknown audition, and then watching him on his knee. I can feel my
breathing change. The quiet is very loud.
It’s in those quiet moments the replay of the last few weeks goes round and round inside my head. Our fight. Me saying we
won’t work. Him letting it happen. The accident. The consuming fear he’d leave me. Our fight back to each other. Every event
gives another layer to my anxiety and another layer to my fear. Even the commitment we have now won’t erase what might have
been.
I roll slowly out of bed, making sure any movement I make doesn’t disturb him. I’ll never again take for granted the simple
pleasure of watching him sleep. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over my need to do that. I think I might forever wait for him to try
and leave me again.
As I’m doing the last bundle of my hair atop my head, my ring catches. I pull my hand down and stare. A symbol of his love
and a bond I’ll have with him forever glistens right back at me. A heated flush rushes up my body. There’s the kind of
adrenaline that gives you wings and then there’s the kind that clips them. For the first time I can’t tell the difference.
A gentle knock takes me out of my head and back to the present. We’ve seen everyone today. Who could it be? Through the
peephole I see Lauren, Eli’s best girl friend, from across the hall. I love her and her girlfriend, Stacey, not just because they’ve
always taken such good care of Eli, but because they’re cool, chill, and easy to talk to. That’s something I could use right now.
After turning the deadbolts, I open the door to the amazing aroma of her world-famous lasagna. “Hey. Oh my gosh, you didn’t
have to do that.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a nervous cooker. When I didn’t hear back from him, I got worried.”
“Worried? Why?”
“I guess if you’re opening the door, you didn’t say no.” Lauren giggles.
“Get in here. We just have to keep it down. He’s sleeping right now.” Lauren sneaks around me like I’m going to smack her
for keeping me in the dark. “I feel like I was the only one not in the know.”
“That would take all the fun out of it if you saw it coming. You liked Gigi’s ring, right?”
“How could I not? I mean it’s about the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” I take the lasagna from her, heading for the
kitchen. Lauren’s bare feet follow behind me step for step. “Thank you for this. Food was the last thing on our minds after this
afternoon.”
“Tell me how he did it. He had a broad idea but fill me in on the execution.”
“It was fucking surreal. It’s almost like it didn’t happen. Eli wanted to take a walk around campus. I thought it was too soon,
he didn’t, of course. We stopped at my loft first. He wanted me to get my dance gear together. Again okay, but then I knew for
sure he was up to something when we snuck into the auditorium.
“He made me dance to the same music I was dancing to when I told him we couldn’t see each other anymore. I swore I’d
never play Sara Bareilles again. He started the music and basically shouted at me to move. I was terrified but the music won
me over.”
“Well played, sir. Damn. Then what happened?”
“I danced the best freestyle performance of my life. I can’t explain it. It’s like I was dancing as someone else or possessed or
something. I’ve always danced for me, you know? That routine was not only for me, but for him. I collapsed to the floor when I
was done.
“He had his parents, grandparents, Hayley, and Wes watching from the shadows. He also got the director of the company’s
audition I missed to watch. He convinced her to give me a full audition later this summer. This was all before the ring.” I can
feel my heart race again sitting still. My hands wrap over the edge of the kitchen counter to have any hope of grounding myself.
“That had to be overwhelming. Are you okay though? You seem happy. You said yes, but I feel like there’s something else. I
know I don’t know you very well but as a fellow creative, I can see when the elements are getting the better of you.”
“I don’t know. It’s just so much. There are so many things to decide. I’m having a hard time sorting it all out in my head. This
wasn’t anything I planned for or really saw coming right now.”
“Neither was Eli’s accident. This is a good thing. He loves you so much. I was here during Tori. I was here after. He’s
different with you. He’s the person he should’ve always been. I know he wasn’t looking for you either, but here you both are.
That’s a gift. Don’t give it back.”
Lauren puts her hand softly on my shoulder. “I know it’s a lot. Just know that Stacey and I are not only here for him, but
we’re here for you too. You can never have too many friends, or pairs of shoes.” She smiles. “I’ll leave you be for now. Just
know our door is always open. Okay?”
I give her a small smile in return. “Okay. Thank you again for dinner.”
“You bet. Now have a glass of wine and breathe. I’ll let myself out.”
With a wink, she turns on her heel with her red flowing curls floating just behind her, leaving me to uncork the bottle of white
I hid in the back of the refrigerator in case of emergency. I think this situation would qualify.
I place the lasagna in a portion of the open space where the wine once stood. I realize my hand is shaking when I try to
uncork the bottle. Before pouring, I clench and release my fists with a shake. It usually works just not this time.
I’ve heard of dancers having attacks of panic before an audition or a big performance. It stems from knowing everything
comes down to this moment. One wrong step, one misplaced arm or hand, one heavy leap, and it could all be over.
One wrong choice and this could all be over.
I need air. I need that more than I need the wine, but I bring it with me. The impending night is my savior in the moment. As I
open the balcony door to let the gentle breeze hit me, I can feel the lightness of the air reach the bottom of my lungs.
My heart is still pounding in my ears. At least the white noise of the city below is allowing me to shut out the thoughts racing
in my head. Can I really do this? What are we going to tell people at the office? Will this all work? Eli says he has no doubts.
Is that true?
The padded bench calls to me from the far end of the balcony. As I close my eyes and set my glass on the floor, my knees
instinctively pull to my chest. It occurs to me I’m wearing the same T-shirt Eli gave me to put on the first night I ever stayed
here. We’ve lived a lifetime since then. Possibly two or three. There are no quick one-liners back and forth. There’s a harsh
and beautiful reality in front of us.
My face turns to the wind and I simply breathe. When there’s nothing else, there is that. The sun gives me one last good night
kiss as its rays bounce off the windows on a building a couple blocks away. My focus needs to center on the here and now
versus the fear of the past and the future.
“I woke up and you were gone.” His sleepy voice echoes from the doorway. “Did I hear Lauren?”
“Yeah. She dropped off dinner for us. We just have to rewarm it. Her famous lasagna.”
“I missed waking up next to you.”
“I’m sorry. I needed a minute or two alone before the sun set.”
“Your face tells me you need more than a minute. Today was…” He pauses.
“You’re right it was. It was a lot.”
“Is this a private thinking session or can anyone join?”
“Not anyone, just you.” I loosen my grip on my knees to extend my hand to him. His hair is finally filling in from where they
had to shave it. He slides his glasses up with his finger before taking my hand. I lift both my legs into the air, offering an
invitation to sit before I cage him in under them. His soft lips leave their imprint on my forehead before he embraces his
capture.
“Are you sure you should be up?”
“I’m fine. I’m more than fine. Now we need to work on getting you there. Do you need to change your answer to one or more
of the questions you were asked today?”
His fingers rub over the ring he placed on my finger. It’s silently asking a bigger question than the one he just did in words. I
cup his cheek with my right hand. “No. I don’t. Do you want to take it back?”
“That would be the point at which I’d want someone to take me back to the hospital and check my head again.”
