Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Lucas and Kenny, another young guy who had gone through the program a couple of years ago, were shouting, fists pumping like it was a championship match.
Ezra stood beside them, hollering and laughing, along with a handful of ranch hands and clients.
Tiny stood off to the side, watching with amusement alongside Rebel, one of Birdie’s second cousins, who she called her pre-Viking wingman.
Dust kicked up around Dare’s boots as he leaned harder, jaw set. His cowboy hat tumbled to the ground, and Taz bit out, “That all ya got, mate?”
“Well, hell,” Hyde said. “Guess it’s that time.”
“What time’s that?” Crew asked.
“Time to act like fools and have some fun before the event starts,” Hyde said. “Let’s go.”
“Nah, man. I’m good.”
“My ass you are.” Hyde grabbed Crew’s sleeve, dragging him toward the crowd. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Dare.”
“I’m not afraid of anyone,” Crew gritted out, reluctantly heading for the crowd. “I just don’t want to get in the way of his having fun.”
“Shit. You couldn’t stop Dare from having fun if you tried. He’s a competitive motherfucker. Nothing gets him higher than a good win.”
Crew saw Tiny watching them as they approached the crowd.
Crew stayed on the outside as Hyde got in the middle of the commotion, hollering at Taz to beat Dare’s weak ass, which only made Dare double down.
Dare’s face turned red, his boots digging deeper as he dragged Taz inch by inch toward the rope centerline.
Taz’s heels skidded, and Dare gave another hard yank, knocking Taz off-balance.
Taz cursed, landing hard. Dare stumbled but caught himself, dragging Taz across the centerline.
An explosion of cheers, boos, heckles, and whistles rang out. Dare dropped the rope and threw his fists up in the air, taking a victory lap in front of the crowd. “Still the king!” he hollered, and gave high fives to Lucas and Kenny.
“My humble son,” Tiny called out, earning more laughter.
Dare picked up his hat and placed it on his head, then held a hand out, pulling Taz up to his feet. “Appreciate the workout. You’re almost as strong as Billie.”
The crowd howled.
Taz flipped him off, but he was grinning, too.
Dare rolled his shoulders, eyeing the crowd. “Who’s next?”
“You already beat all of us,” Doc shouted.
A rumbling of agreement rose from the others.
Dare locked eyes with Crew. “Hendricks. Get in here.”
The crowd went quiet, all eyes turning to Crew.
Fuck. “No thanks.”
“Don’t be a chickenshit,” Dare taunted. “Get your ass in here.”
Crew shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“What’s the matter? No engine, no courage?” Dare challenged.
Crew clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying shit back.
“Dare,” Cowboy warned.
“Or maybe you’re suddenly thinking about consequences,” Dare bit out, stalking toward Crew, the air between them snapping with tension.
“Jesus, Dare,” Doc said sharply.
Crew’s entire body flexed, his fingers curling into fists.
“Get in there, mate,” Taz called out.
“Yeah, don’t let his shit talking scare you off,” someone else shouted.
“Man up or move on,” Dare sneered.
Crew narrowed his eyes. “This seems pretty important to you, so I’ll play your stupid game.”
“There you go!” Hyde said.
More cheers and whistles rang out as Crew headed for the rope, trapped in his own head. This was a no-win situation. Winning would further piss off Dare. Losing would give Dare another thing to hold over his head. That was probably the better choice.
Dare picked up the rope, staring Crew down as he picked up his end. Crew’s palms were sweaty beneath his gloves. No part of him wanted to face off with Dare like this, yet here they were. Dare planted his boots in the earth like this was war, and Crew was pretty sure in Dare’s head, it was.
Tiny stepped up to the center of the rope, eyeing each of them, his expression stoic. He raised one hand. Crew’s pulse kicked up as Tiny dropped his arm. Crew waited a split second until the rope snapped before putting his weight into it.
The crowd cheered louder. They thought this was a game. Crew knew better.
This was a test he didn’t want to take.
His and Dare’s eyes remained locked on one another, each man gripping the rope like their lives depended on it. Crew planted his boots in the dirt. Dare might need this win, but Crew wasn’t going to make it easy.
Female voices filtered in, and Crew caught a blur of color in his periphery. His eyes searched for Birdie without his direction, finding her watching him from the hillside with her sister and the other girls.
Dare yanked, and Crew stumbled forward. Fuck. Some Neanderthal part of him snapped. The part that didn’t register guilt or what this stupid fucking game meant to Dare. The part that only saw the woman he adored watching him compete, unleashing a visceral need to dominate, to prove he was worthy.
A growl tore from his lungs, his heels digging into the dirt, every muscle engaged like he was hauling a ship through icy water.
The crowd cheered louder, but it was white noise to the primal beast roaring inside him.
Dare stumbled, inching closer to the centerline.
Crew’s biceps and thighs burned as he put all his might into it, every backward step dragging Dare closer to that line. Closer to victory.
Crew gave a brutal yank, and the rope went slack in his hands.
Cheers exploded around him, sending the world rushing back in a wave of shouts, laughter, and the slap of hands on his back.
Crew stood there, his chest heaving as he registered Dare pushing up from the ground, where he’d fallen over the line.
The rope dropped from Crew’s hands.
What the fuck did I do?
“YES!” FLEW FROM Birdie’s lips before she could think better of it. Shitshitshit.
Sasha, Billie, and Quinn were giving her sideways looks.
“What?” Birdie said, as if her heart wasn’t stuck in her throat.
“Why are you cheering for him?” Sasha demanded.
Scrambling to cover her tracks, she said, “Because Dare’s been a dick to him for weeks. It’s about time someone took him down a notch.”
“Still,” Sasha said.
“Oh, please. Since when do you think it’s okay to be a dick to anyone?” Birdie challenged.
Sasha and Quinn exchanged a look that Birdie didn’t have the patience to try to decipher.
“Get over it,” Birdie said, and turned a softer tone on Billie. “Sorry, Billie. I hate what happened to you and Dare, but I’ve seen the looks Dare gives Crew, and Crew’s still here every day busting his ass, trying to make amends for something he knows he can never make up for.”
Billie’s mouth pinched tight. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Better get your costumes on,” Simone called out as she strutted over wearing a green-and-white medieval Renaissance dress with a laced-up corset. “Families will be here soon.”
“Holy cow, Simone, you look gorgeous,” Quinn said.
“Thanks,” Simone said. “I just saw Cutter dressed as Woody from Toy Story. I told him he looked cute, and he goes, If the name fits, wear the costume.”
Laughter and comments ensued.
To Birdie’s relief, the conversation shifted to costumes, and her world slowly righted itself. Sort of.