Page 35 of Colt (The Bull Riders #2)

Chapter Nineteen

Colt

It’s been a month since Allison told me she loved me.

It’s been a month of hell.

I’ve barely seen her. She moved. I didn’t go help.

Nobody made a big deal out of it, because they all assumed it had to do with my injury. Except Gentry, who came by and had a conversation with me that was filled with thinly veiled threats.

Allison hasn’t said anything to him, I know that much. But it doesn’t mean he hasn’t picked up on the vibe.

Dallas and Sarah know, and I can feel Sarah’s disappointment every time I’m near her. Dallas has known me for too long to turn on me like that. It isn’t like Sarah has totally turned on me, and in fact, we’ve decided to go to the bull riding championships in Vegas together.

I’m not sure that I should go. I don’t know if it’s going to push me over the edge or not. But it’s something I feel compelled to do. Like I have to sit there and watch this thing get taken away from me so that I can really…

I want to be able to win still. I want pretty damned badly.

“You didn’t have to come,” Dallas says as we take our seats.

“I did,” I say. Though I don’t expand on it. I just know that I had to.

I don’t really know why. Maverick is in the final, so even though it’s not as personal for Dallas, he is kind of hate watching. We just all hate that guy.

We’ve got great seats, and when I look down toward the walkway, I see a familiar face.

“It’s Stella,” I say.

I’m surprised to see Stella at an exclusively bull-riding event. Especially since neither Dallas nor I is in the final. Which is maybe… I don’t know, a little bit egotistical. But still. Barrel racing is her thing, and we are her best friends outside of that.

Sarah stands up and immediately starts waving. She only met Stella once, as far as I’m aware. But of course she recognizes her. Stella is pretty memorable. A tough-as-nails rodeo rider. If she had been a man, and the path had been clear to be a bull rider, she would’ve been a damn good one.

She makes a beeline toward where we are in the stands. She walks a couple of steps up, and stands next to the empty chair beside us. It will be filled soon. The event is sold out. But we are early, and everyone is still milling around.

“You guys have no idea how weird it is to not have you haunting me all year.”

Dallas stands and gives her a hug. I stand too, even if a little more slowly. I’m totally off crutches now, doing well, but I’m definitely experiencing effects. I can feel the weather in my bones, and I can’t say I had that skill before.

But I feel like the outlook is good.

At least for my body.

The outlook for my heart is another matter.

My fault. I know it is. My fault that I screwed things up with her. That I couldn’t say yes. I feel like I proved everything that I always believed about myself. Going back to her wouldn’t even be doing her a favor.

“You look rough, buddy,” Stella says, coming in for a hug. “I love you anyway, though.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t expect you here.”

“I didn’t expect you here,” I say.

Her face goes red. I know I didn’t imagine it.

“Oh,” I say. “You’re here with someone. Or for someone.”

She clears her throat. “Not really.”

“I don’t believe that,” Dallas says.

Sarah is looking between us, keen.

“Are you on a date with Alexandra Bella?” She’s the reigning rodeo queen, and I’ve never been able to get a read on Stella’s preferences, so it’s as logical as anything else.

She laughs. “I almost wish, Colt. She seems like a good time.”

“So the person you’re with is not a good time,” Sarah asks.

“I’m by myself,” she responds.

“Here to see one of the guys ride?”

“You know,” she lifts her nose in the air, “I don’t really care who wins. And there is a likelihood someone could have a terrible accident, just like you.”

There’s bitterness underlying her tone. I recognize it because I’m pretty damn sure I did that to Allison.

“Is it Maverick Quinn?” Sarah asks, and we all turn to look at her.

“ No ,” Dallas and I say at the same time.

“He sucks,” I say.

“He really does,” Dallas agrees.

She doesn’t say anything in response, and my stomach turns with relative horror. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Oh God, Stella.”

Dallas shoves his hands in his pockets.

“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones,” Sarah says, looking at Colt.

“Excuse me? What did I do?”

“You know what you did,” she says.

“I… Wow, Sarah.”

“Whatever,” Stella says. I shouldn’t have even come.

He got me tickets when he qualified. But then things were different.

Or maybe, things were… I don’t know.” Her eyes filled with tears.

She blinks them away, and it’s awful, looking at this.

This kind of heartbreak. Because I feel it.

Deep down inside of myself. Stella is a wonderful woman, and he’s not worth shit.

