Fuck my life.
Chapter 3
Trey
Knox
Come up to the house.
Trey
Food ready?
Knox
Sure.
Trey
Sure? What does that mean?
Knox
Just come up here.
If I’m getting out of this camper, there better be food, or I’ll be pissed. Climbing in and out of the camper is a little difficult and slightly painful these days. But twisting, stairs, and sitting are all painful right now. Lying in bed, doomscrolling, or playing Xbox are the only activities that don’t make me wince in pain.
79 points. I was 79 freaking points—which was generous—on a junk bull to win zero dollars. Instead, I won one MRI and two sizeable bills from a spine specialist. Two herniated disks later, I’m out for a minimum of eight weeks—probably longer—and I’m salty about it. If I’m going to get hurt, it could at least be on a bucker to win some money. I’m not hurting for money, but it still irks a guy to get hurt on a bull that the rodeo company never should’ve brought to such a large event.
I make my way out of the camper and up to Knox and Kacey’s house, careful to take the few stairs gingerly. Nerve pain is a son of a bitch. It’s never the same for two people, and steroids only help so much. The burning sensation that shoots down my back and into my thighs makes it hard to breathe sometimes. It’s only been a few days, and the steroids seem to help a little each day, but certain movements or sitting for long periods almost do me in. There is no way I could ride right now.
“Hey, girl.” I greet Kacey’s dog, Rein, paying my pet tax before opening the front door with asqueak.
“Do you feel good about making a cripple walk all the way up here without a promise of food?” I joke as I make my way across the open living space to the kitchen. I can smell the food already.
“Why would you think there’s no food? We feed you every night.” Kacey turns to me with a frown.
“And morning,” Knox grumbles.
“The way Knox summoned me, it felt more like being called to the principal’s office than dinner.” I pull out a barstool at the island, trying to figure out the best way to sit without wanting to die.
Knox shifts in his seat and runs his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “Stop being so dramatic. We need to talk.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” I gasp.
Kacey laughs from across the kitchen, clearly not as uncomfortable as her boyfriend right now.
What the hell is going on?
“No one is breaking up, but I do have a plan.” Kacey smiles conspiratorially. “And it’s perfect for everyone; you get a place to live, she gets rent money, and we get our driveway back. Plus, you’ll have to move somewhere when Knox leaves for rodeos anyway.” Kacey rambles on.
Perfect for who? Who gets rent money? Move where?
I’m missing something. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“I found you a place to live while you recover, maybe even longer, if you don’t kill each other.”
Kill each other?
