Chapter 18 #2
"I'm staying at Jax's to train. I'll see you at the rodeo," I tell her, then exit her office before she can argue.
For the next few days, sharp stings cut through my thighs the second I swing my leg over the gate and land on the other side. My muscles scream. My back tightens. Every step I take fans the flames licking my insides.
"Damn, Jax," I curse under my breath after every ride.
He's been working me harder than I ever remember. Every morning, predawn drills. Every afternoon, drills. Every night, drills. Mounting, dismounting, balance training, core work, strength exercises, repetition until my muscles tremble and the ice bath feels like heaven and hell rolled into one.
It still doesn't touch the soreness.
Sooner than I know it, Whispering Junction's Boots, Bucks & Mistletoe Rodeo is in full swing. The holiday lights flicker against the clear, bitter air. The packed arena rumbles with laughter, shouts, and the unmistakable boom of country music vibrating throughout the grandstands.
The limp I caught two days earlier is more pronounced tonight, but I force myself to keep moving.
I shouldn't even be here, but there's no way in hell I'm letting those cocky riders near Willow without me around.
And I'm not losing my opportunity to prove to Willow I'm worth her time and effort—professionally or personally.
For several minutes, I scan the rider area before I see Willow.
She stands next to Jericho, Colt, and the others on her team.
All of them are decked out in their gear, chatting and throwing smug looks around the arena like they own the place.
She's smiling at something one of them said, but when her eyes catch mine, her face tightens.
Nothing has changed. She still doesn't want me here.
Hell, none of her riders do. They barely tolerate my presence, but I don't give a damn.
Jax appears at my side, slapping a hand on my back. I wince but keep my mouth shut.
"Gear up," he orders.
Willow storms over, fury flashing in her eyes. "He's not riding."
"Stay out of this, Willow—"
"Jax, are you serious? He's injured. He's limping. He's in no condition to ride."
Jax crosses his arms. "It's his decision."
She whips toward me, voice tight. "You'll get tossed off in three seconds flat. That's not going to prove anything to sponsors."
I glance between them. "If I don't ride, I'll never get another shot."
"You'll ruin your career if you get thrown. They'll see you as weak, reckless—"
"Or they'll see me as a man who doesn't back down," I cut in, then add, "I have to prove I belong. To you. To them. To everyone who fired me."
Willow shakes her head in disbelief. "This isn't the way. You're not ready."
I firmly state, "I'm riding." Ignoring Willow's glare, I ask Jax, "Where's my gear?"
He replies, "Trailer."
Without waiting, I limp off toward the trailer, every step hammering my joints, but the fire in my chest drowns out the pain. I step into the dressing room, wincing.
The door flings open behind me. Willow barrels into the room, shutting the door. She shouts, "You've got more dust than sense between your ears!"
"It's my only shot."
"Wyatt, listen to me." Her voice cracks, her hands fisting at her sides. "You're not thinking clearly. If you get thrown, no one will sign you. This isn't the way to fix your career."
I pull on my chaps, trying not to show any pain in front of her. "If I win, you're spending New Year's Eve with me."
"What?" she scoffs.
I grin. "To celebrate."
"The only thing you're doing is ruining your career and heading to the hospital, maybe in a body bag. You have no chance to win in the condition you're in, and you know it," she claims.
I grunt. "Then you shouldn't have a problem taking my bet."
She stays quiet.
I fasten my gear. "So it's settled. If I win, I get what I want. A deal is a deal."
She narrows her eyes. "And if you lose?"
"If I lose, you can decide what you want. Anything. I'll owe you. But I'm not losing, so don't think too hard, sugar."
Her jaw tenses, and she exhales sharply. "You're impossible."
I step closer so she can't miss the emotions and intensity behind my words. "I have to do this, Willow. For the agents who fired me. For every stupid mistake I've made. And for you. So I can start paying you back."
Her throat bobs as she swallows. She insists, "This isn't the way to pay me back."
"Sure it is. But don't forget our bet," I remind her, waggling my eyebrows.
She shakes her head. "You better not get hurt."
I flash her a crooked grin. "Sugar, that's always a risk." Before she can argue again, I step past her and out into the arena.
The chanting vibrates around me, and the world fades to just me and the beast I'm about to ride. Adrenaline ignites in my veins. I lower myself onto the bull. His muscles coil like loaded springs. My grip tightens around the rope.
Jax leans into the gate. "Make this count."
"I intend to." I give the signal to Bucky.
The gate flies open.
The first jump jerks my body forward. The second nearly snaps my spine. I grit my teeth, locking every muscle, riding with pure instinct.
One Texan.
Two Texan.
Three Texan.
Fire shoots through my sciatica.
I nearly fall off but grip the rope harder.
Time stretches into an eternity.
Four Texan.
Five Texan.
Another shot of fire races through my spine.
Six Texan.
Seven Texan.
The bull twists hard left, then bucks high, snapping into a spin that tests every bit of my strength.
Somehow, I stay on him.
The buzzer blares.
I fly off the bull, landing hard but rolling out of the way before the beast charges past.
The arena erupts in cheers.
I run to the safety zone, adrenaline masking the pain. When I'm out of danger, it wears off.
I limp toward Willow as the announcer shouts my score. The crowd roars.
She runs to me, fury and relief mixing with excitement in her expression. "You idiot."
I grin. "Be ready at six tomorrow. And pack an overnight bag."
Her eyes narrow. "Wyatt—"
"You made a deal. I held up my end. Hold up yours."
"I never said I agreed." She fights a smile, but the shimmer in her eyes tells me another story.
"You didn't say no," I remind her, grinning bigger, and knowing she'll follow through.
And for the first time in a long while, I know I'm back in the game, but not just with my career.