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I just shrugged. "Don't care. Maybe it's time they figure out how to keep up with me."
"Not that hard when you're scoring so..." He chuckled. "Exceptionally."
Low. He wasn't saying a single thing I could use as proof, but he was making sure I knew my scores were low because of him. Maybe notjusthim, or maybe he had some stupid fucking power trip and was running all over everyone else. I had no fucking idea. I also didn't care.
"You do the math," I told him. "Bull gets up to fifty points. So do I. If I stay on for all eight seconds..." I licked my lips, then smiled. "I still get points. You can't score the bulls too bad or the stock strings will start asking why. Worse when they're only getting low bucking scores when I'm on 'em, huh? Yeah, that's gonna cause some problems. So, you gonna just say I'm earning zeros? How you gonna play that off? And you think no one will notice?"
"Once you're down to thirty-sixth place, you'll have to earn your way back up," Mr. Merrill reminded me.
"And if I'm staying on, I will never get that low," I pointed out. "Do. The. Math."
"No, you do it!" the man growled, lifting his hand like he was going to grab me.
"Donald!" the other man hissed.
So Mr. Merrill clenched his hand into a fist, but he didn't lower it back down. "For the last three weeks, when people have been talking about the PBR, it's about you. It's about a woman riding as well as the men. It's about whether we're making it easy on you. Ticket sales are down, you've pissed our long-time fans off, and this company has a reputation to uphold. You aren't it. Bow out gracefully, Cody, or you'll end up retiring as an injured rookie, because women can't compete on the Tough Enough series."
"And yet I am." I glared right into his eyes, that fist of his still much too close. "I'm here. I'm doing this. I'm not going away, so get over it."
"I'm just trying to keep you safe," he said, yet there was no concern at all in his words.
"I'm sure you are," I agreed sarcastically. "Right. Real safe." Then I lifted my bandaged arm. "But the boys aren't the only ones who can ride through the pain."
"And your scores will show it."
Those words made a grin break out on my face. "Watch me, Mr. Merrill. I dare you. And you can keep coming after me. That's fine. But if you think chasing off your best rider or suspending the bullfighters the fans love so much is going to make this company money?" I scoffed. "Maybe the PBR needs a new president."
"You little..."
"Donald!" the other man snapped, grabbing Mr. Merrill's shoulder this time. "I think that's enough. I know it's been a rough weekend for you, but you've said more than enough."
Which meant the man had said too much. I knew it. He knew it. So did that Harold fellow, although I was pretty sure he'd be more than willing to make this out to be little more than a polite conversation.
Because Jake Cunningham wasn't here. That was what Mr. Merrill had said, and it was just enough to convince me Jake really was on my side. I had no clue what beef he had with the PBR's officials, but now I was starting to think I should probably ask.
So as Harold dragged Mr. Merrill away, I simply stood there, letting my mind go. The president of the PBR had just thrown down the gauntlet. He'd all but dared me to prove I could do this. But something about the way he'd just said it made me think if I failed today, I wouldn't get to try again.
They'd suspended Tanner because of me. That meant they'd go after J.D. next. I was pretty sure Mr. Merrill's threat meant they would keep picking off everyone around me until I no longer had any support in this sport at all.
But I'd done that before. I'd made it here on my own, thinking I wouldn't be accepted, and I'd somehow made a few friends. Good ones! I'd found men worth loving. I'd found a reason to fight hard, and that maybe I did have something to prove. Seeing the look on women's faces when they told me I made them proud?
No, I couldn't quit. Not for me, not for my daddy, and not for either of my boyfriends. I couldn't quit because things got hard. I refused to be scared off simply by a little injury like my arm. I wouldn't be able to look at myself the same if I gave up now, just when I'd made it clear I had a real chance to go all the way.
The problem was that I could fail. I hadn't ridden on my right hand in so long. I didn't know if I'd even be able to get free when I was done. I also knew Disco Breakout was one hell of a tough bull. I was riding at a disadvantage, and I was more than willing to bet he would be nice, fresh, and ready to throw me into the arena wall all over again.
I wouldn't have the best bullfighters in the arena to save me this time. I wouldn't have Ty waiting on the rail to haul me over it. I wouldn't have the anonymity of the world thinking my boy's name made me one more nameless cowboy in a black hat and chaps.
This time, it was make or break, and I was scared shitless that all my bravado wouldn't be enough to pull this off.
Chapter51
I stormedtowards the locker rooms, scanning the area for Jake. When my eyes found his grey Resistol, I stopped so hard I almost fell over. Beside him was a man I knew much too well: my father. The two of them were looking at my rope, their heads were together, and Jake was pulling rosin down the strands.
"What are you doing?" I demanded when I got closer.
Both of them turned with guilty expressions on their faces. "Hey, did you get taped?" Dad asked.
"Yeah," I said distractedly. "Jake, are you..."
