by D. R. Graham
“Oh, Billy, I’m sorry. I know you would have been a good daddy and I honestly would have been happy if I was pregnant with your child. What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?”
“Well, if Shae-Lynn were here she would convince me to forgive you just because it’s the decent thing to do, but thanks to you she’s not here. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for that.”
“You really love her, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She laughed in an unimpressed way. “She must be quite something in bed to rope you up the way she has.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t slept together.”
She frowned. “Then what makes her so special?”
“The way she makes me feel when I’m with her.”
She glared at me, jealous as hell, then turned and walked away.
A gate swung open behind me. Trent was on the other side of the pen. He reached up to toss hay in for his chuck horses. He made eye contact with me before he walked away. I stood by myself with the stock for a while before heading back towards Mutt’s camper.
When I rounded the corner by a supply shed, someone called my name. It was difficult to see in the dark, but a guy I didn’t recognize was standing behind Tawnie. His left arm was clamped around her neck and his right arm was holding a gun to her temple.
“Billy,” she whimpered.
The guy who was holding the gun to her head stepped back into the shadows. Three other thugs were leaning against the wall of the shed. I looked over my shoulder to see if anybody else was around who might be able to help me. “Whatever it is you want, the gun isn’t necessary.”
“Shut up.”
“Let her go.”
“No, I think we’ll hold on to her until we’re finished our business with you.”
“I don’t know you. I don’t have any business with you.”
“Oh, but you do.” The tallest guy who was standing closest to me grabbed the collar of my shirt and dragged me into the shadows.
I struggled with him, so a second, muscular guy stepped in and they both pinned me to the side of the shed. “What do you want?” I choked out as the tall guy’s fingers tightened around my throat.
“Shut up,” the tall guy grumbled. “If you make a sound, I’ll hurt blondie here in a way that I will thoroughly enjoy.”
I glanced at Tawnie. She was shaking.
He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. “Lyle wants to make sure you understand how the deal is going to work. I’m going to break your finger — not so bad that you can’t ride — just bad enough that you can’t win. If you drop out of the competition, we’ll break every bone in your body and hurt your other girlfriend in a way that I will also enjoy. Understood?” He pushed me to the ground and twisted my right arm behind my back.
I coughed to recover from the chokehold. “When I ride, my brother’s debt is completely erased, right?”
“As long as you get out of the chute.” He wrapped his hand around my pinkie finger and positioned it, ready to snap it sideways.
“All right. Do what you gotta do, but let her go first,” I said.
The guy who had Tawnie shoved her and pointed the gun at her. “Get.”
Her eyes locked with mine, so I nodded and she ran.
“He’s left-handed, Mike.” Blake stepped out from the shadows.
“What the hell, Blake?” I muttered through the pain.
“Shut up.”
I glared at him. “Can’t beat me fair and square?”
“I can. This has nothing to do with me. You screwed Mike out of a spot and he’s pissed.”
The tall guy, who was apparently Mike, twisted my left arm and pulled my finger sideways. It cracked loudly and the pain shot down the side of my hand. I groaned, then spit out, “Fuck you, Blake.”
Blake stomped on my left hand. It made me shout in pain and he laughed. “See you tomorrow.” He kicked me in the left shoulder before he walked away. The other guys followed him into the darkness and left me lying in the dirt.
Tawnie showed up with Mutt and all the other guys sprinting behind her. She knelt beside me. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
“Who did it?” Mutt asked, ready for a fight. He frowned and looked around. “It was Blake, wasn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. Tawnie turned my hand to look at the damage. The pinkie was sticking outwards at an unnatural angle.
“We should tip off the cops and take Wiese down,” Mutt said.
“We can’t. I need to ride tomorrow to get rid of Cole’s debt.”
“How are you going to ride with a broken riding hand?”
I looked at the ninety-degree angle of my finger. “Just push it back in. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m not pushing it back in. That’s nasty,” Mutt said.
“Tawnie. Push it back in for me.”
She shook her head, still traumatized. “I can’t. It’s going to hurt you.”
“I’ll do it,” a guy named Dewey said. He rushed over and without even hesitating, snapped it back into place.
I cursed so loud, the entire participants’ area probably heard. “God damn. That hurt.” My eyes watered from the pain.
“You should get some ice on it.” Tawnie helped me up. “I’ll take you back to the hotel.”
Lee-Anne was walking back from the pens and paused when she noticed us all crowded together. She glanced back and forth between Tawnie and me.
I stepped forward. “Where’s Shae-Lynn?”
“She thought it would be better if she didn’t come.” She eyeballed Tawnie with a bit of a sneer. “Apparently that was a good decision.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“I don’t care, Billy Ray. You’re free to do whatever you want,” she shouted over her shoulder as she walked away.
“Wait.” I jogged after her and pulled on her elbow to make her stop. “Tawnie’s not pregnant. We’re not together.”
She crossed her arms and stared me down. “I don’t think that changes anything. You’re still a chicken shit asshole who ran away when things got serious.”
I blinked hard, not sure how I could prove to her that I had changed.
She sighed and her voice softened. “What happened to your hand?”
