My Immortal Cowboy (Hell's Cowboys Book 1)
Page 1
My Immortal Cowboy
Hell’s Cowboys Book 1
Victoria Zak
Contents
Copyright
Newsletter Signup
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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About the Author
Books by Victoria Zak
My Immortal Cowboy, Hell’s Cowboys Book 1
Victoria Zak
Copyright 2016 by Victoria Zak
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without prior written permission of the author and publisher.
All characters, events, and locations in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or living, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Edited by Violetta Rand and Julie Roberts
ISBN: 978-1-942516-11-8
Created with Vellum
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1
The roar of the Sunday crowd was deafening as shouts of encouragement rang across the Horns and Spurs arena. RC Reid lowered himself down and straddled a fifteen-hundred-pound bull in the chute. He gripped the handle hold of the bull rope with his left hand, testing the tackiness of the rosin.
A cowboy working the pens leaned over the top of the metal fence. “Got him nice and tight?”
RC nodded.
“No rider wants to leave money on the table by losing his rope.”
The beast charged forward as the bucking strap was set in place. There was good reason his ride was named Hell’s Fury. He was wild in the chute and rode like he was dragging you to hell. It ignited the adrenaline surging through RC’s veins. He liked ‘em mean and aggressive. At the end of the dance, victory was that much sweeter.
Nothing was going to stop this up-and-coming cowboy star from riding this mean sonofabitch for eight seconds.
He’d ridden bulls all of his life. It was the only thing he knew, and right now he was at the top of his game and loving every second of it. Tonight was the last of a four-day event and he was the one to beat. Throughout the season he’d ridden through broken ribs, bone-deep bruises, and bloodshed, yet he always got back on his feet again, kicking the dirt off his boots, and dusting the arena grime from his Wranglers. There was no room for intimidation to rattle his concentration. Not even the preshow fireworks and loud music shook his nerves. His focus was on the ride.
He recalled standing in front of the flashing lights a few minutes ago, the crowd cheering his name. A woman he’d never seen before had walked past him, taking a seat in the front row, her striking blue eyes standing out against black-as-night hair so long it kissed her perfectly shaped ass. A white tank top hugged her curvy frame, exaggerating her full breasts. Skin-tight rhinestone jeans that sat low on her hips finished off the outfit. At first he’d brushed her off as just another buckle bunny, but when she tipped her Stetson and gave him a wicked smile, something shook his soul. The twinkle in her eyes sent out a warning instead of an invitation—he’d see her again.
Quickly, RC refocused on the monster between his legs. Controlled and consistent. The words he lived by looped inside his head as he pulled his hat down, securing the black felt for the ride. Taking in a deep breath, he tucked his chin to his chest. The time felt right. He was ready to slay the dragon and win tonight’s prize money. If he did, he’d qualify for the Professional Bull Riders’ World Championship in Las Vegas.
Once he’d set his sights on something, he’d never quit until he got what he wanted. Hardheaded? Nah, determined.
But the real prize if he won, was getting one step closer to starting his life with Charlee Brysen. He’d loved that girl from the moment he’d set eyes on her at the age of twelve. A memory flashed and he was back home, dangling his hook in the creek that ran between the Brysen’s and his family’s land, staring at Charlee as she cast her own line into the dark water.
He loved the way her cheeks flushed and her lips pressed together during those awkward moments when he’d been caught gawking. As they grew older, there was more to Charlee that set him on fire. He’d move heaven and earth to be with the blonde from Diablo, Texas again.
Gripping the top of the fence with his right hand, he pushed his hips forward, eyes still locked over the bull’s shoulders. RC nodded and the gate opened, unleashing Hell’s Fury. The bull bucked into the area, its hooves pounding into the ground, slinging dirt and spit in every direction. The bastard turned tight to the left, toward his riding hand, just the way he liked it. Adrenaline pumped through his veins full force as the crowd roared to life, encouraging him to ride the full eight seconds.
“RC Reid,” the announcer yelled out in excitement, “is making history tonight, folks!”
As he chased his dream, he was confident and in control, until the bull threw his head back, knocking RC off balance. The force of the buck tossed his body forward and his head connected with one of the beast’s horns. The arena turned into a rippling blur as he fought back the haze threatening to take over.
Worry crept in when his body became numb. As the battle spin continued, there was no stopping his body from falling into the vortex of dust, hooves, and bull spit. Fury kicked out his hind legs with such power that RC lost his grip and was thrown to the dirt.
The bull fighters rushed the massive animal, waving their hands in the air, trying desperately to distract him. Heavy hooves crashed down onto RC’s chest before he had a chance to roll out of the way.
