"My kind of good?" he teased, winking at me before wandering away. And no, he didn't give me a chance to respond.
All I could do was shake my head and chuckle. Yeah, Jake was interesting. I felt like every time I was sure I understood him, he did something to confuse me again. Never in a bad way, but just enough to make me curious.
And yet I trusted him. I couldn't even explain why, but I felt safe when he was around. Protected, but not smothered. It was nice, but mostly because he honestly treated me like a friend and anequal. Not like I was something new and shocking the way Ty had. Not like he was supporting my cause or something. No, Jake just treated me like I belonged, and that was definitely a feeling worth fighting for, even if my fighting might not look like the sort these guys did.
Eventually, the group of girls riding around the arena with flags headed out. Immediately, Cletus, our clown, stepped up. He cracked a few jokes, and the riders to my right began moving. Ropes were passed over. Chute attendants climbed across the railings to strap the bulls in, and this show was officially on the road.
"Cody." I looked up as Gustavo fell in beside me, watching the next chute up. "You in on this too?" he asked.
"Yep. You?"
And a grin split his face. "Oh yeah. Brazil's gonna show you Americans how to party."
A laugh slipped out. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"It's whatwe'recalling it," he assured me. "So try to keep up. I bet I can get more gasps than you can."
"Shit," I drawled. "I doubt that."
"Got some secret weapon or something?" He flashed that smile at me again, making it clear he was so full of shit.
But I lifted my rope, showing the neon pink color of it. "Yep, I - " And metal clanked down the row. Intense music began to play. All of it made us both turn to see the rider exploding out of the chute on top of his bull as I finished, "...do."
That was the Jason-guy Ty had been talking to earlier. The fucker! He was screwing this all up, and now our message wouldn't be as clear! What the fuck was he thinking? Granted, I knew the answer to that. His big plan was to get a few easy points when no one else would, hopefully moving up a few spots.
But the bullfighters were hovering too close to his bull. It was almost like they were trying to figure out what exactly they were supposed to do. Yet when the bull turned, it saw the guy in white. Still bucking, the monster of an animal swung his head sideways, catching the bullfighter's hip.
Jason rocked on the beast's back at the shift of its weight. One of his legs came up, and the bullfighter in white rolled, doing his best to get out of the way. I honestly had no idea if that would qualify as a re-ride or not, and didn't really care. Still, I didn't see any flags flying - and Jason was tilting much too far.
The bull felt it and doubled back. That was more than the new guy could take. He slipped, the bull swung his head again, and helmet met horns. For one big, forward buck, Jason's rope held, even as his legs were both over the animal's side, and then everything let go.
The rider hit the dirt. The bull turned to shove his head into the man. The bullfighters shifted, moving the wrong way initially, then doubling back to chase the bull instead of direct it. One buck over Jason's body. Two. That massive animal was pounding the rookie into the dirt, and the packed stands were filled with people on their feet.
Cheering.
But back here, I swore all of us were holding our breath. I watched that bull kick out, knocking the man in blue off his feet, but there was one single person down there with a brain. The outrider rushed in. His horse's ears were pinned, and he had a massive loop on that lasso he was swinging over his head. Even from the stands, I could hear him yelling.
"Ha! Get him turned to the gate!"
And the bullfighters somehow managed. Green tapped the bull's nose. White tossed his hands into the air behind the bull's ass, encouraging it to move away. Blue pushed in, adding a little more pressure, and the bull went. Bucking at first, but when the bullfighters didn't follow, it simply trotted away as the gatemen gave it an escape.
And Jason's scream cut through the air.
I exhaled, pushing out all the air I'd been holding, and beside me, Gustavo groaned in relief. Screaming meant he was still alive. Screaming meant that no matter how badly he was hurt, Jason was still well enough to do that, and we all knew it. Slowly, the murmurs of conversation returned around me, but Sports Medicine was already hurrying over to help him.
"Fucking idiot," Gustavo grumbled.
"Yep," I agreed. "There's a reason we're doing this tonight."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah." Then he paused, looking out at the arena. "Fuck, that's not good."
I turned in time to see Jason trying to get to his feet, but one leg wasn't working. When he put weight on it, he crashed back down - and the bullfighters weren't in there helping. Nope, they'd pulled back and grouped up, clearly discussing something they thought was more important.
But Doc and Anthony made it to him. For a little too long, they hovered over the guy, and more assistants came out to help. It was the first ride of the night, and we were already off to a very bad start.
Then Ty came over, pausing between me and Gustavo. "That," he growled, doing nothing to hide his frustration, "was their second chance and second failure."
"Shit," Gustavo said. "They're far past two."