I let my hand fall away from his cheek. “Not funny, Sawyer.”
“Hey, I’m not trying to make light of it. I just want to see you smile. Today was a good day.” Eli takes a deep breath before
resting his lips on my forehead. “Look, maybe we need to talk. Get it all out in the open. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“Are you ready for that, Eli? I mean really ready? It’s a mess in there right now.”
“What a beautiful mess.”
“Stop,” I beg.
 “Don’t you know there’s nothing we can’t get through if we stick together? Things happen when we’re apart.”
“Pulling the older and wiser card?” I smirk.
“Yes and the been there done that. I need to ask you a question and I want you to answer me without thinking. Are you
scared?” I open my mouth to say yes, but no words come out. Eli slowly tugs me over onto his lap, wrapping his arms around
my body. “I know fear isn’t a thing you like to admit.”
“In dance, being a little afraid is a good thing. It means you still want to be better. You want to push yourself. But it can also
lead to injury if you’re tentative.”
“Is that what you are, Viper? Tentative? You said you’re a mess. Tell me. I won’t break.”
Behind a wall I create with my hands, for the first time since Eli woke up, I completely melt into a waterfall of tears. You
can only hold your breath for so long before you need to exhale.
Being afraid that he’d never hear me say I’m sorry, afraid our last words would be in anger. Now I’m afraid to look ahead.
What if it’s all too much? What if I’m not enough? Above everything, I allow myself to fully feel the emptiness that would have
consumed me if Eli was gone.
“I knew it. Damn. Dylan,” he whispers softly to me. “Please let me see your eyes.”
I shake my head. “No.” My voice cracks at the end as my shoulders shake.
“If you can’t show me, at least let it go.”
“You almost did break. I can’t let. It. Go.”
“Viper, you have to. It’s eating you up inside. It’s just you and me. We’re home. I’m healing. I need to hear what’s in your
head.”
Elijah holds the back of my head, gently pressing my cheek into his chest. I say the first thing that comes to my mind over the
sobs. “I hate you.”
I can feel his body vibrate with a subtle chuckle before he responds. “You hate me. That’s what this is all about?”
“No. It’s not. Don’t laugh at me. I hate you for making me less independent. I hate you for making me depend on someone. I
hate you for making me love you then almost lose you.”
“Let me make sure I understand. You hate me because you love me.”
“Yes.” I say that both as a question and a statement.
I can feel Eli looking down at me. I want to see his face but I’m not sure I’m ready for him to see mine. He gently tilts my
chin up to look at him. His eyes are a mix of happiness, sadness, confusion, and love. “One thing at a time, Viper. Just one. Why
do you think you’re less independent?”
“My parents didn’t really give a shit about what made me happy or filled my soul. Eli, you think about that for me more than I
do. That was made crystal clear today by having Jill Wallace show up after I missed the first audition. You knew who to call
and cared enough to make the plea for me.”
“I asked my father for help. I knew that one of our board members is highly connected in her circle. I didn’t feel I had enough
of a relationship with her yet to ask if she knew Jill or knew of a friend who did. So, my father made the connection and the
rest, they say, is history.”
“No one close to me has cared that much about my dancing before.”
“Then they don’t love you like I do. One of the benefits of growing up in a family like I did was that I had perfect role
models for love. I studied love in all my philosophy classes, but my living case studies are my parents and grandparents. When
one of them had a dream, it was both of them who fought for it.
“AnSa wouldn’t be what it is without Gran and Mom. Pops knows that and so does my father. I love your pieces where you
put so much of your anger, fear, and sadness in them. They’re raw but so filled with this energy I can’t describe. I want to be a
witness to when you soar inside as much as you do on the outside. I want to see you rehearse for your next chapter.”
“How do you know what my next chapter looks like when I don’t?”
He holds me back at arm’s length. “Are you telling me you don’t want to dance for Jill?” His eyes dart back and forth, like
he’s trying to solve a code just beyond his capability. He looks as confused on the outside as I feel on the inside.
“No. I’m not saying that. It’s just that it’s so real now. Everything is real.
“Playing became passion which is becoming permanent. I’m excited by that. I feel like this is my second chance in so many
ways.
“Eli, I just need to take this step by step. Your health and recovery is first.”
“What comes second, Viper? What? Don’t use me as a crutch not to look ahead. That’s not fair to me. It’s bullshit, actually.”
“Bullshit? My fear is bullshit. Good to know.” I fling my legs out of his lap. My feet hit the concrete of his balcony with a
thud. The bottom of my wine glass scrapes along a groove as I pick it up in haste. The long sips I take as I walk coat my throat,
raw from tears that still flow even in my anger.
“Dylan, stop!” My name vibrates off a couple of nearby buildings and echoes in front of me. I let my arm fall to my side with
the empty glass still in my hand. I catch Eli’s reflection in the window to our right. His fingers are pressed over his closed
eyelid just inches from his scar.
 I turn back quickly to make sure I’m seeing things right. “Eli? What’s wrong?”
“Instant karma for raising my voice. Headache behind my eye.”
After setting the glass on the bistro table, I walk over to him and kneel down by his feet. “Let me take you inside.”
“I don’t want to go back to bed. We need to sort this out.”
“Come inside and we’ll curl up on the couch. It’s quieter and I promise I’ll talk.” I take his elbow softly, tugging for him to
get up. After a moment he finally does. “This is my fault too.”
Elijah shuffles slowly inside to the comfort of the couch. I become his pillow as his head rests gently down in my lap. My
fingers run in a lazy circular pattern over his forehead for nearly five minutes before he speaks again. “I’ve watched you for
months. I’ve listened to everything you’ve ever said. You don’t think you can have it all. I know we can. May I tell you how?
“Graduation is just a couple short months away. You’ll feel better once that’s settled. I see you being the principal dancer
you want, but also do something else I know fills you up. I’ve seen the same determination with what you’ve given to the Roark
Foundation and your branch of it. It combines your dance with helping others.
“I’d hate to see you feel like you have to choose. You’re helping more people than you realize and one day, a long time from
now, when dancing is done, you will have this always as a legacy. Your feet will leave their mark, not only on the floor but in
hearts too. You can have it all. Your capacity is limitless.”
“That’s a lot. I have to think about it, Eli. I really do.” I created patterns around his forehead a couple more times in the
silence between us. Then I ask for something I’ve been missing. Something that centers me. “Will you lay on me? I know that
sounds weird but, I want to feel the weight of your body over mine.”
“I suppose it will be a precursor to coming attractions in the weeks ahead? This could prove difficult.”
“I just want to feel calmed by you. I just want to feel peaceful.”
Eli rolls gently off my lap down onto all fours on the floor. He gives my cheek a soft kiss before I swing my legs to the length
of the couch. When I’m fully settled, I motion for him to join me. He slithers up and over my body. His head rests softly on my
chest as his arms snake under my back with his hands locking over my shoulders.
My lips leave featherlight kisses on the top of his head. Eli’s fingers tense then release over my skin. I whisper to him, “I
didn’t hurt you, did I?”
A long rolling sigh leaves his body. “Not at all. I hope I’ll fall asleep.”
“Are you still tired?”
“Not really. But at least I can do whatever I want to you in my dreams.”
“I can’t wait for the day when dreams become reality again.”
 Chapter Two

