Chapter 15
While the rest of the riders had taken up my show of defiance, the bullfighters still weren't picking up the ropes. Down at the gate, a group of men had started to gather, clearly waiting for the chance to get our rather expensive gear back. When I pushed into that mess, one of them spotted me.
"Cody, there's space over here," Kaleb called out. "Guys, let her through. She's shorter than Emilio!"
"Sorry," someone said, stepping aside.
Another guy pressed a hand behind my shoulder, guiding me past him. More shuffled over, giving me a clear path to lean against the panels beside Kaleb. I thanked most of them, but they were all looking out toward the dirt.
"Arena stewards are picking up the gear," Kaleb explained. "Each time they pause to refill the chutes, a few guys carry it all back."
"When the Pbr's on a commercial break," I realized. "And they're just leaving ropes out there on the dirt when the bulls are bucking?"
"Yep," a guy replied with an Australian twang. "Fuckers don't have a clue how to handle this shit."
"Cody, Sonny," Kaleb said, introducing us. "Sonny, this is the woman who's going to kick your ass."
"For now," Sonny said, flashing me a smile that was nothing more than friendly.
"Shit..." Jaxon said, dragging the word out. "Just wait until you get to see her ride."
But before he was finished talking, the other guys started pressing in, and murmurs drowned him out. Everyone was looking into the arena, so I stretched a bit, trying to see over the heavy metal door in front of me. On the other side, four men were headed this way, carrying a collection of ropes.
"Gear!" one of them called before cracking open the exit gate.
"Blue!" Kaleb said, taking a rope and lifting it so someone could claim it. "I got two black. Rawhide. One I can't tell. Canadian bell. Brazil!"
"Brazil's mine!" Gustavo called out.
Then Kaleb turned toward me, holding two ropes close. One was pink and I could only guess the other was his own.
"For you," he said, passing me the pink one. "And watch out, Cody. The press is between here and the warm-up area. You might want to go back through the cattle pens."
"Nope," I said, tossing my rope over my shoulder. "I have a few things to say."
"Oh, I want to hear this," Gustavo said, following me in the gap I made through the bodies.
And he wasn't the only one, but they didn't follow too closely. It was more like they just wanted to watch the spectacle play out. Taking a moment to settle my hat better, hoping my hair didn't look a mess now, I marched forward proudly.
Just around the corner, four different reporters were standing there with their cameras running. All of them were recording little snippets, likely for teasers that would play on their station later. It was the woman who saw me headed their way.
"Miss?" she called, making the others pause and look over. "Cody Jennings, right? The female bull rider?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said.
All of the cameras turned to me, but the woman got her microphone in my face the fastest. "Miss Jennings, are you aware of the tragedy that happened yesterday? Was that why you made a display earlier? Were you trying to look defiant?"
"Yes," I said. "Casey Davis was killed because the current team of bullfighters isn't qualified to be protecting us.
That fist in the air? That's my way of showing these men behind me that our lives mean more than an award, and I will continue to stand in defiance until we can be sure we're getting the necessary protection for a sport this dangerous. "
I figured there was no use beating around the bush.
If I wanted them to run with this as a story, I had to make it sound like a spectacle.
Lucky for me, I was getting damned good at being one.
If I made this as much about my fellow riders as the bullfighters we wanted back, then hopefully they'd take me seriously.
The other reporters scrambled to get their microphones out and angled toward me, wanting to catch that. The group of them pressed in, crowding around the woman who'd talked to me first. Behind them, the cameramen shifted to get a good angle.
"Do you think the Pbr was at fault for that accident?" one of the men asked.
"I think our normal bullfighters aren't here this weekend," I said.
"Well, except Tanner, and he's the one who got Casey cut free - and he was in the stands!
Tanner managed to make it over the rail, into the arena, and onto the bull's side before the three men working tonight could even slow the animal down.
To me, that says plenty - and now a rider is dead.