That much is clear. He’s a jerk, he’s older than we are, unfriendly to absolutely everybody.

Arrogant. He’s like me, but if I chose to use my powers for evil rather than good.

He has dark charisma. That’s undeniable.

But I thought that Stella knew better than to get tangled up with somebody like him. I guess that’s the problem.

When you want somebody, you don’t know better. You deliberately decide not to know better.

I think that’s what Allison did with me. I can’t say that I’ve done much better for myself. I wanted what I wanted, even though I couldn’t follow through.

“Any guy who fumbles you is an idiot,” Sarah says decisively.

Stella snorts. “I think I’m the idiot. For getting overly involved with a man who stated up front that he was going to fumble me. Without getting into the details.”

“I’m here for details,” says Sarah.

Dallas and I look at each other.

I don’t really want to think about Stella getting hot and heavy with Maverick Quinn. I hate that guy. Also, she’s actually like a sister to me. In a way, Allison certainly never was.

I went and made my life way too complicated. Why are feelings complicated?

I growl at that internal thought. Because they are. And I don’t like them. They just hurt.

I’ve had enough pain. A whole gut full of it.

Stella and Sarah are whispering, and pretty soon it’s time for Stella to go find her seat.

“I have a seat in the box,” Stella says. “Motherfucker couldn’t take those tickets back. Just everything else. See you guys later.”

She leaves, a hard edge to her defiant smile. It’s very her that she’s here no matter what.

I never saw Stella have a relationship, not in all the years I knew her on the circuit.

“This is what happens when we leave,” I say. “She makes bad decisions.”

Both Dallas and Sarah look at me. “What?”

“It could be argued that you are also the architect of some supremely bad decisions,” Dallas says.

“I didn’t ask you.”

“I didn’t wait to be asked.”

“Y’all are some assholes,” I growl.

“You kind of deserve it,” Sarah says. “We’re your friends. And we love you. We do. We love you. But loving you means also being realistic about the fact that you really messed up with Allison.”

“I did it for her.”

“You did it for you, Bud,” Dallas says. “Because you’re scared. And I get that. Believe me. We’ve all been through it.”

“I just… I wanted to do better. To be better. Before… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve proven that I can’t be.”

“Fatalistic nonsense,” Sarah says.

I grit my teeth, and then it’s time for the event to start.

There is so much spectacle involved in the world championship.

It’s here in Vegas, after all. There's a big country star singing the anthem, and trick riders who come out in the beginning. The production values are high. I’ve been lucky enough to participate in a number of years.

It’s great. A rush like nothing else. Sitting here, watching it, is an interesting form of self-flagellation that I’ve chosen.

But, I feel like I deserve it.

The rides are incredible. There’s not a single man here who doesn’t deserve it.

The animals are in peak condition. I didn’t know how I would feel, actually watching this again.

Being near the animals like this. But the surge in my heart tells me that I can heal from this.

I can go back to it. My body will let me.

Maybe I won’t ever be able to be the best.

But I do love this.

Maybe I won’t ever be the best.

That whispers through me, and it feels like terror. Like I might have actually just been told the time of my own death.

Maybe I won’t ever be the best.

And then what? What will anything mean? Why will I have done any of it?

Why did I push her away?

Because then she’ll push me away. When I can’t be everything.

Finally, it’s time for Maverick Quinn to ride.

“He’s going to win,” Dallas says in my ear. “The son of a bitch is going to win.”

We both knew it. From the beginning, we both knew that without us, it was going to be him. Not that he couldn’t beat us. So much of it has to do with the luck of the draw. What the animal is doing. So much of it has to do with circumstances you can’t control.

It’s an interesting thing that I’ve chosen as my profession.

Given that I sure as hell try to control everything else.

And everyone’s reactions to me. Maybe that’s why I’m good at bull riding, actually.

Because I’m always doing a dance. Always balancing.

Contorting and twisting and putting on the best show possible.

When Maverick is released from the shoot, it’s like there’s a breath held for a moment in the whole stadium.

Just for a second. Because from the beginning, you can tell that it’s a special ride.

That everything is going his way. The bull is putting up a fight, but Maverick is dominating.

Everything is working exactly like it has to. It’s a winning ride.

“He is winning,” I say.

“Motherfucker,” says Dallas.

“Oh boy,” says Sarah. “Stella is going to need emotional support after.”