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“Easy, Killer.” Mick held up his hands in surrender.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming up to me after the bullshit you pulled. What do you want?”
“I overheard Dylan and Mr. Hickory from Hickory Livestock talking about the bull you’re riding today. Apparently, you’re getting two-to-one odds to win, but the payout is more if you lose.”
Fuck that. “Are you going to place a bet on me?” she asked.
“I should. It’s easy money with Dylan fixing the outcome.”
LeAnn threw down the rope in disgust. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s going to give you an easy bull to ride so you win.”
“An easy bull doesn’t mean a win, and you know that.”
“All I know is he’s in charge of making sure that you draw a better bull than everybody else.”
That wasn’t even remotely true, but she supposed it could be fixed up that way. The WPRC provided a list of bulls and the riders randomly picked before each event. They were allowed to trade or switch bulls with other riders. She supposed Dylan could manipulate the drawing so when it was her turn to pick, she’d get a specific bull. But it wouldn’t be easy, and it would ruin the WPRC’s reputation for running a fair event. But Dylan wouldn’t do that. She knew that. But she also knew that she had to find a way to shut Mick up about this before the rumor mill ran with it and caused trouble for Dylan. Again.
“Mick, I’m sick of you running your mouth. I’ll tell you what. When I pick my bull from the drawing pool, I’ll switch it to another bull at random.”
“I have a better idea. I bet you can’t win on a bull of my choosing.”
“Go on.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I have a friend in the bull pens. He’ll let us swap our bulls. I’ll ride whatever bull you draw, and you ride whatever bull I draw.”
LeAnn’s pulse quickened at his words. Finally, a chance to show everyone that the women riders could use the same bulls as the men. “Why do you want to do this?”
“Lots of reasons.”
“Name a few.” She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.
“I want to make Dylan look like an idiot. I want to ride an easy bull. I want you to see how dangerous it is to ride a big-boy bull.” Mick ticked off the reasons on his fingers.
LeAnn rolled her eyes. “Just what is the deal with you and Dylan?”
“He got you.”
“You had me, you idiot, and you threw me away.”
“I never had you,” he said, putting emphasis on the word had.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Whatever. Are we going to do this or are you too chicken?”
He wished. She’d get a chance to shut down the male bull riders who dismissed them because they knew that the women were getting easier bulls. And she’d get a shot at riding a world-class bull. It could improve her score if her bull was top of the line. But most of all, she could stop the rumor that Mick would spread that Dylan was fixing the outcome of her rides. If he kept his side of the bargain, that is. Still, she couldn’t think of a better option at the moment.
“You could arrange the swap without anybody getting in trouble?” She didn’t want Dylan to take the heat for this if it went sideways.
“Yeah, they don’t keep the bulls segregated. All it would take is a couple hundred dollars to the right person and your bull goes into my chute and vice versa. My guy will switch the names for the announcers and no one else will know about it until the bull is out of the chute, maybe not even then. They’ll know once it’s over, but then there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
“Someone will recognize that they don’t have the correct bull in the chute,” she said.
“No one cares about that.”
“Dylan would care.”
