26. Colt
Chapter 26
Colt
T he crowd’s roars shook the entire building. I was sitting under the grandstands in the rider’s alley, waiting to be called out so I could put on a show for everyone. Featured riders always went last, and the crowd was already on the edge of their seats. I had a feeling I was going to be the event that tipped them into a cowboy frenzy.
But I didn’t feel the same pride that I usually felt. Before rides like this I was giddy, excited, and a little anxious. Not this time though. All I felt right now was fear and worry that this would be my last ride, that I could get thrown and never walk again, or that I never see…
No. I couldn’t think about him. Not right now. I had a job to do. And no matter how much my ribs ached or how scared I was, I had to give the folks what they came for. They paid a premium for those tickets, and it was my job to make it worth every single penny.
For the past couple of days, I’d been lying low, doing everything I could not to think about what I left behind in Sagebrush. How I’d left him without so much as a goodbye. But that’s the way it had to be. It didn’t matter how many times he called or texted, I wasn’t going to answer. In fact, I’d turned off my phone all together. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing to say. And nothing that would make it all better.
Eli Daniels was gone. And I was on my own again. That’s the way it had to be.
The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, calling my name. I took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain in my side. Pushing myself to my feet, I grabbed my hat and adjusted it on my head. The familiar weight of it should have been comforting, but tonight it felt like a burden.
As I made my way towards the arena, my boots echoing on the concrete, I couldn't shake the image of Eli's face from my mind. The hurt in his eyes when I'd last seen him, the way his perfectly styled hair had been mussed from running his hands through it in worry. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts away.
The roar of the crowd grew louder as I stepped into view. I plastered on my signature cocky grin, waving to the fans as I strode towards the chute. My heart wasn't in it, but I had to push through. This was my life now. This was all I had left.
I approached the chute, eyeing the massive bull inside. He was a mean-looking beast, all muscle and anger, pawing at the ground and snorting. The bull's name was Twister, and he had a reputation for being one of the toughest rides on the circuit. Perfect. Just what I needed to get my mind off everything else.
As I climbed onto the bull's back, I could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline starting to course through my veins. For a moment, it almost drowned out the ache in my chest that had nothing to do with my injured ribs.
“You ready, cowboy?” the gate man asked, his hand on the latch.
I nodded, gripping the rope tightly. “Let 'er buck.”
The gate flew open, and Twister exploded out of the chute like a freight train. The bull's massive body twisted and bucked beneath me, every movement sending shockwaves of pain through my injured ribs. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay centered, to move with the bull's rhythm.
Eight seconds. That's all I needed to make it through. Eight seconds of pure hell.
As Twister spun and lurched, the roar of the crowd faded away. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart and the ragged sound of my breathing. My world narrowed to the feel of the bull beneath me, the rope in my hand, and the burning in my side.
Three seconds in, and I was already struggling. My grip was slipping, my balance wavering. I could feel myself starting to list to one side, my body betraying me. However, less than a second later, the bull stopped dead in his tracks. The crowd booed and I looked down. The flank strap had completely snapped, and Twister was no longer agitated enough to buck.
I slid off Twister's back, my legs shaky as they hit the dirt. The crowd's disappointment was palpable, a wave of groans and frustrated shouts washing over me. I tipped my hat to them, trying to maintain some semblance of showmanship, but my heart wasn't in it yet again.
As I made my way out of the arena, I could hear the announcer's voice booming over the speakers, explaining the equipment malfunction and promising a re-ride. My ribs were screaming, and the adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving me feeling hollow and drained. But I had to ride. That’s who I was.
I stumbled back to the rider's alley, collapsing onto a bench and burying my face in my hands. I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw the concerned face of my riding partner, Jake.
“You alright, man?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “That was a tough break out there.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Jake had been with me through thick and thin, but even he didn't know the full extent of what I was going through.
“It’s alright,” I managed to say at last. “I’m ready for the re-ride.”
“You sure?” he asked. “You look kinda pale.”
“It’s just the adrenaline.”
“I don’t know if you should?—”
“Jake,” I snapped, pushing myself up. “Don’t get in my way.”
Considering I’d never spoken to him like that before, he backed right off. The announcer called my name as I headed back down the alley. It seemed Twister was geared up again and ready to ride.
As I approached the chute for the second time, I could feel the tension in the air. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, eager to see if I could redeem myself after the equipment malfunction. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but my mind kept drifting back to Sagebrush, to Eli.
I shook my head, forcing those thoughts away. I couldn't afford any distractions now. Twister was waiting, and this time, I knew he'd be even more agitated.
I climbed onto the bull's back, wincing as my ribs protested the movement. The gate man gave me a concerned look, but I nodded firmly. “Let's do this,” I said, my voice gruff.