ELIJAH

I’m beginning to like the darkness again. For a long time it was something I dreaded. It was the place where fear and doubt
took over. Now it’s the place I can hold something that chases those things away. As much as I like the serenity I get from
Dylan’s frame draping over mine, I enjoy blanketing her just as much.
I love how her petite athletic stature fits like the perfect complement into the bends of my body at any given time. I love the
rhythmic beat of her heart pounding just under my cheek. I love the deep breaths she takes about once an hour. They catch
slightly at the end. That’s how I know she’s fully asleep.
She deserves some peace. She’s spent weeks not taking care of herself. This latest dip in her self-esteem and self-confidence
rides wholly on my shoulders. She was injured too. I just wish I could see her scars. I’d at least be able to see the beast I’m
facing.
I was ready for the obvious physical effects of the accident. I can measure that I’ll be slower to walk, let alone run. My
shoulder will be in rehab for about six months. I accept the memory blanks and hope those around me at the office will be able
to as well. I don’t want to fail them, let alone myself.
My subconscious often wanders to my first meetings. Will I have to follow again before I can lead? It’s a never-ending war I
battle every time I close my eyes. What will I say? How will it be received?
These dialogues often begin as I ride the fine line between sleep and awake. I write and edit the words over and over. This
happens until or unless I get the desired outcome. My eraser is casting out about half of the latest draft as I get pulled to another
place.
I can feel subtle twists and ticks beneath me. They pull me from the darkness and my self-inflicted hot seat. I open my eyes,
confused for a moment to where I am. The light has gone to twilight. Rush hour traffic noise has faded to the nighttime bustle.
The twists and ticks continue. The deep breaths I was used to from Dylan have become more erratic. She’s dreaming. Her body
is usually eerily peaceful while she sleeps. I’ve spent many nights watching her.
This is different. There are small childlike groans that rattle in her chest. I need to see how this plays out. If I wake her,
she’ll say she doesn’t remember. I don’t want her in pain if this is a nightmare she needs to be woken from.
Her groans become simple words. No. Stop. Eli.
I raise my chin so I can see her face clearly. Her eyes twitch and a single tear drips from the corner. That’s where I draw the
line. My arm slowly slides out from behind her back and my thumb wipes the tear away. “Viper. Hey.” My finger finishes
contact with her cheek as my words try to coax her back to reality.
Dylan gasps as her eyes dart open. She tries to get out from under my weight like a scared animal would retreat to their
corner. “Hey, hey. Calm down,” I whisper. “You’re here. You’re safe.”
It takes her a few seconds to process what I’ve said and realize where she is. I can see the race of her pulse in her neck with
my eyes. “Eli?”
“Yes. It’s me. Are you all right?”
“I… I don’t know. Kiss me?”
“Kiss you?”
“That’s the only way I’ll know I’m not imagining this. Kiss me.”
I would have kissed her without an invitation. I asked her to kiss me once too. It was to make sure I was alive and that she
was there with me. I raise myself off the beautiful bed that is her body. Dylan tucks her legs quickly under her. She’s recoiled
away from me; afraid this isn’t real. I move toward her body, my knees making deep imprints into the cushions.
My hand reaches into the quiet darkness toward her. The pads of my fingers roll over the back of her neck, pulling her to my
lips. I give Dylan a ghost of a kiss at first to make sure she accepts that this is real, and we are here. Alive.
The tension that’s been radiating out of her as fear morphs into sexual tension that has magnetized between us since our first
glance. I haven’t been given the green light to be with her again, but I have to trust my body. What my body is telling me I need
right now is her.
We’re usually expressive in a wild intensity that would rival an active volcano. My being wants to give her that, but I also
know I’m not physically ready for it. We need a new subtle boil for the moment that will evaporate the need we have for each
other right now.
My body casts a shadow over her. I feel like I dwarf Dylan for the first time ever in our relationship. She’s always been
bolder, braver. I like that. I crave it in fact. When she’s at her strongest is when I’m happiest. My lips mold and blend with
hers. There’s the slightest tremble from them.
My feather kisses begin to take a marked turn. I want her to feel in control. I want her to take control back. I push her toward
the flames. Respond, Viper. Strike.
Her breathing stops for just a second. I can feel the internal struggle she’s battling. “For the second time today, don’t let fear
win, Dylan.”
I hear her inhale and as she does, she rises to her knees. Her delicate hands wrap my jawline. She pulls me in closer to her.
Our bodies meet. I can feel the heat from my girl begin to rise, even through my T-shirt she’s now claimed as hers.
As our lips wage war with each other, my hands slip to her hips. They splay out over her hip bones. Dylan moans softly as
my hands possess her skin in a way it’s been too long since the last time. The last time was at the gala. We were in hiding then.
Now she’s officially mine.
Her hands move to trail over every bump of my spine. The lower she goes the more my need grows. Dylan knows this. She
slides her fingers around the waistband on my sleep pants. Every muscle in my torso contracts. She gives me a gentle shove. I
know exactly what she wants.
My back lowers to the opposite end of the couch. I pile the pillows beneath my head and neck so I have an easier time
watching her. She pulls the remote for the sound system from a secret location and presses the power button. The soft yet
powerful voice of Bono fills the room. “One” has long been a favorite of mine, not only for the music but the lyrics. It’s about
to have a whole new beat beneath it.
Dylan gives me a smile unlike any I’ve seen lately. The woman who woke in fear is now looking at me fearlessly. That look
is wholly erotic and one I will never get enough of. She wraps the hem of the cotton T-shirt coating her body with her hands,
lifts it over her head, triumphantly tossing it to the ground.
Her hair lies like bands of blonde silk over her shoulders and down her back. Dylan’s body gravitates toward mine with a
kiss just above my navel. She winds her fingers into the drawstrings on my pants and tugs. “A little help, please.”
My heels press into the cushions on either side of my beautiful fiancée and my backside rises just enough so she can tug the
fabric around my waist free. The bite of the elastic over my skin only enhances my need for her. I watch Dylan as she seems to
be in a glorious slow motion. Over my right foot first, then the left, is only a precursor to the floor next to my, or should I say
her, T-shirt.
She slides her hand under my right thigh, placing it with gentle desire away from the pillows along the back edge of the
couch so she can slither farther up my body. The weight of her straddles my hips. I want to touch her. I need to touch her. As I
reach up to feel the softness of her skin, she wraps her fingers around my wrists and presses them above my head. “Not fair,
Viper,” I whisper in protest.
“I will let you at a time I choose. Remember my toenail painting party?”
The memory from our trip to Vermont washes back in various shades of pink: the one I painted on her toes, the one on her
parted lips as mine feasted on her body, and especially the one that brushed up against her skin. “Vividly.”
“Let me give it to you like that in return.”
“I’m more of a pale purple than pink.”
She smacks my hip but more of her hand vibrates off the portion of my left ass cheek, peeking out from just beyond my sight. I
inhale deep. That wasn’t something I expected or expected to like, but I did. “Did I hurt you?” she asks.
“Not in a way I minded. I’ve missed Viper in technicolor.”
“Good.”
She rises up off my thighs. Her eyes never leave mine. I see a slight moment of hesitation before she slides down, taking me
all the way to my root. We both exhale in unison at the feeling of our connection. We’ve been through so much individually, and
together, that this intimate act is one of releasing fear and recommitting to each other in a way that brought us together in the
first place.
With the first roll of her hips, my hands clench into fists. She rests her right hand in the center of my chest as her left arm
drapes over the pillows beside us. Each slow wave of her body makes me only want to touch her more. She doesn’t ask for
much ever. She’s asked I don’t touch her until she says I should. I didn’t realize how hard that would become.
I twist bundled strands of my own hair with my fingers. I’m praying that these tethers will hold strong until I’m given the
words to set me free. My groans stay quiet. The only thing I really want to hear is her. I want to remember every bit of motion,
every breath, every single noise she makes.
 This is the best bit of choreography she’s ever crafted. Her fingers rise and fall over my skin. She pulls her weight back and
then lets it ride forward. I can feel myself shake from the inside out. Dylan has a way of possessing me that I didn’t know was
possible.
She reaches up with her left hand, holding my wrists still. The perfect pink of her nipples drag across my chest. Dylan drives
me so deep inside her we’re no longer two bodies. We’re one.
My lips drag across her cheek. I drink in the taste. “Let me touch you, Viper. Don’t make me beg.”
The most wicked of smiles crosses her mouth. She slides her hand from my chest and grips my chin in its palm. After giving
it a biting squeeze, she teases me with a nibble of my ear as her hand joins the other, weaving our fingers together.
That small touch gives me a bit of leverage. I rotate her arms behind her back in my own personal handcuffs. Her core is her
strength. She battles my will with every roll of her hips. She owns me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I open my fingers enough to have her show me her next trick. She flattens my hands over her lower back as she straightens
up. Instantly, I grip her hips and arch my body skyward. The slight lift rates a sexy whimper. “More,” she begs. I will never say
no to her.
Our souls have been crying out for this connection and there is no way we will give in until we’ve reached a pinnacle. Like
all the great duets in music and dance, we give each other the space to lead but also to battle. We began in a race to tease. Now
we’re in a race to finish.
We know each other so well. Her cues are there, which only enhance my desire. Our bodies roll in tandem waves until she
breaks into a series of cries of calling my name and spirit. I follow quickly behind her, holding her hips down so hard I fear
what color her skin may be in the morning.
As I try to catch my breath, Dylan slowly falls to my chest with her hair cascading over and between us. She snakes her arm
around and under my body. I allow my fingers to trail up and down every bump on her spine once again. My Viper shivers
against my skin. “Are you cold? I wouldn’t think you could be. That was fire.”
“No, I’m not cold.”
Her arms wrap tighter and tighter. I can feel her trying to hide her face in the crook of my neck. “You’re shaking.” Instinct
floods over and through me as I hold her close. “What is it?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That this wasn’t real. We’d finish and I’d wake up and you wouldn’t be here.”
“Your dream?”
“I saw your accident. I saw your body roll, tumble, and flip like a rag doll. I ran to you and took your helmet off. At first
there wasn’t a face there. Then it was me all cut and bloody. It makes zero sense, but it scared me.”
I close my eyes and process what she’s just confessed. Sometimes you can’t wash the memories away. No matter how hard
you try, they’re as fresh and real as if it’s happening all over again. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that when I was on the road
to recovery, she would be too.
Sometimes the effects of a trauma like that stay with you for months or in many cases years. “What can I do, Dylan? I’ll do
anything.”
She sighs. “I don’t know. But this,” she turns her head to rest her lips against me, “this is a good start.”
 Chapter Three

