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“Hey,” I said, my words floating above the clamor of the crowd. “My name is Declan. Gearing up for a ride tonight?”
She visibly relaxed, a glimmer of a smile playing at her lips. “I . . . yeah, I am.”
“You’re Avery, right? Clover’s sister? She’s mentioned you.”
A spark of surprise danced in her eyes, followed by a hard swallow. “She did?”
“She sure did.”
A slight shift in her stance and a downward gaze broke our connection. “My sister doesn’t talk to rodeo men. Hell, she doesn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t think she knew you.Orwould talk about me,” she said, her voice faint but firm. “I’ve watched your rides, you know. You’re a natural. I’ve been trying my hand at bull riding too, but you’re leagues ahead. How long have you been at it?”
“Since I was a kid,” I shared. “But I took it seriously after joining the Dust Devils.”
“If I want to make a name for myself in this rodeo world, joining them might be a smart move,” Avery countered, her bravado clearly a facade to mask her apprehension. “I’ve been thinking about initiating.”
I chuckled, devoid of any humor. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for,” I warned, my tone carrying an undertone of menace. But Avery held her ground, her gaze steady on mine, her spirit challenging. “Being a bull rider comes with its share of risk,” I stated, my eyes burrowing into hers. “But can you live with the weight of taking another’s life if it comes to it? Are you ready for the fallout? The rodeo is just a source of income for the Devils. If you joined, your life would become theirs.” The silence that descended was potent, filled with unspoken questions and uncertain futures.
She flinched under my frankness but didn’t back down. Despite her petite frame, up close, she radiated an inner strength that I recognized from my past, of protecting foster sisters from an unforgiving world. Her determination caught me off guard, giving me pause.
Defiantly, she held my gaze. “I can’t answer for everyone else,” she said, her voice rock steady, “but I’m not going down without a fight. I want this. I want to make a name for myself, show everyone they were wrong about me.” Her declaration stood out against the cacophony of the crowd. “And my dad got his start here. Sponsors scooped him up. The same could happen for me.”
I shook my head, a wry smile on my lips. “Hank won’t make things easy for you,” I said, breaking the tension. “He wants to keep you tethered to him, to control your dreams and shatter them whenever he wants. He’d have you desperate, perpetually chasing something just out of reach. And if the bulls don’t kill you, Hank might.”
Unfazed, Avery replied, “I can handle myself.” Her voice resonated with steely determination.
I watched her, admiring her raw nerve. Clover had her work cut out for her. The task of reining in Avery’s wild spirit seemed impossible.
“This is my chance,” she finally murmured. “It’s my way out. When I’m on that bull, I feel . . . free. I need to prove myself.”
“Look, I’m not trying to be a hero or anything like that. Clover didn’t send me here to talk you out of this,” I hastened to add when Avery’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “It’s just . . . Nightfall Rodeo has a way of making even the strongest of us feel like we’re walking on eggshells.”
Avery scoffed, crossing her arms. Disbelief was written all over her face. “You’re like every other man in this sport—thinking that I can’t handle myself.”
I couldn’t help but admire her tenacity and spirit, although misguided. “Alright,” I said with a small chuckle, nodding my head in understanding. “But for what it’s worth, it’s not about being weak or strong—it’s about being smart enough not to go alone.”
With a determined nod, Avery turned and walked away. I watched her go, a strange mix of admiration and anxiety filling me up. As I did so, I caught sight of Hank watching us from the sidelines. His eyes were hard and unreadable as they followed Avery’s retreating figure. He had been there the entire time, listening in on our conversation. He met my gaze before disappearing into the crowd again. Was he planning something?
As the night went on, the clamor of the rodeo continued to fill the air with an electric atmosphere that charged my veins with adrenaline. I couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on Avery as she stood at the edge of the arena, her wide eyes taking in every detail of the events as they unfolded before us.
I felt a strange sense of responsibility for her as I watched the cowboys and bull riders bravely battle each other, and I wondered what kind of future was waiting for any of us—Avery, Clover, or myself. I’d always been a protective bastard. I had a weak spot for women; some therapist once told me it resulted from failing my mother. She was murdered, so I felt the need to protect every woman that came across my path.
But this was different.
Avery was different.
Clover was very, very different. Even now I was feeling itchy, wondering if I should have taken her to the fucking hospital instead of that bar.
Soon enough, Avery’s name was called. She took a step forward, striding confidently toward the chute with a look of determination on her face. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of both pride and fear as she climbed onto the back of a massive, snorting bull. Its muscles seemed to ripple beneath its hide as she adjusted her grip on the rope tightly with one hand and signaled for the gate to swing open with another.
In an instant, the bull burst out of its confinement, bucking wildly to throw Avery off. My heart was pounding in my chest as I watched her fight to stay atop.
I held my breath as her body moved in sync with the powerful animal beneath her. Every twist, turn, and buck seemed to be met with equal force, Avery refusing to give up. The crowd roared with excitement, the energy in the arena reaching a fever pitch.
Avery’s focus never wavered, and the seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The bull kicked, twisted, and thrashed, but she held on, her strength and determination shining through.
The arena was deathly silent as the clock counted down the last few seconds of her ride. Finally, the buzzer sounded and Avery released the rope, jumping off the bull in one fluid motion. The crowd erupted in cheers that vibrated through the air as she landed safely on her feet.
Avery accepted the congratulations from her fellow riders, her face flush with victory. The announcer presented her with a pouch of prize money that she tucked into her pocket before scanning the stands for my face. When our eyes locked, she smiled wide and beaming, waves of pride radiating from every pore. I couldn’t help but return it, proud of what she’d accomplished—but also knowing how hard it would be to turn away from this life when it’s all said and done.