But before the gate could fly open again, I hear a blaring horn go off over the loudspeakers. The crowd began to shout and boo once more. Twisting on the bull’s back, I turned toward the arena only to see the last person I ever expected racing across the dirt toward my chute.
Eli fucking Daniels.
My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of him. Eli was sprinting across the arena, his usually perfectly styled hair windswept and wild, his amber eyes blazing with determination. The security guards were hot on his heels, but he was faster, more desperate.
“Colt!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos of the crowd. “Colt, stop!”
I froze, my hand still gripping the rope. Twister shifted restlessly beneath me, sensing the commotion. The gate man looked at me, confusion evident on his face.
“Sir, you need to leave!” one of the security guards yelled, closing in on Eli.
But Eli wasn't having it. He dodged their grasping hands, vaulting over the fence separating the crowd from the arena with surprising agility for a city boy. He stumbled as he landed but quickly regained his footing, racing towards me with a desperate look in his eyes.
“Colt, please!” Eli called out, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don't do this!”
I was frozen in place, torn between the urge to ride and the pull of Eli's voice. The crowd's roar had turned into a confused murmur, all eyes on the drama unfolding in the arena.
Eli reached the chute, panting heavily. His eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mixture of fear, anger, and something else I couldn't quite name. “Get off that bull right now,” he demanded, his voice low and intense.
“Sir, you need to leave the arena immediately,” a security guard said, grabbing Eli's arm.
Eli shrugged him off, never breaking eye contact with me. “I'm not leaving without you, Colt!”
I stared down at Eli, my heart pounding. The crowd's murmurs faded into the background as I took in the sight of him - disheveled, panting, his eyes burning with determination. For a moment, I forgot where I was, forgot about the bull beneath me, forgot about everything except the man standing before me.
“Eli,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“Stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” he replied, his voice fierce. “You can't ride, Colt. Not with your injuries. Not when it could...” His voice cracked. “Not when it could kill you.”
The security guards were closing in again, but Eli stood his ground. “I'm not leaving without you,” he repeated, his gaze never wavering from mine.
I felt a surge of conflicting emotions - anger at Eli for showing up like this, fear of what might happen if I didn't ride, and an overwhelming sense of longing that I'd been trying to suppress.
The cowboy at the chute loosed the flank strap on Twister, stopping the bull from driving himself to injury in the chute. I climbed off the bull and over the fence, dropped down into the dirt. A shooting pain went through my body, and I instinctively pulled a hand up to my ribs. Eli dropped down beside me, the security team surrounding us both.
“You don't understand,” I said, my voice hoarse. “This is who I am. It's all I have.”
“That's not true,” Eli insisted, taking a step closer. The security guards tensed, but he ignored them. “You have me, Colt. You have us. What we built in Sagebrush - that's real. That's worth more than any ride.”
I could feel the eyes of the crowd on us, could hear the confused murmurs. My reputation, my career, everything I'd worked for was on the line.
With a shaky breath I looked up at Eli. “Go home,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Get the hell out of here. I never want to see you again.”
He didn’t move. “I’m not leaving Colt.”
Anger flashed through me all at once. I remembered everything, the way he’d pushed and prodded me into admitting the truth, the way he left me behind all those years ago, and the way he told me he loved me and promised he’d never leave. And then he had the gall to stand here and tell me I was the one being stupid?!
“Go home!” I screamed, my ribs flaring with pain. “Leave me alone!”
“No Colt! I’m not gonna watch you kill yourself!”
Before I knew what I was doing, I reeled back in front of God and everyone, and decked Eli right in the face.
The entire world, in the blink of an eye, went silent as Eli fell to the ground.
The silence was deafening. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Eli lay sprawled in the dirt, a trickle of blood running from his nose. The crowd gasped collectively, the sound echoing through the arena like a wave.
Reality came crashing back as security guards swarmed around us. Two of them grabbed my arms, pulling me back, while others helped Eli to his feet. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, trying to regain control of the situation, but I couldn't make out the words over the ringing in my ears.
Eli's eyes met mine, wide with shock and hurt. The sight of him, disheveled and bleeding because of me, sent a jolt of regret through my body. What had I done?
And it was only made worse by the announcement blaring over the loudspeakers from the judges.
“Colt Dawson, for bad conduct and sportsmanship, has been disqualified from the competition.”
My heart sank. Everything I’d worked so hard for was gone. And judging by the amount of flashing camera lights in my direction, everyone in the entire rodeo world would know what I’d done by morning. Come tomorrow afternoon they’d want to know who Eli was and why I’d hit him. Someone would find out the truth, eventually.
And when that happened, my career and my life would be over.