Page 46 of Eight Seconds to Fly

I grinned. “Liar. You’d rather be on top of a bull, riding high.”

He boomed out a laugh and it mended a small piece of my heart. “Okay, maybe one other place, but that's it. I like being here with you Tessa. I like it a lot.”

Well hell. What did I say to that?

“Uh, same?”

Dylan’s laughter was interrupted by Beau strolling up to us, his eyes concerned as if he was trying to judge my mental state just by my face alone. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice, and I gave him a strained smile. They were going to hover for a little while, but that was okay. Two days ago, I would have chafed under their constant presence, but right now, I felt like I had my own army and that patched the holes in my own self-confidence. I didn’t have to be scared when I had Dylan’s hand in mine or Beau watching over me.

Maybe in a week, I'd feel differently. “I’m good, Beau. Ready to ride and go home. Leave this shit behind.”

He nodded and dropped it. That's the other thing I’d always loved about Beau. He didn’t harp on something. He knew when I needed to talk, and when I needed to process in silence. Branch never had that; he’d just nag me until I broke, and then he’d conquer whatever little thing had made me mad or sad. “How’s the thigh?” He grabbed my knee and rotated it around, testing my range of movement.

“It's good. Wouldn’t even know I’d been stomped except for the bruise now.”

He nodded, seemingly happy with my range of motion. “I think from now on we should strap it just to give it a little extra support. Your ribs too.” Yeah, they were a bit achy from Junior’s boots. Beau squeezed my knee, then looked over at Branch. “Take your pants off, asshole, so I can strap your knee.”

I watched Branch slide his jeans off out of the corner of my eye, down his long, tanned legs. What did he do outside to get a tan like that? Naked sunbathe?

His ass in his tight boxers was like all my birthday cakes in one glorious package, and I dragged my face away so I wasn’t ogling him in public. That wouldn’t help my reputation at all.

“Uh, Tessa? You got a bit of drool there,” Dylan whispered and I punched him in the thigh, blushing like a southern belle.

I shushed him and went back to doing my own prep. But I couldn’t help sliding my eyes to where Beau was running tape over Branch’s knees and thighs, and feeling just a bit jealous. I guess I wasn’t broken after all.

I tried not to climb into the chutes feeling like the sport owed me something, but it was hard. I made eye contact with every single person who stared at my face behind the chutes. I refused to cower, to drop my eyes like I had something to be ashamed about. But the bull definitely sensed my turmoil, and it messed around in the chutes like a big baby. I sighed and looked up at Dylan who was holding my flak vest.

“You got this, Baby Girl,” he shouted over the crashing of the bull against the rails. “You can ride this bull. You don’t have anything to prove to anyone but yourself. Now get out of your head and ride this damn bull.”

I grinned, hoping he could see it through my helmet and settled back onto the bull. I rubbed my rope until it was tacky, and quickly got to work. One more deep breath. In and out. I gave them the cowboy nod and the gate burst open.

Time slowed as the crowd went up and down, and I adjusted my seat to fit the spiralling motion of the bull. He was a high kicker, but I had a good seat and as I made sure my arm stayed above my head, I felt free. Completely and utterly free.

Finally, the buzzer went off and it was time to come back to earth, in the most literal way possible. I jumped off, but missed my step and landed on my hands and knees in the dirt. A familiar face grabbed me off the ground and tossed me toward the rails and out of the way of the enraged bull.

The grin on Frankie’s face as he ushered the bull through the gate told me just how much fun he was having. Once the gate slammed closed, I jumped off the rails, and ran over to Frankie. He grinned and slapped my back. “Well done,Querida. Do you hear it?”

I finally heard the sound of the applause over the blood rushing in my ears. Heard the commentators over the speakers talking about how textbook my ride was, how naturally I sat, and I swear, I almost embarrassed myself. Instead, I lifted my arm in the air and pointed to the sky. That one was for my parents.

The grin on Frankie’s face was almost as big as mine. “We’ll celebrate later,” he waggled his eyebrows. “Now get the hell out of the arena.”

I jogged out the exit and almost bypassed Caly. “T.M!” she called after me, and my feet slowed. Fuck. As much as I didn’t want to shy away from what happened, I didn’t want it broadcast on national television either. “Don’t worry. We aren’t crossing to you for an interview. The big guys upstairs have vetoed anything like that for awhile.”

I blew out a relieved sigh. I pulled my helmet off and watched Calypso’s eyes as she took in the bruises on my face and the ones poking up above my collared shirt. Helpless rage and just a hint of fear settled in her face. “That son of a goat fucker,” she growled, making her cameraman chuckle. “I’m not going to ask if you are okay, but I hope whoever your guardian angel was put that fucker in a coma.”

I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Caly grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. “Girl, if you need anything, you let me know.” She pulled back and sucked in a ragged breath. “You aren’t the only one he’s tried it on.”

I reared back. “Did he…?” Yeah, sometimes a word was so big that it didn’t feel like it could leave your lungs.

She shook her head, and I let out a relieved sigh. “No, but only because Matty came to find me to do a couple of shots.” She tilted her head at the cameraman, who’s face looked like he’d happily find Junior and put him in a coma if that's what Caly wanted. He looked at Caly like she was the best thing since beer and ribs.

I shrugged like what happened yesterday wasn’t the second hardest thing I’ve ever been through. “I told them that if he even so much as watched from the nosebleeds, I was going to fuck with their world, so hopefully they ship him off to Antarctica and we can both forget he ever existed.”

Caly frowned. “You aren’t going to press charges?” There was a hint of disapproval in her tone, and I got it, but it still hurt a little.

“So he gets a six month good behavior bond, and I get dragged through a very public court case, only to have my reputation and career in tatters at my feet afterwards?”

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