Rather than giving in, I began to run my gloved right hand over the end of my rope. Again, then again, I slid my hand down the fibers until warm rosin began to string out, proving it was nice and sticky. Then I turned my attention to the handle.
"Just this bull," I whispered to myself. "Just this ride."
"Hold up a sec?" Jake said, making me look up again.
This time, I realized my head was pretty much even with his crotch. When my eyes went there, Jake playfully tilted his hips like he was trying to hide from my inspection.
"Focus, girl!"
"Your dick keeps ending up in front of my face," I said, sticking my tongue out behind the grill of my helmet.
Then, from the distance, I heard, "Let's go, rookie!"
"Ride him like you own him!"
I ducked my head to laugh, but Jake told me, "And you're good to go. Warm that shit again."
So I did. The rhythm of it helped get me into the zone. I warmed my rope good, too. But when I went to wrap my hand into it, I made sure the tail was only folded in my fingers, not tucked between them. Tonight, I wanted to get off this bull more than stay on it.
"I'm good," I told Jake.
So he climbed back over to the safe side. Taking one more look behind me, back toward where I knew J.D. and Tanner would be sitting, I pulled in a long breath and let all the fear, anxiety, and weirdness flow out with my exhale.
Then I dropped, landing on the bull's back in a fluid motion. My legs locked in against his armpits. I could feel my spurs pushing against his sides, but before the animal could even react, I was nodding, letting the man at the gate know to open it.
The metallic clank always sounded the same. I knew it well, but so did the bull. Before the gate was even moving, the animal turned his head toward it, and the moment he saw an opening, the beast exploded.
Up. It was always up first. With my left hand flying high, I sank into the hollow the bull created in its back as it kicked out. A song was playing, but I couldn't make it out and didn't have time to worry about it, because when this bull landed, it was hard. I felt myself roll back onto my pockets for a second, but my right arm was strong enough to pull me back into position.
Then this big boy started showing off. His kicks got big and snapped out at the end. The rears were when he turned, making my ass slip a bit each time. Like he could feel it, the bull kept going, traveling across the arena in the process.
I knew the chutes were no longer beside us, but I couldn't quite tell which way we'd gone. I had to keep my chin tucked, which meant all I could see was dirt. Lots of dirt, but I was ok with it. I had this. I was going to ride the hell out of this animal, so I added a little spur, aware I wouldn't get any points for it.
But that didn't matter. What I wanted was to stay in control. I needed to be the one making decisions, because if I wanted to get out of this alive, I needed to ride this bull. I wasn't a passenger, and I had no intention of turning into a quitter. The PBR hadalready fucked up bad tonight, so maybe, just maybe, I'd get a few points this time.
But when the lights began to play on the dirt around me, I knew my time was up. A tug at the end of the rope let me free, and another kick sent me flying. For just a moment, all I could see was the darkness above me, broken up by the bright spots of high-powered lights.
Then I hit the ground hard. Immediately, I rolled, trying to find the closest wall, but instead I found legs covered in long green shorts. The bullfighter went down as I found my feet, but I didn't stick around to check on him.
I simply ran.
Before me, I could hear men yelling frantically. That was enough to warn me this animal was on my tail, so I pushed my short little legs to move a bit faster. The moment I was close enough to the rails encircling this arena, I jumped.
Hands grabbed me. So many hands. My vest, arm, belt, leg, and more. I didn't even need to climb to get over because at least four men were pulling me up. The moment my body was over the railing, all of us toppled down onto the walkway on the other side.
"Oww," came from below me. I shifted, trying to see who I'd landed on, and the first thing my eyes recognized was green. Black came next. After that was a very broad chest with my hand pressing right in the center, and attached was Renato's face, grinning at me like I was an idiot.
"My woman watches these shows, you know," he joked.
So I smacked his chest and rolled off. "Pretty sure she'll just think you're a nice guy," I assured him.
Emilio was right there to offer me a hand up. The moment I was on my feet, Dado leaned in to pop the snaps on my helmet. I counted a few more guys, and I didn't know all of their names,but each one was patting me in congratulations, yet there was something off about it. Like the enthusiasm was missing.
"Yeah, they still hate you," Dado grumbled.
I turned to find him looking at the scoreboard. That told me enough, but I still had to see exactly how bad it was, so I yanked off my helmet and pushed between the Brazilian riders who'd just saved my ass. There, lit up in bright red, was my score on the main screen: 71.25.
"Fuck!" I snapped, turning away.
