Page 57 of The Wildest Ride

But it wasn’t Abby. It was the Tulsa Police Department and they had a body that needed identification. Gran dropped the phone. Lil remembered it falling, an old cordless thing, the kind that felt like you were making a phone call with a brick. The floor tile that cracked on impact was still broken to this day—a tiny memorial in itself.

Gran had taken the trip alone. Granddad wasn’t due back for a week and there wasn’t time to wait. She had dropped Lil off with their old neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, who plied her with sweets and distraction for the whole time Gran was gone. Lil couldn’t eat caramel to this day because it reminded her of that visit. The Parkers had done their best to spoil the little girl who had no idea her mother was dead. Along with the sweets, they let her stay up until the sugar and unusual routine left her in an exhausted pile on their living room floor.

Gran was back the next day, changed in a way that even a four-year-old could see.

Abby Lane was gone, a drug overdose in a lonely motel. Lonely because when the owners had broken into the room with the police, the only sign of the man she’d checked in with was the second rig next to her body on the bed.

For Lil, the story wasn’t merely the tragedy of their family cannon. It was a cautionary tale to avoid the same mistakes—the biggest of which being taking up with fly-by-night rodeo cowboys who dallied so casually they were always prepared.

“Stop.” The command in her voice, enough to overwhelm the embarrassment and shame hidden beneath it, was assured and abrupt. AJ froze immediately.

Pulling back, he searched her face. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Lil nodded, then shook her head, then blew out a frustrated breath and a sigh. Then she tried again. This time the words poured out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this get this far. We have to stop. This is crazy.” She sat up to scoot away from him, palms up. “You’re—” she broke off. “You’re AJ Garza.” Even just his name was a silken temptation in her mouth, as good to say in this intimate space as every daydream she’d ever had had suggested. No. That wasn’t true. In truth, none of her daydreams had ever come anywhere near so good as the real thing. But it wasn’t right. “We’re enemies,” she said, once again borrowing his friend’s word. “We have to remember we’re enemies.”

The smile he’d been wearing as she spoke slid into a frown. “We don’t have to be,” he said.

But Lil shook her head sadly. “We do. You need to win just as badly as me. And I—” She gestured to her state of undress, realizing he still had his clothes on. “I don’t do this kind of thing with rodeo cowboys.”

The words were stiff and awkward; her face was ruby toned to go along with them. Every ounce of ease that had existed between them was sucked out of the air in an instant.

For a moment, AJ was quiet, his ragged breathing slowly returning to normal. Then he slid off the bed.

Standing, he looked away from her while he adjusted his clothing.

Then he turned to her, a smile planted firmly in place, and nodded. “You’re right. I was just thinking that myself at the beginning of the night. You know what they say about the best laid plans...” As usual, there was laughter in his voice, but the fact that it was forced, put on like he was on camera, curdled Lil’s stomach.

“I’d better get going,” he said, voice low. “We’ve got a show tomorrow.”

And after waiting for Lil’s nod in response, he turned and left, closing the door on his way out.

16

The caravan pulled into the OKC arena parking lot exactly on schedule at 11:00 a.m. AJ at its head, followed by Lil, Hank, and finally the remaining bullpens. Security closed a barricade around them as soon as they parked, which struck AJ as overkill until he stepped outside.

Hundreds of young girls stood behind what appeared to be a hastily set up rope line at the far end of the parking lot. The pitch and volume of their screeching reached him, lancing through his mild hangover, even at that distance.

Tapping the first greenie that walked by on the shoulder, he said, “Excuse me. Can you tell me what that’s all about?”

The redheaded young man stuttered in response, “Y-yes, Mr. Garza.”

AJ wondered if it was somewhere in their training manual that they had to stutter when they spoke to him. “So...?” he asked, pointing to the young women.

As if he’d asked for the first time, understanding lit up the greenie’s face and he said, “Oh, that! That’s because of Lil Sorrow!”

AJ’s right eye twitched.

The kid didn’t notice. His eagerness to talk about Lil Sorrow melted away all traces of intimidation, as well as any basic ability to read his audience. “Lil Sorrow’s feature got picked up by StoryLaunch and went viral, and long story short, the Closed Circuit is trending worldwide!” The kid gushed. That was the only word for it.

AJ’s head hurt, but not as much as his body ached for the woman that wouldn’t leave him alone, even when she wasn’t around. And now, apparently, it wasn’t enough that she was the bright new star of rodeo, she had to go and become a worldwide phenomenon. She was going to be the death of him. “When’d it go out?” he asked the greenie.

“Yesterday!”

Even content about Lil wasted no time climbing to the top.

“What’s it called?” he asked, recognizing he’d get more from the source than the kid in front of him at this point.

The kid blushed a little. “Rodeo’s Triple Crown Princess.”

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