Page 138 of Lost Trust

Micah, standing near the chute, snorts.

“If you can’t put that kind of effort into it, you can still be a bull rider.” I pause. “But you’ll never be a great one.”

The kids quiet down.

“So, you have to decide what you want. You want to be mediocre, or you want to be great? Those are your two choices.”

I walk a few steps closer.

“And understand something else. Nobody can want it for you.” I point toward the group. “Not your parents. Not your coaches. Not your friends.”

I tap my chest. “You have to want it so damn bad that you’re willing to work for it when nobody’s watching. When you’re tired. When you’re sore. When you fall off and don’t feel like climbing back on.” I glance at the bucking chute and back to them. “If you want it that bad, nothing can stop you.”

Micah raises a hand. “Except a broken neck.”

A few of the kids laugh.

I turn toward him, and he shrugs.

“A broken neck stopped J.B. Mauney.”

“Yeah, well …”

“Stop scaring them. Damn.”

The voice comes from behind us, and every head in the arena turns. Axle walks through the gate, grinning.

The students erupt. Cheering his name and asking for photos. They swarm him so fast that I barely have time to jump out of the way.

Axle throws an arm around one kid while another is already asking him about Widow-Maker.

He catches my eye over their heads. “You ready to run some bulls?”

I grin. “Hell yes.”

His smile widens. “Then let’s get to work.”

I shake my head.

So much for my lesson plan.

“Buck’n Diesel Energy,” Axle says.

I look up from my plate just in time to catch the grin spreading across his face.

We’re crammed around one of the picnic tables outside the bunkhouse, plates of burgers and fries scattered between us, the afternoon sun beating down on our backs.

Axle doesn’t seem to notice the heat. He’s too damn excited.

“The tagline is: Fuel the Fight. Own the Ride. They want the three of us. We’ll do a few rides each while they film. Nothing complicated.”

He shoves another fry into his mouth, chews, then launches right back into his pitch.

“The voice-over goes, The gate drops. Your heart pounds. Eight seconds can change your life forever. Fuel every ride with Buck’n Diesel Energy—built for cowboys who never quit.” He pauses dramatically. “Then the best part: Side effects may include flying through the air.”

Micah snorts.

Axle points at him. “Tell me that ain’t good.”