29. Indie
Chapter 29
Indie
I t’s the final day of La Fiesta De Los Vasquez which means not only do the final pots get awarded, but they’ll also award the best overall cowboy. I’m of the opinion that Tripp will win that award because of his scores, but that one day he scored lower may be against him. Alternatively, Ram could also win it since he’s the leading cowboy in the bareback bronc competition. There are a few other cowboys and a cowgirl in the running as well. The cowgirl, Jensen Blair, is an award-winning barrel racer and equally deserves to win the Best Overall title. Apparently, she’d broken records this week. I can’t help but take photos of her during her last run, noting how badass she looks.
It's no wonder she’s in the running for the top title. The woman, and her horse, Maple Stirrup, have a few world titles under their belt already.
I’m not going to lie. I’m buzzing with a high I’ve never felt before. My body still aches with the reminder of how thoroughly Ram had fucked me. I’d had to take my pain pills the last few days, a fact for which Ram had apologized, but I’d reassured him it’s worth it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
I really hope we can do it again.
He’d kissed me before we’d parted, words whispered in my ear that had made my toes curl, with a promise that his ride today would be in my honor. Which somehow makes his win sweeter to me when he claims the pot with one point higher than his rivals.
Beau had also kissed me, right after Ram, making it clear he has no intention of letting his friend have all the fun. With a wink, he’d run off onto the dirt to work his magic.
Tripp and I had stared at each other after, unspoken words hanging in the air. He didn’t kiss me, but he’d chucked me on the chin as he’d gone to prepare for his own ride. Which somehow felt more intimate from the man who I’d thought hated me. Something tells me that Tripp Savage won’t break as easily as the other two, that whatever demons dance in his eyes aren’t so easily conquered. Tripp Savage walks through life like he doesn’t belong there, and still somehow oozes confidence everywhere he goes. I don’t understand it, but I’ve never been more curious about a man than I am about him.
The press box feels claustrophobic today, so I find myself wandering the stands rather than staying in there. A few people look at me with animosity, mostly fans with blue handprints on their clothing, which makes me wonder just how many people recorded the moment Beau dragged me into the arena. A few of them gush when they see me and act a bit starstruck. Those ones make me more uncomfortable than the animosity from the other women.
When a vendor comes around touting some Beau Rogers merch, I end up buying one of the candles in amusement. It’s a prayer candle, like the kind you’d see in a store with Jesus or the Virgin Mary on it. Only this one has Beau on it, in all his hot pink glory, one hand in the saint symbol, the other flicking me off. Saint Beau apparently likes the thought of being worshipped, I think, as I study it. The words underneath his image state, “Blessed be the clowns” and I consider the purchase money well spent. If only because it’s so very chaotic like Beau is. It’ll make me laugh every time I see it.
At the end of the rodeo, the announcer comes on one last time to announce Jensen Blair as the best overall cowgirl. The audience cheers for her as she accepts the award with a practiced smile and then cheers louder when she hangs the sash they give her on Maple Stirrup’s neck. A woman and her horse share an unbreakable bond apparently.
“Hey, little outsider,” Beau says brightly as I meet up with them after the announcements. “What do you say we hit the carnival one last time?”
“Don’t we have to head to the next location?” I ask.
“Nebraska can wait,” Ram says, his eyes crinkling. “We have a bit of leisure time.”
So that’s how we end up in the carnival, each of us wearing unlimited ride bracelets that Ram paid for with his prize money. I don’t think I’ve ever just enjoyed a carnival, so hopping on small rickety rides with Beau and Ram feels like I get to be a kid again. Tripp mostly watches rather than getting on the rides, which is more than I expect from the grumpy cowboy, but every now and then, he follows us onto the ride.
Like the fun house we all go into. Ram laughs and runs ahead, Tripp following behind him with a stealth I didn’t realize he had. Beau sticks behind me but gives me enough space to fall or stay balanced myself. I do pretty well across the shaking walkway, but the spinning tunnel nearly takes me out so thoroughly that I can’ t help but laugh as I lose my balance and stumble. A man reaches in and offers me a hand and I take it gratefully, letting him help me step from the tunnel.
“Thanks,” I tell him, and figure that’s that.
When I try to release his hand, he holds fast, forcing me to stop. I furrow my brows and look up at him, tugging at my hand.
“Most ladies would thank me by giving me a kiss,” he purrs, clearly used to charming women. I’ve never seen him before, so he’s not from the circuit. When I tug at my hand again, he doesn’t let go.