His lungs constricted and he gasped for air.
Second by second, the darkness beckoned him deeper into oblivion. Cowboys didn’t walk away from bull wrecks like this. He’d seen his share and knew this ride was fatal, but before he went to his grave, he had to know if it’d been worth it.
Would he die knowing he had given that sonofabitch his all? He looked up at the time clock. Well, if this didn’t put the pickle on the shit sandwich. Eight seconds—he’d ridden for eight seconds. He closed his eyes as he heard the paramedics rushing toward him.
RC lay in a broken heap in the arena. A series of sorrowful cries echoed from the bleachers. The enthusiastic tone from the announcers morphed to a grim silence when RC failed to stand and walk away from the wreck.
Voices became mere murmurs as questions were being fired his way. His lungs burned, the fight to stay alive fading fast. The iron taste of blood flooded his mouth. One of the first responders wrapped a brace around his neck. He swallowed hard. Was he really going out like this? Even though they tried to outrun it, every bull rider knew that death was a possibility.
He’d never get a chance to tell Charlee how much he’d sacrificed for their love. Now he cursed himself for breaking up with her two years ago.
At the time he’d thought it best, so Charlee could focus on college without worrying about his dream. Even though he knew the split wasn’t final, he’d never get the chance to tell her how truly sorry he was for letting her go.
As he lay there, a beautiful vision of Charlee flashed before him. She was sitting at their favorite fishing hole, the sun shining through the trees casting a warm glow across her skin, a smile on her face that made his stomach flop like a fish out of water. He’d never forget that smile. His chest tightened into a wad of knots as he thought about leaving her alone. She was the reason he’d endured the beatings and pushed through the heartache every damn night. He rode for their future. All he had to do was make it to the championship, claim the million-dollar prize, and go home with a nest egg big enough to live comfortably on.
Now he fought for his life.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
His lungs begged for oxygen, but he lacked the strength to drag in a single breath. Voices traveled down a faraway tunnel, never reaching him as he lost consciousness.
RC gulped for air and opened his eyes wide. The buckle bunny that had been sitting in the front row was bent over him with her lips pressed to his, blowing life back into his body. When their eyes met, she lifted her head and smiled down at him, flashing her white teeth.
He coughed through his dry throat. “Who are you?” he asked, stunned to see her. “The fucking Death Angel?”
She laughed. “Darlin’, I’m here to bring you home.”
What? He surrendered to the darkness again.
2
RC had no idea if he was alive or dead. All he knew was that every muscle in his body ached like he’d been beaten with a baseball bat. He moaned back to life as he gingerly rubbed his bandaged ribs, which pulsed with pain. Cold fingers swept across his forehead reminding him he wasn’t alone. He clutched his stomach, groaning as he rolled into a tight ball, bracing himself against the internal torture.
“Darlin’, don’t fight it.”
The familiar voice sent chills down his spine.
RC turned onto his back. Mumbled words swam through his mind and thumped to the beat of his aching head as he tried to shake off the fog. He opened his eyes, and a pair of ruby lips flashed into a smile.
“Hello, darlin’.”
Shit! He was six feet under, and the devil—in the form of a buckle bunny—she’d come to take his soul straight to hell. It had been just his luck; death had sunk its icy claws into him when he wasn’t ready to die.
“Selene, perhaps we should let him rest.” Another woman, this one with blonde hair, stepped into view.
Selene shot her an irritated glare. “Thana, when I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”
The blonde shrugged her shoulders and retreated. Clearly the woman knew her place and it wasn’t to question the buckle bunny’s authority.
“Darlin’, can you hear me?” Selene sat on the bed and ran her fingers though his hair.
He rubbed his jaw, wondering why it hurt like he’d just had a root canal on every damn tooth. Then again, he was in so much pain it was hard to tell where each ache ended and another one began. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t in Texas anymore. He needed to get the hell out of there, wherever there was, but first he had to figure out who these women were.
Whoever they were, they weren’t there to offer the typical romp buckle bunnies offered. They possessed a power he couldn’t explain. It rolled off them in waves and sent his instincts into flight or fight mode. A strange vibration rushed through his veins and the same power he sensed in the women overtook him, giving him the strength he needed to fight, and hopefully the stamina to get to the flight part of his plan. With a speed that belied his pain, RC leapt on top of Selene, pinning her beneath his body, his hand on her throat before his brain had even processed the offensive move.
“Who are you and why am I here?”
“You’re strong, Cowboy.” She bit her bottom lip. “I like it rough.”
“Selene,” Thana warned.
“Oh, come on. Can’t we have some fun?” She rolled her eyes as if the whole situation bored her.
