Page 8 of Lost Trust

“We’ll see. There’s a lot to consider. But that’s tomorrow’s concern. Tonight is about Ax.”

He bumps my good shoulder, and the vibration makes me bite back a curse.

“You all right?”

I instinctively straighten. “Fine.”

“Right.”

That’s all he says, and I know he doesn’t believe me. Bryce has seen and experienced enough injuries to recognize one from a mile away.

Unfortunately …

Someone else noticed too.

“Royce.”

I close my eyes.

Damn. Jovie.

She steps beside me in her PBR Sports Medicine jacket, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail after what had to be a long-ass day for her.

She’s a member of the PBR medical staff. They operate as a makeshift emergency room on-site, working nonstop to stitch wounds, manage concussions, and treat acute injuries throughout the event. Medical trainers and doctors arrive hours before the bull riding begins to tape athletes, evaluate injuries, and provide physical therapy. They also stay afterward to assess riders before they leave the arena. During multiday events like the finals, they are on call continuously to provide ongoing treatment, often working twelve or more hours a day, depending on the round volume.

“You having trouble with that shoulder?” she asks.

“Nope.”

She raises one eyebrow. “Move it.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Bryce chuckles under his breath. He knows exactly where this is headed. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Fucking traitor.

The second he’s gone, Jovie points toward an empty hallway. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve had enough people poking me today,” I say.

“Aw, poor cowboy. He can have a bull toss him around like a rag doll, but he’s afraid of little ole me wanting to check his boo-boo.”

“Exactly.”

She folds her arms and glares at me.

I sigh dramatically. “Fine.”

I follow her into a quiet corridor, away from the chaos.

“Shirt off.”

I blink. “Buy me dinner first, Doc.”

“Now, Royce,” she demands.