ELIJAH

I slept soundly for quite a while. There are some nights where we sleep completely independent of each other so I can watch
her. Tonight was not one of those nights.
She wanted to sleep tucked against my body and I wanted her just as close. Since we spent so many nights where we weren’t
able to touch, these nights have become a gift. Dylan hasn’t moved in hours. Her breathing is deep and even. That too is a gift.
I’ve gone back and forth in my mind about her nightmare. I know that kind of nightmare. I haven’t told her about the times I
wake up in the middle of the accident and realize I’m here with her. It’s not that I don’t want to share with her but if yesterday
taught me anything, it’s that I’m right and she’s hiding more than she admits to.
Feeling us take steps forward, I hope will heal her. I know it will heal me. She’s got her audition. She’s done the biggest
thing for me by agreeing to be my wife. Graduation is on the horizon. However, there are two shoes left to drop and they are
inexplicably woven.
Her left hand rests across my chest. Gigi’s ring shines up at me. I try to silently give her my hand to hold, hoping that it will
give her the extra comfort I know she needs. “How early is it?” she whispers with the sexy tone I’m lucky to have greet me
every morning.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
“Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I can feel the tiny corners of her mouth turn up.
“Far from it. I’d like to return the favor.”
Dylan turns her chin to my chest and looks up at me through her stunningly long lashes. “You would?”
“Yes, but not in the way you mean. At least not immediately.”
“Shit. I thought I heard you thinking. Okay, Sawyer. Lay it on me.”
“We have some hurdles to face soon.”
“No track and field for you, Goose. Both feet on the ground at all times for a while.”
I laugh. “I’m serious and just to correct you, I did fine with no feet on the ground last night. Just saying.”
“You absolutely did. Shouldn’t we at least have coffee before this takes a turn for the serious?”
“I’ll make you a seven course breakfast if you’ll just have this conversation with me.”
“Seven courses? Wow. This must be serious.”
“Look. Your dream really affected me. Not so much the content but the terror you woke up with. Bottom line is that I will do
anything and everything to keep you from that look and feeling. We have to face what’s next together.”
“What’s next, Eli?”
“I don’t want to hide us from the world any longer. I’m proud I’m going to marry you. However, there are two key sets of
people that need to know our reality.”
“Who’s that? You brought anyone that would need to know with you to witness my hot mess express.”
“Don’t say that. You were the freest I've ever seen you. It was beautiful.” I pull her hand to my lips for a soft kiss to cushion
the next words from my mouth. “First, we need to talk to your parents.”
“Jesus, Eli. You want to go there already? Can’t we just enjoy this for ourselves right now?”
“We can, but here’s the consequence of doing that. If your parents, especially your father, find out that not only did you not
tell him you’re working for the enemy, but you’re sleeping with and marrying him too, there could be a few landmines we
won’t be able to sidestep.”
Dylan’s breathing becomes so shallow I start to wonder if it’s stopped. She slowly pushes away from my body to sit at my
side. Her chin hides down as she stretches out her neck before she tilts her head to look at me. Her blonde locks frame her face
in the wildest of ways. I slide my fingers up and over her ear to tuck a bit of it away so I can see her eyes.
“Will I still be working for you?”
 “That choice is yours. I told you that. We can work out an agreement that will allow you to be on the team for the project that
you’re the heart of. That aside, we are your father’s competitor. You’ve told him, in no uncertain terms, you did not want any
part of his world.”
“I still don’t.”
“I know. I do, but he will see this as a play at first. I know Paul through business. Me suddenly becoming the son-in-law is
not a punch he’ll see coming. That will be about me. I don’t want him to take that out on you.”
“If I’ve learned anything from watching my father, he does what he wants. He’s made himself a prestigious career out of
doing just that.”
“What I don’t want is for him to find out some other way and come after AnSa. That will only antagonize the board, which is
a whole other issue in and of itself.”
Dylan rests her hand back on my chest. “I’ve been so caught up in my head I didn’t think that far. Could you lose your
position because of me?”
I reach up and gently skim the side of her face. “No. We don’t have a policy written prohibiting workplace relationships.
However, I don’t think it’s ever been an issue until now. At least no one’s brought anything to my father or myself.”
“You’ve worked so hard for what you’ve achieved, Eli. You were born to do what you’re doing as much as I am for dance. I
don’t want that taken away from you because of me, because of us.”
“Stop it. It won’t. I don’t want this to sound like it’s going to come out, but since the accident my filter has skewed anyway.
My family owns the company. If my father and grandfather back this, even if the stakeholders raise an issue, I don’t think
anything will come of it.
“I just want to be upfront and honest, like I’ve always been with them. I want my staff to know that favoritism has not and
will not play into this. You’ve earned everything you’ve gotten at the office, regardless of any late-night boardroom meetings.”
Dylan tries not to laugh but that venture fails quickly. “One time. Technically it was only foreplay in the boardroom, and we
brought the main event home.”
“True, but what a meeting it was. Seriously, Dylan,” I pause long enough to take her hand again, “call your parents and set up
a time to talk. We can go to them. I’m going to be your husband. I owe your father that respect.”

