"Antonio Sousa," he said.
"The director who handles the bullfighters," I realized. "I see. So are you the one who calls Casey's family?"
"We'll be notified of Casey Davis's condition later," he said, but now the man had a look on his face like he'd smelled something bad.
"Mm," I murmured, not really caring about that. "Gotcha. But you are the one who picked those useless idiots out there. The same ones who couldn't make that save, and now - because we don't trust them - the PBR won't be breaking records anymore."
"What?" he asked, sounding honestly confused.
I thrust an arm back to where the end of the night ceremony was still carrying on in the arena. "Do you really think we all ride that bad? Has it crossed your mind yet that the reason we're not showing off is because we're more worried about getting off the bulls than staying on them? That none of us want to break our bodies for no reason, because a buck-off and a broken leg? That'scalled career-ending. Never minddying!Why fight this hard for fame, sponsors, and everything else if one man snoozing is what can make us lose it all?"
"Is that why you hit Austin?" he asked.
I nodded slowly, adding a little hum to show how disgusted I was with all of this. "Yeah, sorta. Partly it was because he didn't seem broken up about Casey's accident. Yeah, and Austin's the one who put Tanner Burns under a microscope. The PBR didn't want to be embarrassed, so our best bullfighter is out. That means the wolf pack is gone. Those idiots you put in for us aren't even helping with our gear! Doesn't matter if we took a set of horns to the face, got stepped on, or anything else. They're more worried about playing it up to the fans than doing their job, and that only ends one way."
"With more seats sold?" Mr. Sousa asked snidely.
I grunted. "With more cowboys in the hospital. Only way to prevent that is to try less hard. Ride safe, get off the dirt, and don't worry about scores. Rides are determined by bull scores right now, nothing more and nothing less. We all know it, just like we know Cody Jennings won't get a fair shake from the judges."
The man's eyes narrowed. "You're wrong."
"Prove it," I said, jerking my chin at him in a taunt. "And no, I'm not sorry I punched him. Don't care if the fans saw. Don't give a shit if it was unbecoming. Fine me. I'm done ignoring this shit."
"Well, because you have a good point, I think we'll drop it down to unbecoming conduct, hm?"
Those words felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. Not because I was surprised to get fined. I was shocked it wasonlya fine. I'd been ready to make a scene before I was kicked off the tour, but that? It was bullshit - and the kind I couldn't really say anything against.
"Yeah, I'll pay it tomorrow," I said, turning around and heading back to my gear.
Thankfully, Renato walked up only a moment later. He didn't have a smile on his face, and wasn't trying to brag up his first-place score. The man simply grabbed his bag, asked if I was ready, and the pair of us headed out to his truck together.
"Want me to drive while you celebrate?" I asked.
"Nothing to celebrate," he assured me.
And when we walked into the bar, it seemed that was what everyone thought. Normally, the night after a ride was a little wild. Men were drinking too much, women did their best to get some attention, and everyone was laughing. It didn't matter if that was because of a good ride or a bad one. There was an understanding between us that kept even our failures from hurting too much.
This was different.
The music was country, but it wasn't loud. The waitresses were hurrying to tables with trays of beer bottles. The guys had clustered into groups of friends, separating themselves a bit. Granted, I was pretty sure that was partially because the asshole who usually camped out at the bar was missing tonight.
So was his rookie.
My eyes scanned the crowd anyway, looking for a hint of pink, but I only saw buckle bunnies wearing that color. They were plentiful, although there weren't too many hanging on cowboys. Letting out a heavy sigh, I gave up and found a table. Clearly, Cody wasn't going to be joining us tonight either.
"What's going on?" Renato asked as he sat down across from me and lifted his hand to get a waitress's attention.
"I got fined for that fight," I told him.
His head twitched slightly. "And you're sighing?"
"Oh, that's because I was hoping to see Cody."
"Right." He just nodded, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "What the fuck, Ty?"
"I was hoping to talk to her about what happened."
"With you and her?" he asked.
