The bull launches hard, twisting fast, and the rider jerks forward, his balance off from the start. The rope slips just a little, but it’s enough.
Everything unravels.
The bull bucks again, sharper this time, and the rider loses it completely, thrown sideways before he can recover. He hits the ground hard, the sound carrying even over the crowd as the bull spins back toward him.
The arena erupts.
Shouts. Movement. Panic just under the surface.
The pickup men rush in, fast and precise, pulling the bull’s attention away just enough for the rider to scramble, but he doesn’t get up right away.
He doesn’t move.
My stomach drops.
“Mom…” Hadley says, her voice quieter now, uncertain in a way it hasn’t been all day.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, my hand tightening on her shoulder as I instinctively pull her a step back from the fence.
This is the part she wasn’t seeing.
The part I couldn’t ignore.
The rider finally moves, slow and unsteady, and relief ripples through the crowd, tension easing just enough that the announcer starts talking again, filling the space like nothing just went wrong.
But something did.
And I can’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just bad luck.
Because as they clear the arena, my gaze shifts automatically back toward the chutes.
Toward Jace.
He’s already moving, stepping closer to the handlers, eyes narrowed, attention locked on something I can’t quite see from here.
Like he noticed it too.
And then it happens again.
Another bull hits the gate before it’s fully reset, metal rattling harder than it should, the latch catching late, just enough to make everything feel… off.
My pulse spikes.
That’s not normal.
Even I can tell that.
I scan the area without meaning to, my gaze dragging across the edges of the arena, the shadows beyond the lights, the places no one else seems to be watching.
And for a second, I catch it.
That same truck.
Parked just beyond the outer fence, far enough back to blend in, but not far enough to disappear completely.
My chest tightens as I look back toward the chutes, toward Jace, who’s now standing too close to the next setup, talking to one of the handlers with a look I haven’t seen before.
Something is wrong.
