Epilogue
Jovie
One Year Later
I’m standing in the medical tent with my hands buried in a pair of gloves when the roar of the crowd shakes the walls.
I glance toward the monitor just in time to see Axle burst from the chute.
My heart lodges itself in my throat.
It doesn’t matter how many rides I watch. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen him do this. Every single time feels like the first.
The bull explodes beneath him.
Eight seconds later, the buzzer sounds. Axle hits the ground hard but bounces right back to his feet.
The arena erupts.
“Ninety-one point nine points!”
I grin.
Then the grin disappears as the camera pans to him, and I see blood already streaming down the side of his face.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
A few minutes later, he strides into the medical tent, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Dr. Chastain is already cleaning the gash on his forehead when I push through the curtain.
“Seriously?” I demand.
Axle flashes that crooked grin. “What?”
“You’re in a wedding next weekend.”
He laughs. “Charli’s marrying Bryce Raintree. She’ll be lucky if her groom shows up in a tux instead of a neck brace.”
I growl.
Dr. Chastain just shakes his head as he finishes cleaning the cut and applies butterfly closures.
“Good to go,” he says.
Axle stands.
I smooth a hand over his vest. “No more blood.”
He bends down and kisses me softly. “Love you, Doc.”
“Love you too.”
I point toward the arena. “Now go kick Bryce Raintree’s ass.”
He laughs as he exits the tent.
The final ride of the night.
I pace along the fence near the arena floor while thousands of fans scream around me.
Axle climbs into the chute.
Royce stands beside him, talking quietly.
The giant screen flashes the numbers—92.25.
That’s what he needs.
Anything less, and the gold buckle belongs to Bryce.
My stomach is in knots as he settles onto the bull.
But he looks cool as a cucumber as his hand goes into the air, and he nods.
The gate swings open, and the crowd goes wild as the bull launches violently into the air. Twisting, kicking, spinning.
Yet, somehow, Axle looks like he’s having fun.
I hear one of the commentators shouting over the speakers, “Axle Trust is absolutely in rhythm with this animal!”
My pulse pounds in my ears as the clock counts. One second. Three. Five. Seven. The buzzer sounds. Eight.
Axle launches from the bull’s back and lands cleanly.
Then he jumps and throws his fist into the air.
The arena explodes.
I stop breathing as we wait for the score to hit the monitor. It takes forever.
The board finally flashes—92.37.
For a moment, everything stands still.
Then, “And he has done it, folks. Axle Trust is your Pbr World Champion!”
The words echo through the arena.
The crowd gets so loud that I can barely hear myself crying as tears spill down my cheeks.
Across the dirt, Bryce is already sprinting toward him, and the moment he reaches Axle, he lifts him completely off the ground.
Royce crashes into them a second later.
Three grown men laughing, yelling, celebrating like little boys.
Arena personnel quickly guide Axle toward the center of the dirt while the crowd continues to roar around him. His gold buckle is already around his waist, and perched proudly on his head is his brand-new Outlaw Heritage hat.
The television interviewer steps beside him with a microphone. “Axle, how does it feel to be the number one bull rider in the world?”
Axle laughs, still trying to catch his breath. “Incredible.”
The crowd cheers again.
“Your focus and determination were on full display tonight. Going into that final ride, you were neck and neck with Bryce Raintree, who you’ve mentioned before is one of your heroes. How confident were you, coming into tonight?”
Axle glances toward Bryce, who is standing nearby, grinning like a proud brother.
“I’d say hopeful, not necessarily confident. Bryce is an absolute legend, and it could’ve gone either way. Just look at the final score. I don’t think there’s ever been a slimmer margin.”
The crowd applauds while Bryce gives him a playful shove from behind.
The interviewer laughs. “Well, I know you’re ready to get to your team, so we’ll wrap this up. Can you tell us anything about how you plan to celebrate tonight?”
A mischievous grin spreads across Axle’s face. “Yeah. The crew and I are gonna have a great meal at Colton’s Smokehouse, and I’m sure we’ll crack open a few bottles of Bull Rope Whiskey.”
The crowd whistles and cheers.
“But first, I’m gonna find my girl.”
His eyes scan the arena as he reaches over his shoulder and grabs the folded T-shirt hanging there. He snaps it open and holds it toward the camera.
It’s a brand-new Pbr World Champion shirt with his picture splashed across the front.
He looks straight into the camera. “Time to burn that sleep shirt, baby!”
The arena absolutely loses its mind.
I bury my face in my hands as laughter and cheers erupt all around me.
The interviewer steps back as the rest of the crew surrounds Axle.
The newly crowned Pbr World Champion stands in the middle of the arena with thousands of people watching, looking way too pleased with himself as his eyes scan the crowd until they finally find me.
His smile softens, and he opens his arms.
One of the staff members opens a gate to let me in, and I run straight into him.
My million-dollar cowboy.