Page 8 of Rodeo Cowboy
“One of you jerks, grab my damn hat off the ground,” I bark.
“Calm down, cowboy,” Beck drawls. “I got it.”
Oak Park is known for the large oak trees scattered on the property. As they carry me
the distant sound of the party fades, and darkness envelopes us.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had to teach you a lesson, Sammy boy.” Dean pats my shoulder.
“I’ve missed a good brotherly hog-tie.” It’s a rare event that my twin gangs up with our brothers. It’s always been us two against the world.
They drop me on the ground hog-tied, and I groan as mild pain shoots through my body. “Fuck you guys.”
As kids and teens, my brothers were always up for a good prank, but this is crossing the line. We’re damn adults.
“Do you believe he went and got married and brought a whole damn family home?” Silver growls.
“You’re just throwing a hissy fit ‘cause she put you in your place on that stage,” Dean says. “Where’s the rope?”
“I got it.” Since when does Hart get involved in brotherly torture?
I roll on my back. It’s pitch black with no signs of a star in the velvety black sky. My eyes adjust enough to see Hart lasso the rope over a thick branch on one of the oldest oak trees at the park.
“You’re not serious?” I grumble, wriggling to free myself. My brothers aren’t amateurs at their knowledge in knot tying. The more I wiggle, the deeper the rope digs into my skin.
Silver catches the rope. “We’re serious.”
“Assholes.”
My brothers expertly loop the rope through the bounds of my arms and legs, and in a swift tug, they string me from the tree.
Suspended in mid-air, I gently swing back and forth.
My brother’s deep-throated chuckles and hearty laughter fill the air.
“Ha, ha. You’ve proved your point. Let me down.” The rope creaks under my weight.
“Should we let him down?” Ford kicks my boot, and I spin in a circle.
My brothers break into laughter.
Silver’s strong hands clamp my shoulders. “You back for good?”
“No.”
“When are you leaving?”
“The second I get out of this fucking hog-tie.”
Silver slaps my face. “Wrong answer. The right answer is after you make up with Elsie.”
Shit.
Silver twirls me, and dizziness hits me like a wave—my vision blurs. My head swims. You’d think winning championships riding bulls would solidify my tolerance. It doesn’t.
“We’ll let you hang around while you think of how you will make up for leaving her.” Silver slaps me as I spin by him. My brothers proceed to take turns slapping, punching, and jabbing me.
“Good to have you back,” Hart says.
