"We're going in the front," I told Tanner as he eased his way into the parking lot.
"Wait, what?" he asked.
I pointed at an empty spot halfway between the ticket entrance and the one the bull riders were using. "Park there."
"J.D., talking to the press is a dumb idea."
I chuckled once. "Grow a pair, babe. You're sexy, you're a fucking hero, and I'm a big deal. Plus, I think we need to poke a bear a bit."
"Poking the PBR is going to get me fired," he hissed, but he did pull into the spot.
"Naw." I popped off my seatbelt and reached into the backseat for our hats. "You play the good boy. I'll play the bad one. Now, if people start talking about how cute we are together, I'm good with it, but they already think you're a hero and I'm a fucking villain. Let's just play our parts real good, get me?"
He accepted his hat from my hand, then rocked it onto his head. "If this goes bad, you're blowing me all next week."
I couldn't stop my smile if I wanted to. Popping open my door, I slid down, saying, "Was already gonna do that."
Tanner just leaned back in his chair and groaned - and then followed. Sadly, the moment he met me on the front side of the truck, we were already playing our parts. There was a good three feet of space between us. His straw hat was nice and light in the daylight. My felt one was black as pitch, contrasting nicely with my bright pink shirt. I had a feeling that shirt was why we got noticed before we even made it to the sidewalk.
"J.D. Adkins!" someone called out.
I just lifted a hand and kept walking.
"J.D.!" another reporter yelled. "Are you in favor of this boycott the riders are doing? Is it because of Casey Davis?"
And that was the magic phrase. I turned toward the sound even as Tanner kept going, but a few people were moving toward him as well. Not that I could exactly count how many, because I had at least a dozen quickly encircle me, pointing their microphones into my face.
"What happened to Casey is a tragedy," I said. "All of us in the PBR have been praying for his family and friends. This can't be easy for them, but he was a good bull rider, and you won't hear no disrespect from me about him. I just wish Tanner had jumped the rail sooner. Who knows, maybe Casey would still be with us if the best bullfighter in the PBR hadn't been sitting on the sidelines this weekend."
"Tanner Burns?" someone else asked. "Why isn't he working?"
"Well, now that's a question you're gonna have to ask the PBR," I told them. "Ain't none of us real sure, but they said it was for leaving the arena when Doc ordered him to help me." I patted my ribs. "Got run over real bad back in Iowa. Could've been fatal, but Tanner, Jorge, and Isaac saved my life. Those men took the hits for me, kept me from moving when I was hurtin' so bad, and a couple of 'em even held my hand, and I ain't too proud to say I needed it."
"So are injuries common in bull riding?" a woman asked, shoving her mic at me.
I chuckled. "Yes, ma'am. They're real common. I mean, I broke all the ribs on my right side, had to get some stitches in my spleen, and almost messed up my knee again. Already got pins in that and my hip on the other side. A few in this arm too." I lifted the left. "One of those bulls weighs about a ton. That's not an exaggeration either. City folk always think four hundred, maybe six hundred pounds, but it's alotmore than that, and they hithard. I mean, that's their job, and most of 'em are real big babies after the ride, but the more spunk they got in the arena, the more money both of us make."
A reporter at the back asked, "So the bulls get paid?"
"Yep." I nodded to make sure they all saw. "Well, their owners, but I promise ya these boys see plenty of it. And the better they do, the more girlfriends they're gonna get. For some of these animals, we're on the fourth generation of that bloodline kickin' our ass out there. That means these bulls aregood. Real good, y'all. So when they decide it's time to get rid of the flea on their back?" I pointed at myself as an example. "They know how, have the build for it, and have the muscle to make it hurt. But that's the game, right? It's tag. We wanna tag them, but not let them tag us."
"So do you expect more deaths from this sport?" the man in front of me asked.
I shrugged. "Normally, I'd say no. I mean, we got helmets to keep our brains in place, and vests to protect the organs inside. Those are good and all, but the biggest bit of protective gear we have? That's what we call our safety team: the bullfighters. Those three men are supposed to know where the bull's gonna go, be able to see when a ride's going bad, and have the guts to get the animal's attention to lead them to safety. Them to safety, not us. And if you think we riders are crazy, those bullfighters are twice as brave. Weallowe our lives to them. I just wanna know why we're using alternates instead of the main team."
"Does that have anything to do with the boycotts?" the woman asked.
And one corner of my mouth slid higher. "Should. I mean, if it was me, it would. Now, I've been out because of my injuries, but I don't think anyone should get on a bull again until they feel safe enough to do so. Casey Davis was killed by an animal Friday night. That makes me wonder why it happened. Who made themistake and allowed it to get that far? Why wasn't the bull turned, the rope cut, and the rider protected? Why did Tanner Burns have to go from a spectator to a savior? And I know he wasn't plannin' that, because he was sitting up there next to me, waiting for his girlfriend to get on a bull." Then I tipped my hat at them and turned, walking away as if that should be enough for them.
Behind me, the crowd was calling out my name, begging for more, but I didn't stop. Nope, I'd just given them a crash course in bull riding, and all the shit they weren't supposed to be told. And if Donald Merrill wanted to lash out at someone, well, he could try coming at me. I didn't exactly have anything to lose if he wanted to start a pissing match, but my lovers had a whole fucking lot to gain.
And one of those lovers was waiting for me when I made it into the building. Tanner was leaning against the wall at the side with his hat down low. Those jeans he was wearing did great things for him, and I had to remind myself twice that I couldn't just walk over there and grab him.
"Hey, bullfighter!" I barked.
"You have fun with the press?" Tanner drawled, looking up in a way that made my heart do some funny things.
"Yep." And I jerked my chin at the window. "Time to get our seats before..." My words trailed off when I saw a shadow. "Rhaven!"