I shook my head, not wanting to explain, since it only proved that nothing had changed. “Please tell Shae-Lynn that I’d like her to be here tomorrow.”
“No.” She strutted away.
When I turned around, I almost bumped into Tawnie. I forgot she was even there. “Bye Tawnie,” I mumbled. I left her standing there and made my way back to the hotel.
Room service brought me a bucket of ice, but my hand swelled up like a bullfrog’s chest. I taped the fingers together and took some painkillers and anti-inflammatories. Unfortunately, it just kept ballooning as the night progressed. I phoned Cole. He didn’t answer. Shae-Lynn didn’t answer either, so I closed my eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep.
Chapter 26
The only thing that had changed by the morning was that the swelling in my hand had turned bright red and my left shoulder was so stiff, I could barely put my shirt on. The event wasn’t for six hours and without Cole there to pass the time, I got really nervous. I called Shae-Lynn. She didn’t answer, so I texted her.
Tawnie was lying. I hired a nurse to take care of my mom. I can transfer to the University of Calgary and get a job here. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your dad’s respect. I ain’t never going to quit proving how much I love you, no matter how long it takes.
She didn’t respond.
When I arrived at the arena, Ron Miller took one look at my hand and shook his head. “You’re going to have to withdraw.”
“No. I can do it. It’s just a little swollen. It doesn’t hurt.”
“You can’t even stretch your glove over that watermelon. You’ll get hurt.”
“I’m riding even if you have to duct tape me to the bull.
”
“Don’t be an idiot. The reason your dad got tossed the day he was killed was because he tried to ride when he was injured. You know that, right?”
The information sunk in, and although I hadn’t known that, it didn’t change anything. I shook my head and attempted to curl my fingers around the rope.
“I don’t want you riding.”
I pushed my hat back and stared out over the arena. I thought about it for a while, then mumbled, “I have to do it.”
He put his hands up in surrender. “All right. Your brother’s up third and you’re sixth.”
“Have you seen Cole?”
“No, why? Is he more banged up than you?”
“He’s fine.” I pulled my hat back down over my eyes. “When’s Blake up?”
“Last.”
The crowd gathered in the grandstand. I searched the face of every girl. Lee-Anne and Rochelle sat in the first row, but Shae-Lynn wasn’t with them. Lyle and a posse of goons stood behind the chutes. He tipped his hat when he noticed me, and grinned as if he was looking forward to repayment of the loan in whichever form it came in.
The first two riders were PBR guys. One was thrown, and the other guy scored a ninety. When the announcer said that Cole was the next rider up, everyone behind the chutes shifted their attention to me. I scanned the arena, hoping to spot Cole. The bull was loaded, and Ron stood on the rail staring at me.
“Where is he?” he shouted.
I shrugged and swallowed down the acid that crept up my throat. Lee-Anne stood and shaded her eyes with her hand looking for him in the participants’ field. She made eye contact with me and shook her head to let me know she couldn’t see him.
“He has sixty seconds or we’re going to turn out,” Ron shouted.
I nodded and looked around again. They piped music through the speakers to entertain the crowd while we waited. Images of him dead in a ravine, under a rail bridge, splattered in a shed somewhere, drowned in Dad’s truck at the bottom of a lake, and lying on a motel bed with white foam bubbling out of his mouth all flashed through my mind.
Equal parts of panic, grief, rage, and relief swarmed around in my stomach and made me light-headed. Lyle pointed at me and winked. I leaned over and propped my hands on my knees to keep from falling down.
With about two seconds left, the crowd erupted. Cole came running from behind the grandstand with his chaps flapping. He was carrying his rope in one hand and his hat in the other. “Sorry I’m late.” He grinned at Ron and pointed at me. “Let’s get ‘er done.”
The tension in my neck and jaw released as I climbed up on the rail and he eased into the chute. I wanted to hug him, but I punched his shoulder instead. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Preparing.” I pulled his rope and he noticed my purple hand. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I reached over and slapped his back three times with my right hand.
He jammed his mouthguard in, tucked his chin and then nodded. Ron pulled the flank strap and the bull shot out as if someone fired a cannon. The crowd stood to watch. It was the best bull I’d ever seen. He swapped ends twice, dropped his shoulder, then belly rolled.
“Yeah, baby!” I hollered.
It was a strong bull and when he launched himself off the dirt, he caught major air. When he landed, the ground actually shuddered. Cole rode perfectly and held on for an extra second after the buzzer. He tugged the rope to free his hand and flew about twenty feet in the air as he dismounted. Mutt took a shot to the ass to protect Cole as he ran to safety.
“Yeah, baby! That’s how it’s done.” I high-fived Ron and then ran down to meet Cole where he’d climbed over the fence. I tackled him to the ground and trapped him in a headlock. “Where’d you learn how to ride like that, you son of a bitch? God damn that was good.”
He shoved me off and stood up to watch the board for his score. It took a while and when it finally flashed up, the crowd moaned. Cole’s jaw dropped. “Ninety-one? That’s bullshit.” He turned to look at me. “That was better than a ninety-one, right?”
“Yeah.” I leaned on the railing and cranked my head towards the judges. The crowd booed. Lee-Anne and Rochelle threw their drink cups at the booth.
