Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Shit on a stick, Boston in January was fucking frigid. There’d never been cold like this in the history of cold—and there’d been a long history of cold.
Coke stood in the arena wearing twelve layers of unders and two layers of overs. “Shit, Nattie. Coop ain’t going to survive this shit.”
He wasn’t totally convinced he was going to survive, but compared to Coop, he was in great damn shape.
“I know. He’s like the Tin Man, Hoss. We’ll have to oil all his joints.”
“Shit, this is fucking ridiculous. Whose idea was this?”
Troy walked by. “Ace.”
“He’s little. I vote we kill the bastard.”
Snorting, Troy waved. “Good luck on that. Steele’s been trying for years.”
“Yeah, well he’s damn near as slow as Andy Baxter.”
“Speaking of,” Troy stopped, shuffled paper. “I see he’s here. Riding. It’s about time. What about Scott? Surely he’s been cleared by now.”
“Not yet, man. He’s around here somewhere, though. Visiting with Beau, I think.” Hiding in plain sight, just like the plan.
Jase was actually working hard on keeping his eyes focused, stopping them from doing wild things.
Bax was the basket case, not Jason.
Dillon jogged by, grabbing Troy’s hat on the way. “Can’t catch me!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Can’t you control him?”
“Not a chance.” And Coke loved it. “I kinda want to watch you run, Troy.”
“Bullshit.” Troy waved at the new gate puller, Jordan. “Go get my hat, son.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Oh, man.” Nate shook his head. “That’s so cheating.”
“I know. The bulls aren’t happy around the weather either. They just want to eat and shit.” Troy winked. “I know how they feel. Coke, how’s Coop? Do we need to call Badger in? Or Fred? He might be closer.”
“I’ll let him work tonight, I’ve already got Fred in town, just hanging.”
“Oh, good deal. I like it when y’all do your jobs.”
Coke didn’t take offense. God knew there were enough folks who waited to be told what to do. That just wasn’t his idea of a good time. He much preferred to beg forgiveness than ask permission. Hell, he wasn’t all that into begging, either.
Forgiveness, yeah. That he was working on. Dillon helped.
Speaking of, he heard Dillon squeal, the sound amused but surprised at the same time. He glanced over to see Packer streaking away with Dillon’s hat, the big Aussie grinning like a monkey. Dillon was sitting in the dirt, laughing like a loon.
He shook his head, grinned. “Okay, Troy. I’m going to run up and grab me a cup of coffee, see the Cajun. I’ll be back in an hour.”
He lifted one hand to Dillon, then he started jogging up the stairs to the box seat where he knew Beau and Jason were. The champ and the up and coming champ, according to sports news. Jason was still a player the big wigs would back.
Beau stood, reaching out to shake his hand. “Cher. Look who I got.”
“Hey, son. How goes it?”
Jase was pale as milk, but there was a determined set to his lips. “I’m all right. Waiting for Bax to ride, then I’ll head out.”
“You seen anyone?” Did you fake it well enough to pass?
“Kynan tried to catch us, but Jason didn’t have to act any different to get rid of him.” Beau winked.
Coke hooted. “I love it! That little turd has his head so far up his butt he blinks out his bellybutton.”
“AJ is gonna kill him. He seems to have it in for that tall drink of water.”
Jason snorted. “My money is on Aje.”
“That’s a sucker bet, son. I won’t take it.”
“I know.” Jason grinned, and for a moment he seemed so normal that another piece of Coke’s heart cracked off. He wanted to go back to the night Jase was hurt, protect that poor head.
Beau gave him a knowing look. “Send someone with some nachos, huh?”
“I can do that. You keep your chins up, huh?”
“We got this, cher.” Beau nodded, and Jason chuckled, seeming to stare at him.
Lord, this could actually work.
He nodded. “I gotta get my happy ass to work. Coop’s miserable in this cold and I’m fearing that he’ll just curl up and die about the third round in.”
“Fred is here. I heard him.” Jase grinned, so proud he could tell.
“Yeah. He’s being alternate.” He didn’t praise Jase, because why congratulate someone on something they’re supposed to be able to do?
“You be careful down there,” Beau told him. “We need your neck in, well, as many pieces as it’s in right now.”
“Yeah. Breaking it again would suck.”
“Third time’s a charm and all that?”
He flipped Jason off and Beau cackled at him. “Does it count less, cher, when he can’t see it?”
“I reckon. Y’all be good up in here.”
“If we can’t, we won’t get caught,” Jason murmured, and for a moment it was all just like old times, the refrain so familiar. “Can we do lunch tomorrow, Coke? I’m ready to start talking small events and I need to know I can count on a bullfighter or two.”
“You got it. You want to just meet in our suite, avoid listening ears? Tag and Nattie can come, Balta.”
“We’ll order pizza and just hide.” Beau nodded, grinned at him. “He’s ready to ride, Coke.”
“Thank God for that.” Coke felt lighter in his chest, his smile not straining so much. “I’m on it, Jase. I’ll iron out some stuff tonight.”
“Thanks, Gramps. Be safe out there tonight.”
“Always.” He nodded and stood, his back cracking and popping away as it was wont to do. “Always. Still, say a prayer, huh? God protects fools and cowboys.”
“Amen,” Beau and Jason said.
“Yessir.”
He tipped his hat and headed into the arena to do what the good Lord had put him here to do.