Before he knew what had happened, Selene had him on his back, stripping away any control he’d thought he had. She held his wrists above his head with one hand, and cupped his prized goods with the other. “If you ever touch me like that again…these,” she squeezed his balls, “will be mine.”
He swallowed hard, stunned at the power packed behind this woman. She couldn’t be more than a hundred pounds wet, yet he was powerless against her. For fuck’s sake, he’d ridden fifteen-hundred-pound bulls for a living! Who…no, more like what the hell is she?
“Are you going to play nice?” she asked.
“It depends,” he hissed through the pain as her grip tightened around his cock. “Only if you tell me where I am and who you are?”
She pinned him with a hard glare; her white teeth gleamed against the dark-lit room. Something in that expression told him that she never played fair or nice.
She relaxed her hold. “My name is Selene and this is Thana.” She pointed to the blonde standing next to her. “We’re here to help you.”
He didn’t believe her, but something sinful and familiar raced through his blood, the strange power sparking every nerve ending. He’d taken his last breath back at the arena, but why then did he feel more alive than ever?
“You can trust us,” Thana added.
“Right. How can I trust you when I haven’t a clue who you are? For all I know I’m in some kind of purgatory at the mercy of death angels.” He sat up, rubbing the ache between his legs.
Selene chuckled. “Oh, I like that, Cowboy. The angel of DEATH.”
Selene’s eyes sparked with enthusiasm as she said the last word, making his skin prickle. Yep, something wicked was going on.
“We need to go.” Thana tossed RC a shirt, then placed his boots by the bed.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He shoved his arm through the sleeve of the plaid button-down and nearly ripped the shirt in two as he pulled it over his shoulder. “What the hell?”
“How cute, he doesn’t know his own strength.” Selene pinched his cheek.
He swatted her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Selene, you know how Roman doesn’t like to wait.” The blonde walked toward the door. The sound of her boots scuffing along the floor echoed across the room.
“Fine,” Selene huffed and stood. “Look, Cowboy, you’re home now, and Roman will explain everything. Just trust us. We’re not here to hurt you, that is if you play nice.” She winked.
RC shoved his feet into his boots. He eyed Selene, then gazed at Thana, leery of their true intentions. Who was this Roman? If he was going to find the truth, he had to leave this room, and if it meant trusting these women, he’d play along, but on his own terms.
“All right, ladies, I’ll go with you on one condition.” He stood and smiled, giving Selene a heavy dose of his own charm. No woman could resist his boyish, make-you-go-weak-in-the-knees dimples and his southern charm.
Or so he thought.
In one fluid motion, Selene stood behind him, tightening a leather collar around his neck, and Thana had both his hands tied behind his back. They’d jumped him like they were roping a calf. Before RC could register what had just taken place, Selene pulled him forward by a leash attached to the front of the collar. He stumbled toward the door.
He tugged against the restraints. “What the hell!” Silver spikes pricked against his skin and burned him like hellfire.
Selene brushed her lips against his ear. “There are no conditions, Cowboy. Our way only.” She gave the collar a tug.
Point taken.
“Please, don’t try to fight,” Thana whispered behind him. “You’ll only make it worse.”
“When I break free…” he threatened through clenched teeth, “I’ll kill you both.”
Selene laughed, pulling him down a dark hallway.
There were no windows or doors; nothing but stone walls on either side of him. A dank, earthy smell invaded his senses, his gut telling him he was underground.
The hallway dead-ended, with nothing but a wall of rock in front of him. There was no way out, unless he backtracked twenty-two sconces. Then where would he go? For the first time in his life he’d found something that rattled his cage. He was trapped.
His vision went black. “What the…?” He fought against the restraints which only caused the collar around his neck to burn hotter.
“It will be over soon,” Thana said as she tied a blindfold over his eyes.
RC tried to keep his mouth shut, but his patience was wearing thin and he was nearing his breaking point.
He heard what sounded like a door sliding open before he was pushed against a cold wall. He was defenseless. His heart jumped at the sound of a loud thump, followed by an unexpected jolt. He was thrown off balance as he felt the floor beneath him drop. Shit, was he in an elevator, and going down?
“He really needs to fix that,” Thana huffed. “I swear to the Goddess if I get stuck in here—”
“I know. It’s not like we haven’t been complaining about this for months,” Selene agreed.
Even with the unknown looming ahead of him, he found their complaints quite amusing. No matter what, women were women; always yappin’ about something.
The elevator came to a sudden stop and RC could feel the women’s bodies tense; could hear their blood flowing through their veins. He could hear saliva being swallowed in fear. Whoever they were going to see was bad news if these women were afraid.