Dylan

It takes me two days to make the call to my parents. My mother and father tag teamed the phone conversation. First came my
mom. She was on the way back from yoga. I’d caught her in the car. She couldn’t stop talking about her session today and how
calm she feels. I hope that mood will last.
She handed her cell off to my dad while she was off-loading her gear in the mud room. I could hardly hear him over the
cabinet doors slamming and the dog barking. My father is suspicious by nature, which I could hear loud and proud in his voice
saying, “Sure, you should come for dinner.”
I never ask for this and when I do I usually ask to meet near campus so the out for rehearsal or to simply run into someone I
know to allow me to make a quick exit is an option. I’m sure they think this is going to be another fight about dance and my
options after graduation. Well, at least this time, they’re not wrong.
I’m glad there’s a midweek gridlock on I-495. It gives me time to breathe. Nerves are not a thing when I’m on stage. I love
the lights, the feel of my costumes, and the sound of the music. Where there’s music, there’s life. Eli knows this about me. Just
like on the way to Vermont, he gives me control of the radio.
I let the sounds of metal try and vibrate the nerves I feel from my body as we ride on. As traffic opens and we’re able to
drive faster, I can sense my anxiety build, no matter what I do, the closer we get to Circle Drive. I watch the GPS tick down the
miles and the minutes until it’s spouting that we’ve reached our destination.
Eli parks at the end of the long brick path leading to the door. With the push of a button, the car is silent. He reaches over and
takes my hand. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you. We’re going to do this together.”
“I literally feel sick. I have an awful feeling this will be a disaster.”
“If it is, I’ll get you out of there and we’ll move on. I’ve already decided your parents will either accept what we have to
say, or they won’t. Honestly, I don’t give a shit either way. I’ll be your family. My family will be your family.”
“I love this protector vibe you’ve got going on. It’s really fucking sexy.”
“Then you can consider this dinner as a literal lane to dessert. Now, let’s do this.” Eli leans in and kisses me with a soft
confidence that almost makes me believe we’ll walk out of here tonight without a fight.
His strong hand settles in the small of my back as we walk those last paved steps to the front door. After a few deep breaths
outside, I punch in the code to the lock and the door opens with a double beep from the alarm system. Close behind is the click-
clack of paws on the hardwood floor.
Jester, our golden retriever, comes barreling around the corner from the living room. He wriggles and wiggles between Eli
and me, trying to get all the scritches and love he can. “Hey, Jester. What’s going on, boy? Huh? Did you miss me?”
“Did you just call him Jester?”
“I love call signs just as much as you, Goose.” I giggle.
“Dylan? Is that you?” my mother calls from the kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me.”
I rise from Jester and stand with my hands balancing my weight on the foyer table. Mom’s white orchids are in bloom. I can’t
believe she finally made one last. Eli is still kneeling behind me, becoming fast friends with the dog. At least Jester likes him.
That’s one down.
“I sent your father out for fresh bread from that bakery you like so much,” she says as she emerges from the kitchen. “It will
go well with the grilled chicken penne.”
As she crosses to give me a hug, Eli rises from behind the shield of my body. “Mom, this is Elijah Sawyer. Eli, this is my
mother Margaret Cooper.”
Eli extends his right hand to her, with his left returning to the small of my back. “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the
name, Mrs. Cooper.”
The shock on her face is as bright as the sun coming in the windows. She reaches out to take his hand. “Nice to meet you too.
I wasn’t aware you were bringing a guest, darling.”
“Yeah. That was sort of the point. Mom, can we go in the living room and talk before Dad gets back?”
“Normally when you want to talk without him here, you want me to help you tell him something. Is that what we have going
on? Wait. Did you say your last name was Sawyer?”
“Yes, ma’am. My father is Jackson Sawyer.”
I watch the light go on in my mother’s eyes as she begins to piece everything together. “Why don’t you call me, Maggie?
Dylan, will you lead Elijah to the living room? I think I need wine for this.”
My shoulders roll forward as I hear her in the kitchen twisting the bottles around in the wine refrigerator. Eli gently pulls me
along to our oversized sectional along the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the house. The windows are cracked to let in
a cool breeze. There’s room enough for three adults to lie down on the cushions. At this point, I’m praying it doesn’t come to
that.
Eli takes his position on my left, only sitting once my mother returns with a tray, four glasses, and an open bottle of white that
I could easily sink to the bottom of. I’ve gone over about a thousand ways at lightning speed in my brain about how to begin.
My mother, however, beats me to the punch.
“I read in the news that you were in an accident a few weeks ago. I trust you’re healing well?”
“I am. Thank you. I’ll return to the office at the beginning of the week part time, then as I readjust, I’ll increase my hours. I
wouldn’t be as far along with my recovery if it had not been for your daughter. She’s taken good care of me.”
I wind my arm underneath Eli’s, sliding my hand along the top of his thigh. The sleeve of my chunky cardigan slips up from
my fingertips, bunching back to my knuckles, exposing the sparkle of my diamonds against the rich navy of Eli’s pants.
“What is that? Dylan? What’s that on your hand?” She pauses as she stares between us. “You’re getting married? I know you
find the music of Romeo and Juliet a favorite, but for God’s sake.”
“Stop, Mom. Just stop, please. Can’t you tell this is hard for me? For us? I was hoping you could for once be happy that I’m
happy.”
“How did this happen? You said you didn’t have any room for anything but dance. At least that’s what you always told us.”
My voice instantly raises an octave. “How did this happen?! Right, because why would anyone want to commit to me?”
Eli holds his left hand up. “Okay. Take a breath. Do you want me to answer that? I can. I can tell you exactly how it
happened.” My head rests against my right hand in defeat. Eli looks to me for permission to continue. I give him a nod so he
knows he has it.
“Your question of how this happened has a backstory, which I’ll save until we’re all together. What I can tell you now is that
Dylan is the best thing that could have happened to me. She’s not only beautiful, but she’s also talented, brilliant, caring beyond
words, and loving beyond measure.
“We met in a combination of ordinary and extraordinary circumstances. She’s my right hand, my best hand. I’m lucky to have
her woven into all aspects of my life and family. I would like your blessing and that’s what I’m here to seek.”
“I know your family and my husband are not at war per se, but this will be a tough sell.”
I grip Eli’s hand so tight, he has to lay his other hand over the top to subtly remove my fingers from his skin. “Mom, I have a
plan for my life. Now that plan includes Eli. It includes his family. They’ve been nothing but kind and supportive in every way.
I care about them and they care about me.”
My mother begins to gently roll the stem of her glass between her fingers as she settles back farther in her chair. I didn’t
mean what I said to be a slap in her face, but I can tell she took it just that way. “So, they know about you? You’ve spent a great
deal of time with them it seems.”
In that moment, the door from the garage opens then the double beep echoes in the house once more. I can hear the soles of
my father’s shoes step closer and closer. “Maggie? Whose car is that out front? Did Dylan catch a ride with a friend?”
“You could say that. We’re in here, Paul.”
Eli turns his head and stares deep into my eyes. We have an entire conversation in less than two seconds.
I’m scared.
I know.
I want to run.
We’re going to stay, and it will be fine. I promise.
My father tosses his keys on the foyer table as he makes his way to my mother’s voice, with Jester trotting along at his side.
His looming shadow turns the corner in the room just as Elijah rises, his body partially shielding mine but allowing me to see
the smile fade to shock on my father’s face.
“Hello, Paul.”
“Well. This is a surprise. I’d like to say what are you doing here, but the math seems simple. How deep are you in, Dylan?”
I rise to Eli’s side as I slide my hand down into his. “Don’t be rude, Daddy.”
It’s Eli’s turn to squeeze my hand. When I did it, it was to draw strength to talk at all. His is all about maintaining control.
“Paul, Dylan and I came here out of respect for you and your wife. We wanted to have a conversation about a few things so you
wouldn’t hear it another way.”
My mother also rises to my father’s side. She threads her arm around his. I’m not sure if that move is to mirror us or to hold
him back from doing something potentially stupid. “Do you want to tell him or should I?” she asks.
“Tell me what?” I can nearly hear his jaw click from the six feet we’re standing apart.
“Paul, I’ve asked Dylan to marry me. She’s made me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”
My father ignores Eli completely and addresses me. “You don’t come home for nine months, then you show up here today
saying you’re getting married to the son of my biggest business rival? Did you really think this would go well?”
“Actually, Daddy, I hoped that for once you’d listen to me when I’d say something makes me happy. I wish all the time that
you’ll tell me how proud I make you and you trust my judgment.”
“Paul, I want to have an honest discussion about how we got here and how we move forward. If that’s not something you’re
interested in, I’ll take Dylan home and we’ll plan our future without you. I love her and because I love her, we’re here to bring
us together. If you can’t, I won’t let you hurt her anymore.
“She is thriving in all aspects of her life. Graduating with highest honors. A job that will work with her to find the right
balance between it and her desire to dance in a company, the company of her dreams. That audition is on the horizon. We
haven’t set a wedding date yet, but I don’t intend on waiting long.
“So, with great respect, I ask you for your blessing. Just know whether you give it or not, as long as Dylan will have me, I
will be her partner in business, in life, and in love.”
He’s said all these things to me before but when he looks at my parents, especially my father, and says them again, it hits my
soul differently. My father is used to owning every room he enters. Today, right now, Eli fills the space, and I couldn’t be
prouder to be by his side.
Eli inspires me to say things to my parents I’ve never had the courage to articulate. “Mom, Dad…I know you’ve never been
a fan of my dancing the way I do. Mom, I know you wanted me to be a prima ballerina. Daddy, you didn’t understand it at all.
Just because I want something different doesn’t make it any less.
“I found Eli because of dance. He’s supported me every step of every routine. He understands my passion and drive. Those
were the key things that led him to offer me an internship at AnSa this year. I got to lead a project for a friend of his, an NHL
player. I helped shape how his entire Foundation will be rebranded. They’re even letting me run a portion of it.
“Me. I did that. I earned that. Just like I earned, by my bloodied feet and broken-down body, a chance to be accepted into the
dance company I’ve wanted to be in since I was fourteen. I’m stronger now than I ever have been. How I got here sucked but I
wouldn’t want to give it back. I’m right where I should be. Please, Daddy. Please accept me, accept us.”
The silence in the room when I finish is not only deafening but I feel like it lingers forever. My mom stands very still, with
her fingers resting lightly on her lips. Her eyes gloss over ever so slightly as she angles herself, waiting on my father’s
reaction.
He looks down at the floor where Jester is sitting at his feet. My father slides his hands into his pants pockets, taking three
steps forward toward us. My instinct draws me close into Eli’s side. My father settles into his stance before us and looks up to
meet Eli’s eyes.
“So, is she that direct and convincing in the boardroom?”
“That and then some. She’s one of the most brilliant interns we’ve had in five years.”
“Elijah,” my father pauses, “you’ve got the guts of your grandfather and a way with words like your father.”
 “Thank you, sir. I definitely take that as a compliment.”
My father takes his right hand from his pocket, extending it to me. “Let me see this ring of yours.”
The tremors in my fingers are evident as I lay them down in his open palm. My father slowly rotates my hand from left to
right, letting the sunshine make my ring glow. “This is quite beautiful, Dylan… just like you. Congratulations, sweetheart.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Fig. A. A Triassic Ancestor of the Crocodilia.
From Parker & Haswell, Textbook of Zoölogy.

The direct ancestors of the Crocodilia, Gadow says, are still

unknown.

