"What if no one rides?" I asked.
Ty's head twitched. Our tables weren't far apart, so I could see his eyes narrow as he looked at me. I nodded, encouraging him to run with that. After a long moment, he began to smile.
"They think we're a resource, huh?" he asked.
"Mhm," I said, glancing pointedly toward where the others were sitting. "So what should we do about it, hotshot?"
In the PBR, there were three names thateveryoneknew: Renato Vieria, J.D. Adkins, and Ty McBride. That fame? It was power of a sort I didn't have. I'd worked too hard to go unnoticed, and right now, I couldn't convince these boys the same way Ty could. I just hoped he could see where I was going. Slowly, Ty lifted his chin and surveyed the dozens of riders who idolized him. The men who'd probably started riding bulls because they wanted to be like him - or better.
And everyone in this bar waited to hear what he'd say next.
Chapter 10
Bodacious.That damned bull had been coming up a lot lately. He'd been dead for years now, and still the PBR couldn't get away from him. For me, it had started with Cody riding a mechanical bull on "Bodacious Mode." Then Jake had elected not to ride Without Ado, using the same method the cowboys had on Bodacious.
This? This was bigger.
But seeing Jake tip his head, taunting me to figure it out? For a second, I felt like a fucking dumbass. If he had a plan, then why didn't he just spell it out? Then again, this was Jake. That fucker was stealthy. He liked to slip in unnoticed, steal the best ladies in the room, or the scores, or Cody's attention.
Then again, stealing was the wrong word. It was the sort of thought that made me a very single man. Jake wasn't stealing a damned thing, because he'd earned all of it. My resentment wanted to say he hadn't, but that just led us right back to where we were now, didn't it?
Jake didn't talk shit, he didn't need the credit, and he wasn't trying to brag. He simply got down to business and got things done. This time, he needed my help for some reason, and while Iwasn't sure why, I could play this game - because it was the right thing to do.
So I told the men in the room, "If the PBR is treating us like we're disposable, we make sure we aren't."
"How?" Wes asked.
"We don't ride."
Immediately, everyone began talking. Most of them were talking at me, and in voices too loud for me to tell apart. They were lashing out, and this time it was at me.
"Shut the fuck up!" I roared, surging to my feet. "Listen! The problem is that none of us want to die, right? Some of you are already talking about going home? What is that if not 'not riding'? So instead, stay. If the PBR wants to use us, then we'll use them."
"I'm not following," Jackson Cloutier said. "How do we use them?"
"The one thing the PBR is counting on?" I asked, gesturing to all of us. "That we will never work together. We're supposed to compete, right? But who says we have to be enemies? Why can't we be on the same side? In Canada, we call it collective bargaining."
"Like a union?" Tim Moore asked, proving he was here too.
I shrugged. "Sorta? But that's not the goal. The point is we're all qualified. We are the top thirty-five riders in the world, but if we step down, someone else steps up. That means we need to hold our spots."
"And?" Sonny asked, looking interested.
"And not ride," I repeated. "We send the bulls out with our rope on them, and us behind the chutes. We'll all get no-scores, but we'll stay ranked right where we are."
Across from me, Jake smiled proudly.
Ok, that fucker was clearly up to something, but this time, it felt like he was on my side. Well, our side. All of ours, and for me,that was going to have to be enough. It also really made me want to talk to him, to figure out what was going on, but this was not the time. I had everyone's attention, and most of them looked more confused than pissed.
"You want us to pay an entry fee, then intentionally get bucked off?" Noah, one of my Canadians, asked.
"Not bucked off," Renato clarified. "Look up Bodacious. I'm sure there's videos out there. What he's suggesting is that we don't getonthe bull in the first place."
"Someone's going to ride," Wes pointed out. "I'm willing to bet most of us know who."
"Austin, Eli, and Derek," Jackson Cloutier said.
I nodded. "But what can they do?" When no one had a ready answer, I pushed the point. "Maybe those three win this weekend. They're not going to knock any of us off the tour. They also aren't good enough to hold that ranking - but think about it! What will happen when, out of thirty-five riders - "