The rest of us are worried we might be next. "
"Were you close with Casey?" a different man asked.
I chuckled once at that. "I wouldn't describe our relationship that way.
Casey was my competition. He also didn't exactly like me, and I would never call him a friend.
He was still a fellow rider - just like all the rest of these men here, and I don't want to see any of them hurt, let alone killed. "
"So, is this why the cowboys aren't riding tonight?" another man asked.
I adjusted my hat again. "Sir, the first rider of the night - a guy named Jason - experienced a situation too close to what killed Casey.
Now, some of these men might consider risking their lives for a little money, but to most of us?
" I shook my head. "The safety isn't there.
How many thousands of dollars would it take for you to risk your ability to walk?
To move your arms? Multiple surgeries, concussions, broken bones, ruptured organs, and as we now have seen, death.
It's all on the table when you climb on an animal that weighs up to a ton. "
"And I'm not doing it!" Djalu Fox said as he moved in beside me. "Those of us from Australia talked about it, and we will not ride again until the wolf pack is back."
"The who?" the woman asked, because that was our name for them, not an official one.
"That's the nickname of the main team of bullfighters," I explained.
"Jorge, Isaac, and Tanner. They wear red, yellow, and purple.
Anyone who watches the videos of our past shows will be able to spot them by the jerseys they wear.
More importantly, by the wrecks they prevented.
And while the fans might enjoy watching us crash and burn, that's only fun when we get up afterwards. "
"And," Gustavo said, moving in to stand on my other side, opposite Djalu, "it still hurts.
Brazil, like Australia, has decided we will not ride until our normal safety team is back.
The number of injuries we've had since the event in Des Moines, when the safety team was switched out, is more than triple what we're used to. "
"And that is too much," I said. "But these men are tough.
That's why this is the Tough Enough series.
The Pbr advertises this sport as the toughest on dirt, and it's not an exaggeration.
Each and every one of the men here tonight has earned his way here by riding long enough to earn the points to qualify for this level of bull riding.
They've all taken their knocks, but on the Tough Enough series, we see the best bulls, the toughest judging, and the most dangerous rides.
The least we can expect is to also have the best bullfighters out there to protect us when everything goes wrong. "
"And it will go wrong," Djalu said. "On the back of a bull, eight seconds is a long, long time."
"Plus," Tim Moore said, moving a little closer, "each accident makes the next ride harder.
Cody here has been riding on her off-hand because of it.
Most of us can't do that. Instead, we try to ignore the pain.
We struggle not to get addicted to pain medicines or alcohol as we heal up.
Those bullfighters are worth their weight in gold. "
"So is this a boycott to force the Pbr to get them back?" a man asked.
"No, sir," I said. "This? It's a strike.
We are making our demands publicly. We are not going to allow this sport to use us up and discard us.
We are not here simply to make money for the organization.
Our goal is to prove ourselves, and yes, to get paid doing it, but also to make it home in one piece when we're done.
If football, soccer, and even tennis have safety requirements, then we expect the same for ourselves.
The animals deserve men who understand them, and we expect a safety team that's skilled at keeping both us and our bovine partners healthy. "
"Well said," Djalu told me. "I mean, you're right, but I probably would've had a lot more colorful language."
I chuckled at him, but the reporters weren't even close to done. "So, does this mean all of you think Casey Davis's death could've been prevented?"
I just lifted a hand. "That's not a fair question to ask.
First, because no one wants to be sued for defamation.
Second, because we all do love this sport.
Third? There's no way to know. We weren't on the bull.
We weren't on the dirt trying to turn it.
In a split second, everything could go wrong, and I think all of us know it, but right now, we do not feel safe.
Send the current bullfighters to training or something.
Bring the old team back. Add more bullfighters and outriders.
We don't care what they try, but until the Pbr tries something? " I shook my head.
"Miss Jennings?" the woman asked.
