Page 37 of Property of Rio

Chick pipes up and states, “Since I wasn’t completely sure about the buildings we’d be putting in, the permits I have cover plumbing buildings and shit. Shouldn’t be an issue to do those buildings and I agree, they’d be a nice change to a fucking porta-potty.”

Everyone snickers because he’s not wrong. In the Texas heat, using one is like stepping in a pile of shit while getting a shower because you come out soaking wet with that scent clinging to you.

“It’s because of the toxic environment we live in,” Abyss sagely supplies, responding to my input about the concessionbuildings. I shake my head since I see another useless conversation starting unless I put a stop to it immediately.

“Alright, new buildings, no food trucks, advertise for those specific vendors, and let’s check with Pancho to make sure there’s nothing that needs fixing on the rodeo grounds. If we need to get the road graded, we need to get it done. Pokey, Chick, y’all give everyone the checklist that’s in place and if you need money, get an estimate and give it to Nerd so we can make sure we’re getting the best we can while not overspending,” I decree. “Pokey will also send everyone an encrypted file with the information he gathers concerning the Onyx Devils. Meeting adjourned.”

I head out to the bar with several of the brothers, eager to have a few beers while I wait for Issy to finish up her training with Pancho and Luis.

TWENTY-ONE

Isla

“God, I love the excitement of the rodeo,” I say to Rafe as we walk hand-in-hand to the stadium bleachers so we can watch the bull riding event. Starlight and I have already competed, and the final results will be announced at the end of the night. Gazer and I will run the barrels in about an hour from now, but it’s enough time for me to gather my bearings, relax, eat something light, and watch one of my favorite events unfold.

“I do too, but I’m glad I don’t ride broncs anymore,” he replies, grinning down at me. Once he does a full body scan of me and my attire, his grin turns into a full-fledged smile. “You’re looking quite flashy today, Issy.”

I’ve already changed into my performance clothes that I’ll wear while racing Stargazer. My outfit consists of a long-sleeved western shirt, dark jeans, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots. My shirt, boots, and hat are all color coordinated with my signature color, purple. Stargazer’s saddle has purple trim, andher tail is braided with purple ribbon plaited throughout her mane as well.

“Considering I normally wear white T-shirts and jeans on a daily basis, yeah, I guess you’re right,” I reply, looking down at my glamorous and sequined outfit. “I’m a little decked out.” I added a few new shirts to my wardrobe during a recent shopping trip and I’m secretly glad that Rafe noticed the difference. Of course, the man notices every little thing about me.

“I like your hair, too,” he adds, tugging on the end of my braids. I may or may not have added the ribbon that matches Stargazer to my locks, as well as black eyeliner and purple eyeshadow so my eyes pop underneath the lights.

“You should since you were the one who suggested I wear my hair this way.” Sometimes I leave my hair loose and flowing with only the top pulled back in a clip, others, I pull it into a low ponytail or get French braids. Whatever will keep my hat on my head.

“So, who do you think is gonna win this one?” Rafe asks, looking down at the program. “I see Tex is on Bandit from Hell, while Horace has Hellhound this time.”

I shudder because both bulls have a history of hooking their riders. “I hope the clowns are ready,” I murmur. I glance around the arena and notice that there are already ambulances in place for emergencies. These two bulls are well-known throughout the circuit and are veritable monsters when they’re let out of the chute.

“Honestly? I think it’s gonna be a toss-up,” I finally reply, glancing over his shoulder and reading the lineup of riders. “Both bulls are scary as hell to me and seeing as we breed themon the ranch that’s saying something, Rafe. But these two seem like they evolved from the pits of hell or something.”

He chuckles but nods. “I sure as fuck wouldn’t ride either of them willingly and you know I never backed down from a challenge.”

Once again, I find myself shuddering because at one rodeo, both RafeandGage were hooked by the bulls they were riding when the bullfighters, who are usually dressed in clown makeup, didn’t get to them fast enough. It was one of the reasons Rafe gave it up because I was damn near hysterical when I finally reached his side.

“I’m glad you don’t ride bulls or broncs any longer,” I confess. “I swear, my heart always went crazy whenever you were in the chute waiting for your turn.”

“Yeah, I prefer riding you or my bike,” he cheekily replies, smirking at me.

I hear a gasp and turn my head to see a woman holding her hands over a child’s ears while glaring at Rafe.

“Hey, lady? That’s probably not gonna be the worst thing your kid hears around here. Cowboys and ranch hands don’t follow proper etiquette and they sure as fuck don’t worry about their foul language,” I sneer.

I refuse to let her embarrass me sinceshewas the one who was eavesdropping on mine and Rafe’s private conversation. I barely resist the urge to flip her off, to be truthful. Rafe’s chuckle brings my focus back to him and away from Mommy Prudest.

“Babe, I’m not embarrassed by anything I say,” he states.

“I know, I just think it’s ridiculous for someone to come to a rodeo and expect folks to be at their Sunday best,” I mutter, still a bit peeved by the woman’s behavior.

Rodeos are rough and tumble. The cowboys and ranch hands work hard and play even harder, which is why there are so many buckle bunnies running around today. The headliners in the various events are competing and those women are looking to score a chance to say they fucked so-and-so. Most end up being one-offs since a lot of the men, and even some of the women who compete, aren’t ready to settle down. They live their lives on the road, hauling a fifth wheel behind their pickup truck from town to town. They have ranch hands that pull the trailers with their horses, which are then boarded at the closest facility near the next rodeo.

“Pay attention, Issy,” he suddenly says, nudging my shoulder toward the arena. I scoot to the edge of the bleacher, my heart pounding in fear for the rider who’s about to attempt to stay on for eight seconds.

“I swear to God, watching this gives me flashbacks. I think you and Gage gave me PTSD,” I grumble, causing Rafe to start laughing at me as he wraps his arm around my shoulder, wrapping me in his warmth.

“Babe, really?” he chuckles, placing a chaste kiss on my temple.

“Yeah,really, Rafe,” I retort, my body trembling from mentally reliving the malefic memories. “Check my pulse.”

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