Geographical Distribution
As will be seen by examination of the table (p. 2) from Ditmars,
and of Figure 1, the recent Crocodilia are found in all of the great
continental areas except Europe; mainly in the tropical or subtropical
regions.

Fig. 1. Map Showing Present Distribution of Crocodilia.

(After Gadow.)

The alligator is found in the southwestern United States and in

China.
The crocodile is the most numerous in species and is the most
widely distributed of the group. It is especially characteristic of Africa
and Madagascar, but is found also in Florida, Mexico, Central and
South America, the West Indies, South Asia, the East Indies, and
Australia.
 The gavial is found in India and some of the islands of the Orient,
especially Borneo and Sumatra.
The caiman occurs in southern Mexico, Central and South
America.

Fig. 2. Heads of American Alligator and American Crocodile; Alligator on

Left. (After Ditmars.)
(Reproduced by Permission of Sturgis & Walton Co.)

The distribution of individual forms will be mentioned again when

they are discussed in detail.

Alligator Mississippiensis
 Since this animal, generally known as the American or the Florida
alligator (formerly A. lucius), is the one upon which most of the facts
of this book are based, it will be discussed first.
At this point it may be well to answer the question that is sure to
be asked by someone early in any conversation upon the Crocodilia.
The writer, and doubtless every other zoölogist, has been asked
countless times, “What is the difference between an alligator and a
crocodile?” As a matter of fact there is, perhaps, no absolute
distinction between the two groups, but there are certain features
that make it easy to distinguish, say, between the American alligator
and the American crocodile.
The most striking difference is in the outline of the head; the
alligator has a broad, rounded snout, while that of the crocodile is
narrower and more pointed (Fig. 2). Again, in the crocodile the fourth
tooth from the front projects slightly outwards and fits into a notch in
the side of the upper jaw, while in the alligator (also in the caiman)
the corresponding tooth on each side fits into a socket in the upper
jaw and hence is hidden, except in some old animals with very long
teeth, in which it may pierce the upper jaw and show from above.
According to Ditmars, the crocodile has, as a rule, larger and more
exposed teeth than the alligator. Finally, as will be brought out later,
the crocodile is usually more quick and active, and also more
vicious, than the alligator.
Very young alligators are nearly black, with distinct, yellow cross
bands; as they grow older these markings become less distinct until
in maturity the animals are of a uniform gray or dirty black color.
Habitat. The American alligator is found in the rivers and
swamps of the Southern States, from the southern part of North
Carolina to the Rio Grande, though Florida is usually thought of as
being the region in which they particularly abound. Years ago, before
the rifle of the ubiquitous tourist and so-called sportsman had gotten
in its deadly work, the alligators were probably very abundant in the
Southern States; but they have been so ruthlessly destroyed by
native hunters for their skins, and by others for mere wanton sport,
that one may travel, perhaps, for days along the rivers of the South
without seeing a single ’gator.
 The account quoted by Clarke from Bartram’s travels of more than
one hundred years ago, while probably exaggerated, gives an idea
of the abundance of the alligators at that time: “The rivers at this
place from shore to shore, and perhaps near a half mile above and
below me, appeared to be one solid bank of fish of various kinds,
pushing through the narrow pass of San Juans into the little lake on
their return down the river, and the alligators were in such incredible
numbers, and so close together from shore to shore, that it would
have been easy to have walked across their heads, had the animals
been harmless.” At the present time it is usually necessary to travel
far from the usual routes of the Northern tourists to find alligators in
any abundance.
At Palm Beach, Florida, lived, a few years ago, and probably still
lives, a well-known hunter and guide, “Alligator Joe.” Just what
nationality he may be is difficult to determine, but that he knows that
trackless waste, the Everglades, at least in the region of Palm
Beach, is evident. He has an “alligator farm” near the great hotels of
that famous winter resort, at which he keeps, or did a few years ago,
a large number of alligators of all sizes, as well as a number of
crocodiles. For a consideration (by no means a modest one) he
would take out a party of tourists for a day into the Everglades,
guaranteeing that he would find an alligator for them to shoot. It was
rumored by the natives that an accomplice was always sent ahead to
free the alligator at the psychological moment, after the hunters had
been paddled by a devious course to the selected spot, but whether
this were true or not the writer was not able to determine. It is true,
however, that he and the writer paddled in a rather graceful canoe,
dug out of a single cypress log, and waded through the Everglades
for several days, searching for alligator eggs, and that we found only
one nest and saw only one or two alligators (Fig. 3).
Doubtless in more remote parts of the Everglades the alligators
are much more numerous.
During another summer the writer, with a guide, penetrated the
very center of the State, to the region southeast of Lake Kissimmee,
forty miles from the nearest railroad; here the alligators, and in
consequence their nests, are fairly abundant, though the native
hunters are, even in this remote region, rapidly thinning their ranks.
 A still greater number of alligators was found, the following
summer, in the Okefinokee Swamp in southern Georgia. In the
center of this great waste, ten miles or more from dry land, nearly
one hundred alligators, ranging from about four to eight feet in
length, were killed within a week by a small party of native hunters
with whom the writer was traveling (Fig. 4).
Whether this wholesale destruction by sportsman and native
hunter will eventually exterminate our giant reptile, as has been the
case with the buffalo and other game animals, it is impossible to say.
Unless the Everglades and the Okefinokee are largely drained it
seems probable that a few alligators will always remain in the most
inaccessible regions.
Fig. 3. Alligator Joe in the Everglades.
(From a Photograph by the Author.)
 Fig. 4. Alligator Hunter in the Okefinokee.
(From a Photograph by the Author.)

