Because this was the last place I wanted to be with my father in a bad mood. Neither Clay nor I wanted that man to figure out that not only did we know we were related, but we'd actually grown close. Mr. Merrill was convinced that if Clay found out about me, then his mother would know next. Since she was the money-maker in their family, my old man would be so fucking screwed.
And that, right there, was my real ace in the hole.
Chapter 22
I'd filledRhaven in on all the reasons the riders were striking as we rode over. Once we got to the arena, the pair of us had split at the door. Getting access ‘behind the scenes’ meant she'd be able to wander around and check out the other riders, but I still had to check in, so I headed for the line to do that.
The guys were trickling in today. I had a feeling it was because most didn't care which bull they drew. We wouldn't be riding them anyway. That meant getting the leftovers wasn't going to cost someone any money.
A few of the men smiled in greeting. Most looked like they'd done a little more partying than preparing. Slowly, we shuffled forward until I finally reached the counter. There, I got my name on the list, was handed the papers with my bull's name, and headed for the warm-up area.
Right about the time I got my rope hung up, deciding I'd at least check to see if yesterday had caused any damage, the casual chatter around me died. For a moment, it felt like everyone in the room was looking at me. So, making a point of finishing up what I was doing, I turned, braced for a fight.
Four feet away, Donald Merrill was standing with his arms crossed like he was not in a good mood. His eyes hung on me,shifting back to examine my rope, then over to my legs - which didn't have chaps on.
"What are you doing, Cody?" he demanded.
"Setting up?" Because I thought that was obvious.
"Does this mean you're going to ride?" It sounded like a dare.
From the side, I saw Jackson shaking his head. Sadly, I couldn't figure out if that meant I was supposed to say I wasn't riding, or that I was.
So I decided to split the difference. "Well, I'd considered it. Why?"
"Because all of you will ride today!" Mr. Merrill snapped, looking around at the others. "Do you hear me?!"
"Nope," Ty said as he pushed around the man. Then he tossed his bag down beside mine. "You might want to say it louder, Mr. Merrill."
"This shit?" Mr. Merrill stabbed his finger down at the ground. "It ends now. I don't know what y'all think you're trying to prove, but if you kill this sport, then what will you do?"
I pulled in a breath, ready to respond, but Jake beat me to it. Sauntering into the room, he stepped around the president of the PBR like he wasn't intimidated at all by the man, then he patted Mr. Merrill's shoulder cockily.
"Walk," he said before grabbing his gear and heading over to drop it on my other side. "Maybe even run. Have some kids, settle down, and raise the next generation of bull riders to do better than we did."
Mr. Merrill made a noise in his throat that could only be described as a growl. "And your stunt yesterday means the PBR is bleeding money this weekend." He turned to glare at the men to his side. "Have any of you figured out yet that money doesn't grow on trees?"
"Grows on bulls," Jaxon mumbled.
"And those bulls are paid for by the PBR!" Mr. Merrill screamed. "This stunt? You've hurt the score of those bulls enough that some stock contractors are reconsidering our contract. Then what? What is professional bull riding without the best bulls?"
"History," Jake said, lifting his chin in a clear taunt. "But see, you're the one asking us to get on those 'best bulls' without any protection."
"No, your gear is all within the acceptable specs," Mr. Merrill shot back.
"I meant the bullfighters," Jake said.
"And I," Ty added, "am real fond of walking. Living too. I think most of these guys are."
"And girl," Mr. Merrill said, glaring at me. "Is this your doing, Cody?"
"No, sir," I assured him. "Believe it or not, these cowboys are pretty smart men. They can figure out shit without needing a woman to tell them what to do."
"Damned straight!" Kaleb barked.
I had to clench my jaw to keep from laughing, but Mr. Merrill's face was turning a rather impressive shade of red. Ty murmured under his breath, making me think he noticed it too, but Jake? That crazy motherfucker began to smile.
"Here's how this is going to go,Mr. Merrill." He put a little extra emphasis on the man's name. "The top-ranked riders in the PBR will climb back on and risk both our lives and our limbs once we're convinced we're going to have the assistance we were promised. Now, I don't care if that means training up your new pet bullfighters so they help us out, or bringing back the old ones."
