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He caught my chin, pinching hard enough to make my cheeks push together. "You're my rookie. My card ain't got no limit. I'm just making sure you can ride, so pay me back later. It's just a few grand."
"Like thirty of them!" I hissed.
"And a real dirty trick," he growled, those dark eyes of his holding mine. "We ain't gonna let it work, so smile pretty and tell me thank you."
"Thank you, J.D.," I said as soon as he let me go, but it didn't sound as appreciative as I felt.
Mostly because I was pissed. I wanted to scream about it, but the woman behind the counter hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't her fault the PBR had decided to fine me. Nope, it was someone else's and the big question was who.
"Ok, if you can sign here, sir?" the woman asked, passing the slip to J.D. "And Cody, here's your paperwork." She paused, glanced behind me, then leaned closer. "I'd appeal this if I was you."
"Oh, she's gonna," J.D. said. "You wanna get me checked in too?"
"Yes, sir." But she didn't ask for J.D.'s name.
It could've been that she'd just had his card, but I was pretty sure that wasn't it. This woman knew him. Hell, everyone in the general vicinity of bull riding knew him. Winning tended to have that effect.
"Five-fifty for you, J.D.," she said.
He pushed his card back. "Thanks."
A moment later, she was sliding paperwork at him. "Ok, you both are checked in, and Cody, your fines are cleared, but..." She tapped something and then stretched back, pulling a few more pages off the printer behind her. "Here's the records of them. If you appeal, you can get your money back."
"J.D.'s money," I grumbled, but I did take the pages. "Thanks."
Wrapping his arm around my shoulders again, J.D. turned me to the side, letting the next person check in. We didn't make it far, though. I was seething. Not just annoyed, but fucking pissed off in a way that made me want to scream at the top of my lungs.
"What the fuck?" I demanded, turning to face him and stopping right in the middle of the hall. "I got fucking fined?"
"They're gonna say you hit back," he told me. "They always do. Most of us just pay it and move on."
"But that's bullshit," I said. "Austin and Derek jumped me. What was I supposed to do, let them kill me?"
"Cody..."
"No!" I slashed my hand through the air. "This is crap and you know it. That wasn't some bar fight. That shit wasn't us having a little disagreement. It was them trying to hurt me bad enough to keep me from riding, and the PBR is punishing me for just being there?"
"Yeah," he said. "They are. And if you push, they're gonna say it's just fair, because there weren't no witnesses. They'll say you were fighting - which you were. They'll say it's just the rules."
I grumbled under my breath. "They want me gone, huh?"
He simply lifted a brow. "You care?"
"Fuck yes, I care!"
"Why?" He crossed his arms over his chest, the papers in his hand hovering by his ribs. "Pretty damned sure you're not going anywhere, so why you give a shit?"
"Because this is bullshit!"
"So? It also ain't workin'."
I opened my mouth to reply and just stopped. "Huh?"
"I can pay those fines all day long," J.D. said. "Been doing it enough for myself. I make two hundred a weekend from sponsors. Ain't even a dent in my check. So yeah, fuck 'em. They wanna run you out, well, they're gonna have to run me out first, because we ain't stoppin', right?"
"Two hundred grand?" I breathed.
I'd known he made a lot, but holy shit! That was more than I'd ever imagined. And he got it just for showing up? Ok, maybe I felt a little better about him paying thirty grand for my fines, but still. Thirty grand was a year of working, back before I'd joined the PBR. It was alotof fucking money!