The collection of eggs for sale and for hatching purposes, as well
as their destruction for food by bears and other animals, will also
tend towards the annihilation of the species in the course of time.
The economic importance of the alligator will be discussed later.
While in the old days, as has been said, the alligator was common
in the larger rivers and lakes, and may even have ventured short
distances into salt water, he must now frequently be satisfied to hide
his great body in a “’gator hole” that is scarcely more than a puddle.
These “holes” (Fig. 7) are common in central Florida and are
sometimes scarcely large enough to allow the alligator to dive into
them to seek the underground cave in which he hides. It is on the
edge of such a hole that the nest is built, as will be described later.
 Often from a small swamp or slough alligator “trails” lead off in
different directions. These trails are narrow, winding gullies such as
might be made by cattle in a damp pasture. If followed from the main
slough the trail will usually be found to end in a “hole,” in which an
alligator will probably be found (Fig. 7). In a great swamp like the
Everglades or the Okefinokee such holes would naturally not be
found.
On one side of the hole is usually a smooth place where the
vegetation is worn away; it is here that the ’gator “pulls out” to sleep
in the sun; and wary must the hunter be to approach within sight of
the animal before being seen or heard by him. At the first alarm he
slides quietly or plunges quickly into the muddy water, and the hunter
must wait long if he expects to see the ’gator come to the surface.
The opening of the cave is always below the surface of the water,
but it is possible that there may be a subterranean chamber that is
not completely filled with water. How the animal is gotten from his
cave will be described later. According to some writers the alligator
retires to his cave to hibernate during the cooler winter months. This
is possibly true in the more northerly limits of his range. It is well
known that if kept in cool water the alligator will lie dormant and
refuse all food for months at a time. The writer has had young
alligators in captivity, under these conditions, that refused food from
late in the autumn until nearly the first of April.
The proprietor of one of the largest alligator farms in the country
says: “Our alligators stop eating the first week in October and do not
begin to eat until the latter part of April. We have experimented with
our stock to see if we could get them to eat in the winter, and found
that by keeping the water in the tanks at a certain temperature they
would eat, but we found out that the warm water would make their
bowels move, and that they would not eat enough to keep
themselves up, as in the summer, and as a result they would
become very poor and thin, so we do not force them to eat any
more.” The effect upon the growth of an animal of these two
methods of feeding will be noted later when the age and rate of
growth are discussed. The same writer says, in answer to a question
about hibernation: “In their wild state they go into their dens under
water and remain dormant all winter.” Whether this statement is the
result of actual observation the writer is not able to say, but, judging
by some other statements from the same source, it is probably from
hearsay. The writer, having visited the alligator haunts only in late
spring and summer, has had no opportunity of studying the habits of
the animal in its natural habitat during the winter season. During the
heat of summer the animal does not seek the sun as he is said to do
during cooler weather, but spends more time on the bank at night
and during the cooler parts of the day.
That he sometimes wanders over dry land, perhaps going from
hole to hole, is evident from the tracks that are sometimes seen
crossing a dusty road or path. These trails are easily recognized by
the clawed footprints with a line, made by the dragging tail, between
them. Although most awkward on land, he can, if necessary, move
very quickly. It is, however, in the water that he shows to best
advantage; he is an active, powerful swimmer, his tail being used as
a propeller as in the fishes. When swimming actively the legs are
held close against the body in order that they may retard the
animal’s motion as little as possible. While swimming in a leisurely
way the top of the head is at the surface of the water, perhaps just
the nostrils and eyes projecting above the surface, so that the size of
the animal can be estimated by the distance between these
projecting points. One afternoon the writer and a guide, while
paddling along an old canal that was dug years ago into the
Okefinokee Swamp, were preceded for perhaps half a mile by a
large alligator that swam just fast enough to keep out of our reach
until he came to the place where he wanted to turn off into the
swamp.
Although so awkward on land, the alligator is said to be able to
defend himself very effectively with his tail, which he sweeps from
side to side with sufficient force, in the case of a large specimen, to
knock a man off his feet. Although the writer has seen captured and
helped to capture alive several alligators up to eight feet in length he
has never seen this vigorous use of the tail as a weapon of defense.
While the alligator, like most other wild animals, will doubtless
defend itself when cornered, it will always flee from man if possible,
and the writer has frequently waded and swam in ponds and lakes
where alligators lived without the least fear of attack. This might not
have been possible years ago when the animals were more
numerous and had not been intimidated by man and his weapons.
Food. The food of the adult alligator consists of fishes, birds,
mammals, and possibly smaller individuals of its own species. The
young eat small fish, frogs, insects, or worms.
If the animal be too large to swallow whole it is shaken and torn,
the shaking being so vigorous that, according to Ditmars, the entrails
of the prey may be thrown to a distance of twenty feet or more.
Should two alligators seize the same prey at the same time they
whirl about in opposite directions so violently that the prey is torn
apart. This action may be illustrated by giving two small captive
alligators a piece of tough meat; they hold on with bulldog tenacity,
and each, folding its legs close to its body, will use its tail like a
propeller until the animal whirls around with remarkable speed. The
commotion that two ten-foot alligators would cause when thus
struggling can easily be imagined. That a large alligator, if it tried,
could easily drag under the water and drown a man or possibly a
much larger animal is evident.
While the alligator has a valve-like fold of skin in its throat that
enables it to open its mouth and crush its prey under water, it is said
that it must raise its head above water in order to swallow its food. A
young alligator on land will usually throw back its head when trying to
swallow a large piece of meat, so that it may be simply this motion
that brings the head of the alligator above the surface of the water.
Ditmars thus describes the fate of a dog that approached too near
a very large alligator: “As a dog, weighing about fifty pounds,
unwarily approached the edge of this creature’s tank, it was
suddenly grasped and before completing its first yelp of terror was
dragged beneath the surface. A few minutes later the twelve-foot
saurian appeared at the top, holding the dead canine in its jaws. The
dog was shifted about, amid the sound of breaking bones, and
swallowed head first, and entire, after a few gulps.”
Size and Growth. Although, years ago, alligators of fifteen feet
length may have been common in favorable localities in the South, it
is probable that few if any such monsters now exist. A twelve-foot
alligator, owing to its great girth, is a huge animal and but few of this
size are to be found in captivity. The largest specimen the writer has
ever seen is the one in the Bronx Zoo, which is barely thirteen feet in
length. At hatching the alligator is about eight inches in length.
Clarke (17) says: “The largest specimen I saw measured twelve
feet in length; and none of the many hunters and natives of Florida I
have met have seen any longer than thirteen feet. All the hunters
agree that it is only the males that acquire the great size; no one had
ever seen a female that measured over eight feet, and the majority
are not over seven. The male has a heavier, more powerful head,
and during the breeding season especially is more brilliantly
colored.”
It is a very common belief, even among those who should be most
familiar with their habits, that the growth of the alligator is remarkably
slow, so that a large specimen may be described by the exhibitor as
more than a century old. The same dealer in alligators quoted above
says upon this subject: “You can figure about two inches a year to
their growth.” He also says: “We judge that an alligator about twenty-
five to thirty years old will breed.” Even scientific writers of reputation
have not been free from this error in their writings. That the alligator
may live to an extreme age, as seems to be true of some of the
tortoises, is quite possible, and it is probable that after reaching a
length of twelve or fifteen feet the growth is very slow.
In captivity, when kept in warm water and other favorable
conditions, the alligator will grow, according to measurements taken
at the New York Zoölogical Park, at the rate of about one foot a year,
for about the first ten years. Under unfavorable conditions the growth
may be exceedingly slow. Under favorable conditions in nature the
rate of growth may exceed that given above.
Instead of requiring twenty-five to thirty years to reach sexual
maturity, as quoted above, it is likely that the female may lay eggs at
five to ten years, though such a fact is difficult to determine of
animals in their native haunts.
Voice. The alligator, unlike most other members of its class, the
Ophidia, Chelonia, and Lacertilia, has a voice, which, in an adult bull,
may be heard for a mile or more. This bellowing is difficult to
describe; it is something between a moan and a roar, and may be to
attract the opposite sex or to serve as a challenge to other large
animals. It is usually ascribed to the male, but whether confined to
him or not the writer is unable to say.
In younger animals the voice is, of course, less deep and in very
young individuals it is a squeak or grunt, easily imitated by hunters
for the purpose of luring the animals from their hiding places.
Breeding Habits. Judging from the statements of native hunters
the laying season of the alligator might be thought to be at any time
from January to September. As a matter of fact the month of June is
the time when most, if not all, of the eggs are laid. S. F. Clarke gives
June 9th and June 17th as the limits of the laying season in Florida,
but I found at least one nest in which eggs were laid as late as June
26th: no eggs were found before the first date given by Clarke. It
seemed quite certain that the laying, during the season in question,
had been delayed by an extreme drought that had dried up the
smaller swamps and reduced the alligator holes to mere puddles.
Nests were found in considerable numbers as early as June 8th, but
no eggs were laid in any of them until the end of the dry period which
occurred nearly two weeks later. Almost immediately after the
occurrence of the rains that filled up the swamps eggs were
deposited in all of the nests at about the same time. From the fact
that all of these completed nests had stood for so long a time without
eggs, and from the fact that all of the eggs from these nests
contained embryos in a well-advanced state of development, it
seemed evident that the egg-laying had been delayed by the
unusually dry weather. Eggs taken directly from the oviducts of an
alligator that was killed at this time also contained embryos that had
already passed through the earlier stages of development. Thus it
was that the earliest stages of development were not obtained during
this summer.
It is said that during the mating season, which precedes by some
time, of course, the laying season, the males are noisy and
quarrelsome, and that they exhibit sexual characteristics of color by
which they may be distinguished from the females. Never having
been in the alligator country at this season, the writer has made no
personal observations along these lines, but from the frequency with
which alligators with mutilated or missing members are found it is
evident that fierce encounters must sometimes take place, whatever
the cause. During June and July, at least, and probably during most
of the year, the alligators are very silent, an occasional bellow during
the very early morning hours being the only audible evidence that
one has that the big reptiles are in the neighborhood. Whatever may
be the sexual differences during the mating season, at ordinary
times the two sexes are so much alike that I have, on more than one
occasion, seen experienced hunters disagree as to the supposed
sex of an alligator that had just been killed.
Although I have never seen a nest actually during the process of
construction, it is easy to imagine, after the examination of a large
number of freshly made nests, what the process must be like.
The alligator, probably the female, as the male, after the mating
season, takes no interest whatever in the propagation of his species,
selects a slight elevation on or near the bank of the “hole” in which
she lives. This elevation is generally, though not always, a sunny
spot, and is frequently at the foot of a small tree or clump of bushes.
Where the alligator is living in a large swamp she may have to go a
considerable distance to find a suitable location for her nest; when
her hole is scarcely more than a deep, overgrown puddle, as is often
the case in the less swampy regions, she may find a good nesting
place within a few feet of her cave. That the female alligator stays in
the neighborhood of her nest after she has filled it with eggs seems
pretty certain, but that she defends it from the attacks of other
animals is extremely doubtful: certainly man is in very little danger
when he robs the nest of the alligator, and, according to the
statement of reliable hunters, bears are very persistent searchers for
and eaters of alligator eggs. Having selected (with how much care it
is impossible to say) the location for the nest, the alligator proceeds
to collect, probably biting it off with her teeth, a great mass of
whatever vegetation happens to be most abundant in that immediate
vicinity. This mass of flags or of marsh grass is piled into a conical or
rounded heap and is packed down by the builder repeatedly crawling
over it.
Fig. 5. A Nest of C. Porosus: Palawan, P. I.
(From a Photograph by Rowley.)
 Fig. 6.—Jackson Slough; near Lake Kissimmee, Florida.
In the vicinity of this pond several alligator nests were found, either within a few
yards of the edge, or on the banks of smaller “holes” which were connected with
the larger pond by narrow “trails.” (From a Photograph by the Author.)

