“You look like you’re about ready to pass out, Monica.” Kiersten patted her on the shoulder. “Relax. Cull knows what he’s doing.”
How was she supposed to relax? A loud buzzing sound went off somewhere in the arena as the doors to a gate came crashing open. Monica watched intently as a bull shot out with Cull on it’s back. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene before her. He had one gloved hand held high above his head and the other was holding tight to a leather strap. The bull bucked wildly, spinning one way, then the next as Cull held steady, keeping his posture in the saddle. She replicated the action by grasping the top rail of the fence and held her breath, staring and feeling fear tighten her muscles.
He whipped around like a rag doll as the bull continued its thrashing. She leaned her body to the left, to the right, forward and backward as if she were the joystick to the bull. The crowd cheered and she heard a few chants. Were they rooting for Cull or the bull?
“We love you, Cull!” A woman screamed from the bleachers.
Finally, the buzzer sounded again and Cull dropped from the back of the beast and raced for his exit, only the bull was pissed and wanted revenge. He raced up behind Cull, but he was quick and darted over the fence just as the bull slammed its head into the metal.
“Can I breathe now?” she muttered.
“Yes, you can breathe now,” Kiersten said with a laugh. “Welcome to our world, my friend. I have a feeling you’re going to see a lot more of these events.”