"Just Cody," I corrected.
"Yeah, because around here, she's just one of the guys," Djalu said, flashing me a smile.
So the reporter tried again. "Cody, why isn't this wolf pack working currently?"
I was going to give her a very correct answer, but I didn't get the chance. Jackson chose that moment to push in, slipping between me and Djalu so he could lean in toward her microphone.
"Tanner's suspended, and the other two wouldn't work without him. And why is he suspended?"
I quickly shot him a warning look, but while his eyes flicked over to me, he didn't slow down.
"The Pbr isn't saying!" he spat, letting all of his anger show. "Oh, Cody will try to downplay it because she doesn't want to show her favoritism. I mean, she's dating the guy, but is that why he's suspended? She's making history, and we all know she's one of the best riders here - "
"Jackson..." I begged.
"He's not wrong," Gustavo said. "You are good, and Tanner is your boyfriend, right?"
"Yeah," I mumbled.
Then he tossed an arm over my shoulder. "So trust us when we say there's something hinky about him getting suspended. Combine that with what happened last night? Well, if the Pbr wants to play games, we'll show them how that will end."
"No safety, no rides!" someone chanted behind me.
"No safety, no rides!" the others quickly picked up, repeating it over and over.
"So there you have it," the woman said, turning to face her camera.
"Clearly, the bull riders have concerns, and aren't afraid to make demands.
The real question will be what the Pbr does about it.
Are we about to see the sport of bull riding pulled apart because of a tragic accident, or will the demands of the riders improve it? Only time will tell."
But before she finished her closing, Jackson and Gustavo turned me away, both of them pressed up against my sides like we were the best of buds. I glanced back, hoping that had looked as professional as I'd wanted, but my new pals wouldn't let me slow down.
"You," Gustavo said, "are putting me to shame. I was just going to tell them we're pissed."
"But they had to know the demands," Jackson countered. "Cody did a good job of making it clear why there's a problem, and what we expect to be done about it."
"I wasn't going to mention that he's my boyfriend!" I shot back.
Jackson just grinned at me. "Why? Worried J.D. might get jealous?"
Gustavo chuckled. "Or pissed. But do you blame her? I wouldn't mind having two women chasing me."
"No, it's not - "
"Cody," Jackson said, cutting me off. "It doesn't matter. We're giving you shit because we don't care."
"And Renato said someone needs to stay with you at all times," Gustavo admitted. "Austin, Eli, and Derek will be anything but predictable this weekend, so let's try not to tempt fate, ok? One death per weekend is more than enough."
"At least it was Casey," Jackson said. "Almost feels like karma."
"Or God's wrath," Gustavo said.
"No." I stopped hard, realizing we were almost to the warm-up area. "Guys, Casey still has a family. Maybe sisters, or brothers. Definitely parents. Hell, I don't even know if he has a wife or kids. But somewhere out there, someone is mourning him. He's not a joke."
"He was a fucking prick to you," Jackson reminded me.
"Yeah," I agreed. "And yes, I hate him. I fucking hate all of them, but I can do that when the cameras are off. I will not make his family watch me bitch about him. They don't deserve that, and I would hope that if I died, no one would make my father see such things."
"Yeah, good point," Jackson mumbled.
Gustavo simply clasped my shoulder, then rubbed gently. "You're right. I know you are, but I'm not torn up about him. I'm pissed I could be next, but I don't miss him - and he did that to himself."
"Yeah, he did," I agreed. "And his best bud is why he's dead. If you want to complain, then complain about Austin. He wanted me out so badly, he set things in motion for Casey to die."
Gustavo nodded. "Yeah. But here's the thing.
He wanted you gone so badly he was willing to let one of us die.
He didn't think it would be his friends, and he sure as shit doesn't think it'll be him.
That sucks, but someone in the Pbr made it happen, and that?
" He shook his head. "I can't forgive that. "
"Me either," I agreed.