There is a great deal of variation in the size and form of the

different nests, some being two meters or more in diameter and
nearly a meter in height, while others are much smaller in diameter
and so low as to seem scarcely more than an accidental pile of dead
vegetation. It is probable that the nests are under construction for
some time, perhaps to give time for the fresh vegetation of which
they are composed to ferment and soften, and also for the material
to settle into a more compact mass. The compactness of the
alligator’s nest was well illustrated one day when the writer used an
apparently deserted nest as a vantage ground from which to take a
photograph: on opening this nest it was found, after all, to contain
eggs, and though some of the eggs were cracked, none of them
were badly crushed. This nest although it was so low and flat that it
was thought to be one that had been used during some previous
season, contained forty-eight eggs, a greater number than was
found in any other nest; while in other nests that were twice as large
as this one were found less than half as many eggs, showing that
there is no relation between the size of the nest and the number of
eggs. The average number of eggs per nest, in the twelve nests that
were noted, was thirty-one. One observer reported a nest that
contained sixty eggs, but this, if true, was a very unusual case.
Reports of still larger numbers of eggs in one nest probably refer to
crocodiles, which are said to lay one hundred or more eggs in a nest.
Although crocodiles may be found in certain parts of Florida, the
writer has had no opportunity of observing their nesting habits.
The eggs are laid in the nest without any apparent arrangement.
After the nest has been prepared, and has had time to settle
properly, the alligator scrapes off the top, and lays the eggs in a hole
in the damp, decaying vegetation; the top of the nest is again
rounded off, and it is impossible to tell, without examination, whether
the nest contains eggs or not.
As to whether the same nest is used for more than one season
there is a difference of opinion among alligator hunters, and the
writer has had no opportunity of making personal observations.
 Fig. 7. A Typical ’gator “Hole.”
Only a few yards across, and surrounded by a dense growth of vegetation. On
the far side is seen an opening in the surrounding grass and flags where the
ground is worn smooth by the alligator in crawling out of the hole. Under the bank,
probably near the place where the alligator “pulls out,” is the deep cave into which
the inhabitant of this hole quickly goes on the approach of danger. As this cave
may be fifteen or twenty feet deep it is not an easy matter to get the animal out.
When a female alligator inhabits such a hole, a nest may often be found within
three or four yards of the water, though it is sometimes at a greater distance. Such
a hole as this may be connected by narrow, winding “trails” with larger ponds, as
noted under Fig. 6. (From a Photograph by the Author.)

While it is usually stated that the eggs are incubated by the heat of
the sun, it is held by some observers that the necessary heat is
derived not from the sun but from the decomposition of the vegetable
matter of which the nest is composed. Possibly heat may be derived
from both of these sources, but it seems likely that the conditions
that are especially favorable to normal incubation are moisture and
an even, though not necessarily an elevated, temperature. Moisture
is certainly a necessary condition, as the porous shell allows such
rapid evaporation that the egg is soon killed if allowed to dry. The
inside of the nest is always damp, no matter how dry the outside
may become under the scorching sun, so that this condition is fully
met. The eggs of the Madagascar crocodile, according to
Voeltzkow,[3] offer a marked contrast to those of the alligator. Instead
of being laid in damp nests of decaying vegetation, they are laid in
holes that are dug in the dry sand, and are very sensitive to
moisture, the early stages, especially, being soon killed by the least
dampness. A crocodile’s nest containing eggs is shown in Figure 5.
In this species of crocodile, probably C. porosus, the nest resembles
that of the Florida alligator. The photograph was taken by Mr. Rowley
on the edge of a small lake on the Island of Palawan, P. I.
[3] Voeltzkow, A., “The Biology and Development of the Outer Form of the
Madagascar Crocodile,” Abhandl. Senckberg. Gesell., Bd. 26, Hft. I.

The daily range of temperature in the Southern swamps is

sometimes remarkably great, so that if the eggs were not protected
in some way they would often pass through a range of temperature
of possibly fifty degrees or more; while in the center of a great mass
of damp vegetation they are probably kept at a fairly constant
temperature. Unfortunately no thermometer was taken to the
swamps, so that no records of the temperatures of alligator nests
were obtained, but it was frequently noticed that when, at night or
very early in the morning, the hand was thrust deep into the center of
an alligator’s nest the vegetation felt decidedly warm, while in the
middle of the day, when the surrounding air was, perhaps, fifty
degrees (Fahrenheit) warmer than it was just before sunrise, the
inside of the same nest felt quite cool. It is probable, then, that the
conditions of temperature and moisture in the center of the nest are
quite uniform. One lot of eggs that had been sent from Florida to
Maryland continued to incubate in an apparently normal way when
packed in a box of damp sawdust, the temperature of which was
about 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Another lot of eggs continued to
incubate, until several young alligators were hatched, in the ordinary
incubator, at a temperature of about 95 degrees Fahrenheit.[4]
[4] Reese, A. M., “Artificial Incubation of Alligator Eggs,” Amer. Nat., March,
1901, pp. 193-195.

The fact that eggs taken directly from the oviducts of the cold-
blooded alligator contain embryos of considerable size seems to
indicate that no such elevation of temperature as is necessary with
avian eggs is necessary with the eggs of the alligator.

Fig. 8. A Typical Alligator’s Nest, Made Chiefly of Grass.

The guide is feeling for eggs without disturbing the outside of the nest. Being
made of the same material as the background, the nest does not stand out very
sharply, though in nature the contrast is somewhat more marked, owing to the fact
that the surrounding grass is green while the grass of which the nest is built is
dead and brown. (From a Photograph by the Author.)
 The complete process of incubation probably extends through a
period of about eight weeks, but no accurate observations along this
line could be made. For some hours previous to hatching the young
alligators make a curious squeaking sound inside the shell, that may
be heard for a distance of several yards: this sound may be for the
purpose of attracting the attention of the female alligator, who will
open the top of the nest in time to allow the just hatched alligators to
escape: unless thus rescued, it would seem impossible for the little
animals to dig their way out from the center of the closely packed
mass of decaying vegetation.
At the time of hatching the alligator is, as already noted, about
eight inches in length, and it seems impossible that it should have
been contained in so small an egg.
The size of alligator eggs, as might be expected, is subject to
considerable variation. In measuring the eggs a pair of brass calipers
was used, and the long and short diameters of more than four
hundred eggs were obtained. A number of eggs of average size,
when weighed in mass on the scales of a country store, gave an
average of 2.8 oz. per egg.
There was more variation in the long diameter of eggs than in the
short diameter.
The longest egg of all those measured was 85 mm.; the shortest
was 65 mm. The widest egg (greatest short diameter) was 50 mm.;
the narrowest egg (least short diameter) was 38 mm.
The average long diameter was 73.742 mm.; the average short
diameter was 42.588 mm.
The greatest variation in long diameter in any one nest of eggs
was 15.5 mm.; the greatest variation in short diameter in the eggs of
any one nest was 11 mm.
The average variation in the long diameter of the eggs from the
same nest was 11.318 mm.; the average variation in the short
diameter of the eggs from the same nest was 5.136 mm.
It will be seen from the above that the average variation in the long
diameter of eggs from the same nest is between one sixth and one
seventh of the long diameter of the average egg; while the average
variation in the short diameter of the eggs from the same nest is less
than one eighth of the short diameter of the average egg.