Page 119 of Burned & Bound

By the time it was Jackson’s turn to pick a number, I’d lost count and track of what the fuck was happening.

“Well, now!” the announcer began as he clapped Jackson on the shoulder. “There’s no need to pick your number tonight, is there, Jackson? All the slots are filled and that puts you in as the twenty-fourth rider! How’s that make you feel?”

“Well, you know what they say.” Jackson grinned as he leaned in closer to the mic.Yeah, this fucker was about to say some stupid shit to piss people off.“You always save the best for last. Let me show these boys how it’s done.”

From the overdone and righteous indignation on all their faces, it worked. That was the other thing driving me insane: the fucking antics. Did they all hate each other that much? Or was it all a fucking act? At this rate, I hoped to hell they were paying Jackson as a goddamn actor too.

“You doin’ good, sugar?” Darla asked. I glanced at her, nodding. “Good! Sutton and Wren are goin’ to get us all drinks. Jackson said you don’t do alcohol, but can they get you anythin’ else?”

I almost said coffee but thought better of it. I didn’t need to be hopped up on caffeine. Not when I was dying on the spot.

“Water is fine,” I replied. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, honey, we don’t mind at all!” She laughed, but I failed to see her humor. “You’re important to him, so you’re important to us.”

Yeah, I would never understandit.

The night crawled on with water refills and the eventual bag of pretzels. I couldn’t sit still in my spot. My legs bounced with an insatiable need to get the fuck out of there.

Jackson’s first pick was some bull named Burger.Who the fuck named a bull Burger?That was borderline cruel was what that was.

When they started the second day, the first rider pulled a name I hadn’t heard. Though, I hadn’t been paying close enough attention to have a good grasp of what was happening.

“Are they only picking from twenty-four bulls?” I asked Darla.

“No, each bull is used only once an event,” she said. “I ain’t got a clue why, so I can’t give you that answer.”

I made a sound and filed that away as something to ask Jackson.Maybe.

The third draw didn’t go by any faster than the first two. In fact, it felt even fucking slower. It’d be rude to fucking leave. I kept that thought at the forefront of my mind to keep from bolting.

“Oooh-weee! That right there, folks, is the unlucky draw!” the announcer damn near shouted when Jackson grabbed the last piece of paper from the hat. The wild response around us was deafening. I frowned.What the hell was happening?

“Oh, no,” Darla whispered behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at her, wondering what the hell she knew.

“For his second ride, Jackson Myles will be facing down the one… the only…Rampage!”

Anything else he said was drowned out by another uprising in cheers. Jackson ate up the excitement with such enthusiasm that it made everyone all that much louder.

“Why the hell do we not like Rampage?” I leaned back just enough for Darla to hear me.

“Honey, Rampage is the meanest son of a bitch they got,” she whispered. “He ain’t the bull that riders are hopin’ for. He ain’t no one’s Everest. He’s the goddamn boogeyman.”

“Oh…” I didn’t understand half the shit that came out of her mouth. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Most of the cowboys who get on Rampage, they don’t walk away,” she explained. “They get carried outor…”

I didn’t need her to finish that sentence to know what the fuck she meant. The sense of dread weaving through me said it all.

CHAPTER 83

jackson

Oh, c’mon now.” Ichuckled, maintaining my unbothered attitude. “Rampage is just another bull. It’s all about how you ride him.”

“You say thatnow,” the interviewer began with a little giggle. I was pretty sure she worked for the local newspaper, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d talked to so many fucking people. We all had.

“Now, look, honey,” I took off my hat as I spoke, “I know Rampage has got one heck of a reputation, but it’s just talk. That’s all. All bulls get a good toss and trample in from time to time.”

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