“Come on, it ain’t a real bull. You got this.” Cash’s voice held an excited, encouraging note to it.
“Yeah, but how the fuck am I even gonna get on the thing? You gonna walk me up there, help me on up? What if I fall and hit my head? I can’t see what I’m doin’. I fall wrong and I could be dead.”
A gentler, yet no less firm hand settled on my left shoulder. “I took a nasty fall last year, and I know it ain’t at all the same, but I get the fear and worry.” I recognized Ryder’s smooth voice.
I huffed, pulling off my hat to run a hand through my hair as I fought to come up with words, but Ryder beat me to it.
“There was a guy I heard about, I think he was a cutting horse trainer or somethin’, and he lost his leg and everyone told him he wasn’t gonna cut ever again. But that didn’t stop him. He built himself a prosthetic and rigged up some way for him to cue the damn horse with his left leg… What I’m sayin’ is, bull ridin’s in your blood, man. It ain’t just a want, it’s a need. Trust me, I know.”
I found myself nodding, because he was right. It was a need.
“Look, you got both hands and both legs. You fall just as hard with your vision as you do without. You’re a bull rider, man. You’re used to ridin’ two thousand plus pounds of pissed off, rank sons of bitches. You can manage a fuckin’ mechanical bull.”
I blew out a deep breath. He was right. About all of it. My head and heart warred within me though. My heart because it just wanted to feel that rush one more time, even while the logical part of me knew it was a dumb idea. I didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.
But what about proving it to myself? That I was still something. Someone.
“It’s a stupid idea, son,” Bad said from my right. “And youcouldget hurt…”
“Yeah,” I replied, “So, you sayin’ I shouldn’t do it?”
“I said it’s stupid and you could hurt, but I don’t think you’re gonna find an argument from any of us. You need this moment. To prove to yourself you’re still you. Ain't none of us can do that for you. You gotta do that for yourself.”
A huff of laughter escaped me. Bad sure knew what to fuckin’ say. Sucking in a breath, I tossed my shot back, excitement laced in my words as I said, “Hundred bucks says I can last longer than you, Mooney.”
“Make that two.” Bad’s gruff tone held a hint of approval in it.
“Well, damn, Dad. Thanks for the confidence,” Cash defended.
I chuckled and rubbed my hands together in anticipation. It wasn’t a real bull, but it would do.
Chapter twenty-nine
Wild As You
Quinn
Whit and I madeour way out of the bathroom, my gaze falling to the empty table our group had been at just a few moments ago. I wondered if they’d gone to the bar, or to have a smoke or something—I knew Hux, Mister Mooney, and Cash at least smoked. A wave of excited shouts coming from the mechanical bull area floated on the air above the sound of the music.
“Where are we going?” Whit asked as I made a beeline in that direction.
“I bet they’re—” Cash's unmistakable crow of excitement rose over the cacophony in the bar. I glanced back at Whit. “They’re over by the mechanical bull.”
The crowd was thick, but Whit and I managed to wiggle our way to the front.
And then I saw him. Not over by Cash and the rest of our group, but atop the mechanical bull. Left hand held up over his head, while his right firmly gripped the loop meant for holding on. He rocked and twisted and spun with such ease.
He was mesmerizing. Amazing. Magnificent.
His harsh, brutal face was a mask of concentration, his gaze focused on the mechanical bull’s horns. He’d taken off his glasses, but left the hat. And my God, what a sight he was.
My heart swelled, like waves rolling toward the shore. I’d told him that he’d come alive tonight, and I hadn’t lied. Right here, right now… This. This was him. Who he truly was at his core. I was so proud of him for conquering this fear that had plagued him like a demon these past three years.
I didn’t know the first thing about he’d gone through, and I’d likely never know the true extent of it. But he was proving that just because he’d physically lost a part of himself, didn’t make him any less. In fact, it made him more.
I could have watched him forever. I think the crowd could have too, honestly. But somewhere around the three minute mark the guy controlling the mechanical bull finally called it quits and announced over the mic they had a new winner for the longest ride. After Hux got himself off the bull, begrudgingly letting Cash help him out of the padded arena, he was awarded a Roughie's t-shirt and a round of shots for his party. Cheers and shouts from myself and the rest of the bar rose over the music, but none were louder than Cash as he clapped a hand on Hux’s back. Ryder, Maverick, and Mister Mooney even joined in with the revelry of it all.
I don’t think I’d ever seen Hux smile so brightly, so openly. It’s like it was plastered to his face. My heart pitter-pattered excitedly in my chest with each step I took toward him.
