Page 110 of Rough Ride

After signing the scorecard with the event coordinator, Eli came running up to me. “You crazy son of a bitch! You did it!”

He knocked the wind out of me with his hug, but I didn’t mind.

“Your performance was too good,” Eli exclaimed, patting me on the chest. “Too good to rig! Ahahaha!”

I let out a carefree laugh of my own. It was beginning to sink in.

I’d won the Bull Riding event. I was this year’s champion.

“Look alive,” Eli suddenly whispered. “Applesauce is walking our way.”

Chris Appleton wore a blank expression as he walked toward us. “Hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

“I am, actually,” I said with a grin.

“Hey, what’s up with your face?” Eli asked with mock concern. “You look like you got bit by a wholemessof bees.”

Appleton glared at him. “Bees don’t bite, idiot. They sting.”

But Eli only laughed happily. “Right! I’m the idiot right now, and not the guy who came in second placeandis wearing more makeup than a drag queen.”

“You should have taken the money,” he warned. “But instead, you wanted to impress yourslut.”

I had been waiting for this, so I only shook my head at the bitter man. “You can’t bait me. Not tonight.”

Angry that he hadn’t gotten a reaction out of me, Appleton immediately stormed away. “You’ve made a big mistake,” he tossed over his shoulder.

My laugh echoed through the underground tunnel. “That’s where you’re wrong, Chris. I’ve never been more certain of any decision in my life.”

Appleton disappeared around a corner, but then a line of men walked into the tunnel. I realized who they were before Ted Salmon’s bloated body appeared, following behind them. I held my breath as they strode toward us, unsure if I should stand my ground or run away.

I glanced at the coordinator to my right. They wouldn’t try anything. Right?

“Gonna be honest,” Eli whispered to me. “My butthole’s puckerin’ real bad right now. What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

I recognized the two bodyguards from the standoff in the locker room, but there were two more with Salmon this time. The five men spread out in a line, blocking our path down the tunnel. “Take a walk, Peter,” Salmon told the coordinator.

He glanced at us, swallowed heavily, and then briskly walked away. As soon as he was gone, the four goons unclipped metal batons from their belts.

Okay, maybe I was wrong about them not trying anything.

“You could’ve done this the easy way,” Salmon drawled angrily. “I offered you both a mighty fine carrot, and you spurned me like an angry lover.”

“Do your lovers ever get angry with you?” Eli called out loudly. “Well, I guess they probably do, seein’ as how they’re usually goin’ through puberty.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. We were going to die in this tunnel, weren’t we?

“When one of my boys mouthed off, they got the belt,” Salmon said. “But you’re too old for that. You need to be taught aproperlesson. Break their legs. Make sure they can never ride a horse again.”

The four bodyguards stepped forward. I took an alarmed step backward. We were caught in a dead end by the coordinator’s table. There was nowhere for us to run.

Fuck.

“Guess I’ll go down in a blaze of glory,” Eli said, cracking his knuckles. “Which one of us is Butch, and which one is Sundance?”

“Does it matter? They both die in the end,” I said, feeling my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest.

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