“Most men wouldn’t have to help a woman from a tunnel to get a kiss,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I suggest you let my hand go.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Beau appear on the other side of the short spinning tunnel, his eyes dancing between us. He’s still wearing his clown makeup. According to him, he needed it to really enjoy a carnival fully. His grin is still plastered on his face as he takes in the situation.
“Come on,” the man says with a grin. “Don’t be a bitch.”
My brows shoot up. “How ‘bout you stop being a douchebag and realize I’m not interested?”
“Everything okay, little outsider?” Beau asks from the other end of the tunnel. I appreciate that he doesn’t immediately rush to my aid, mostly because he knows I can handle myself. I can feel the threat in his voice despite the chipper tone. The idiot who has a hold of me clearly doesn’t.
“Get your own bitch,” the man tells him. “I’ve claimed this one.”
The air shifts. I’ve only ever felt such danger in the air during my time overseas, right before the air stills and you can hear a missile in the air. The air feels electric in those time, not because of the missile, but because every hair on your body stands on end as you wait to see if you’re in its path or not.
“This lady isn’t interested,” I tell the douchebag. “Now let me go before I make you.”
He narrows his eyes, and I watch his hand twitch toward the pocketknife on his hip. I’m not sure how he got the thing in here when they make you walk through the metal detectors. Clearly, someone had been slipping.
“I suggest you not do that,” I tell him, meeting his eyes. If I can deescalate, maybe this will be fine, but I shouldn’t expect such logical actions from someone who tries to hold a woman hostage for a kiss. He’s clearly had too much to drink, if the smell of him is any indication, but that doesn’t excuse this behavior.
His hand moves toward the knife, and the electric feeling in the air increases tenfold. From the corner of my eyes, Beau shoots across the tunnel, leaping through it in barely a few steps with more grace than I’d been capable of. He’s in front of the man before I can even react, his eyes blazing fire while his smile stays firmly in place. He grabs the knife from the man’s hip and flicks it open. He has it pressed against the man’s throat before he can even move to stop him.
“Release her,” Beau says, and though he wears a smile, his voice is nothing but threatening.
The man immediately releases my hand and puts his hands up. “Hey man. My mistake,” he tries.
I assume that’ll be the end of it.
I’m wrong.
Beau nods and flicks the knife closed. “Good boy,” he tells him, before he swings. One punch to the nose, one to the eye, and an elbow to the face. It happens so quickly, I barely have time to gasp as the man drops to the metal floor, out cold. He lands on one of those spinning circles in the floor, so his body starts to spin. It’d be funny if Beau hadn’t just laid out this much bigger man with barely any effort.
Beau kneels down and stops the spin with his knee briefly. He sets the pocketknife on his chest and pats him.
‘When a lady says no, she means no,” he says with a laugh. “Also, this knife is cheap as fuck. Bad steel. Maybe upgrade that.”
He stands back up and faces me, and the danger oozes from him in waves. For the first time, I realize just how unpredictable Beau Rogers is as he grins at me, his head tilted to the side as Ram and Tripp appear from the other side, frowns on their faces as they see the spinning unconscious man.
“Now where were we, little outsider?” Beau asks me, gesturing to the rest of the funhouse, unconcerned with the event that had just happened.
Ram scowls down at the man on the floor. “What the hell happened?”
“He was accosting our Indie bird. I made him leave her alone,” Beau says with a shrug.
I can’t take my eyes off of the rodeo clown, mostly because it feels as if I shouldn’t. “I didn’t need you to do that,” I tell him. I’ve been trained to defend myself, both my classes and the military men and women who I’d spent time with. I could have handled one asshole.
Beau’s grin widens and he steps closer to me. I don’t step away, but damn if it doesn’t take all my willpower when Beau leaks so much aggressive energy. “Little outsider,” he purrs, “I’d kill for you.” He dusts my shoulder off. “Remember that.”
And then he skips over to the next shaking walkway as if he hadn’t just said both the scariest and sexiest words to me any man has ever said. “Alas! Let us continue! I’d like to win you a teddy bear from one of the scam games outside. I’m pretty sure I have ‘em figured out!”
I stare after him, not sure if I’d fucked up in letting him get attached to me or not. When I look at Ram, his expression says everything I need to know.
It’s too late now. I made my bed. It’s time to lie in it.
Somehow, that doesn’t scare me as much as it should.