The other competitors came over to congratulate Cole and shake his hand. “You were robbed, man. That should have been closer to ninety-five if you ask me.”
Blake sauntered up and swatted Cole’s back. “Nice effort, buddy.” He winked at me. “What happened to your hand, Billy? It looks pretty sore. I hope you can still ride since Cole’s ninety-one probably isn’t going to be enough to take home the prize money.”
“Who cares about the prize money? All I care about is beating you. And since I can ride better than you with my right hand, that ought to be easy,” I said.
He laughed, so I stuck up the puffy middle finger of my left hand and flipped him the bird.
“Does your mom know that you’re so disrespectful?”
“Your mom doesn’t think I’m disrespectful. In fact, she was begging me to give her the finger. Over and over again. She couldn’t get enough.”
He lunged at me and tried to tackle me to the ground, but I threw him against the fence. “Hey, hey, hey,” one of the PBR guys from the States jumped in and held Blake back. “Settle it in the arena.” Blake tried to swing at me, but they held him back and pushed him behind the grandstand.
“I need to borrow your bull rope and glove,” I said to Cole. Then I leaned over to puke in a garbage can, but I hadn’t eaten anything, so I dry heaved.
“You can’t ride right-handed.”
I stood upright and inhaled to fight the nausea. “Why not? I did it for the first two years.”
“You were a kid.”
“I don’t need a score. I just need to get out of the chute.”
“Why?”
“They’re going to erase your debt if I do.”
“Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know. They must have the betting rigged. They said I just need to ride.”
“You believed them?”
I glanced at Lyle and his lynch men. “Why not?”
“Even if they did say that, they’re not exactly men of their word. Blake probably only told you that so you would enter and he could beat you. He can’t get them to erase the debt.”
I bent over and dry heaved into the garbage can again. After I stood, I said, “All right, then I guess I’ll have to win.”
Cole looked down at my left hand, but didn’t say anything. We watched the fourth rider score an eighty-seven. The fifth guy got tossed. As my turn approached, I loaded a tobacco sized wad of bubble gum into my cheek and scanned the massive audience searching for Shae-Lynn. When I couldn’t find her, I glanced at the exit and considered making a run for it. As they loaded the bull, I had to hold the rail so my chicken shit legs wouldn’t get a mind of their own. The bull I drew was a young one named Tommy that had a reputation of never doing the same thing twice. Watching them load him into the chute made me panic more.
Cole grabbed my arm. “You don’t need to do this. I got myself into this mess. I’ll live with the consequences.”
I exhaled and slid Shae-Lynn’s pink armband over my forearm. I kissed it and then said a prayer before climbing into the chute. “This isn’t about you anymore. I got something to prove.”
Cole climbed up and let me get set. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah, I’m tired of being a pussy.”
“That a boy.” He pulled his rope for me.
I adjusted my legs and exhaled to make my heart slow down. Tommy lurched in the chute and threw me forward. By the time they got him standing straight again, my arm was shaking so bad I couldn’t control it. “Wait. I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No. I changed my mind.”
“Shae’s going to hook up with Blake if he beats you.” He slapped my back three times.
“Fuck that.”
I
nodded and the gate swung open.
All I could see at first was a hairy mound of flesh jerking around and the dirt spinning beneath us. The cowbell clanked and it seemed like the crowd had disappeared. It was just the bull and me. He ducked off and double-kicked before I got my rhythm. All of the muscles in my right arm strained to the point of tearing with each jolt. The chesty breath of the bull increased in intensity as he grunted and snorted with the effort of trying to kill me. He spun, stopped abruptly, and dropped his shoulder. My head shot forward and it felt like my brain collided with the inside of my skull before rebounding back and wrenching the muscles in my neck. Glittery stars floated around in my double vision for a second, then my arm went tingly. I blinked and sensed Tommy’s back end above my head. I leaned back and spurred him a couple times. Then the buzzer went.
My hand was stuck. I tried to loosen the rope with my left hand, but my puffy fingers were useless. The bull bucked and threw me over his shoulders. His front hooves trampled my leg and he stumbled a little, which gave Dewey a chance to stand in his sight to distract him. Mutt jumped on the bull’s back and released my hand. I fell to the ground and the bull stomped my thigh with his back hoof before he strutted to the exit gate.
“You’re my bitch,” I mumbled as I flopped back on the dirt and admired the way the clouds were streaked across the sky.
Mutt stood over me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I just can’t move.”
“That’s not okay.”
“What’s my score?”
He turned his head and watched the board. “Ninety.” He nodded his approval. “Not bad for someone who was using his wrong hand and hasn’t been on a bull in like a year.”
“Not good enough to win, though.”
“Depends on your definition of winning. Are you going to lie there all night?”
I rolled over and rested on all fours until I was able to muster the strength to stand. Mutt held my left armpit and Dewey held my right. They escorted me to a gate because I couldn’t climb the fence.
Cole ran over and met me. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I just forgot how hard it is.” I sat down on a platform because my leg muscles were too exhausted to carry my weight. I drank one bottle of water and dumped a second one over my head. “Do you feel sorry for me?”
