Chapter 18
We made it into the bar, but the music wasn't blaring.
The place wasn't packed. The music was playing softly over the speakers and the specials were written on a blackboard behind the bar.
I knew we were early, but not that early.
Then again, tonight's show hadn't exactly been exciting, so there was nothing to celebrate.
J.D. headed for the bar to start a tab. Cody and I found a table. When J.D. returned, he had a beer in one hand, a margarita in the other, and a waitress was making her way over with a massive pitcher of water.
"Can I get you three anything else?" she asked as she put that and a glass down on the table.
J.D. passed the beer to me, slid the margarita over to Cody, then ordered nachos.
Yeah, he had a serious case of the munchies and probably some dry mouth.
He wouldn't say it, but he'd been worried tonight.
It had started before the first rider went out.
When the rookie had gotten hurt, J.D. had started making trips out of sight to hit his vape.
When Cody had thrust her fist into the air, he'd done it again.
Then more when she'd vanished from sight.
He hated that he couldn't protect her right now, and seeing the entire Pbr grind to a halt?
Well, vaping a little THC was a lot better than throwing things like he had before our girl had turned him gentle.
But the other riders showed up before his nachos did.
Cody and J.D. were talking excitedly about Max starting his own business.
I just watched them. She was this strange mix of beautifully delicate and mentally strong.
Nothing about her screamed "girly," and yet her mannerisms were all so feminine even if she might be one of the most driven people I'd ever met.
I loved the contradictions. To me, it made her so wonderfully unique.
Then there was him. J.D. was all man, from the way his eyes raked over her - or me - to how his hand gripped his glass as he guzzled water.
And yet, the way he laughed was so soft, sweet even.
Side by side, they were amazing - and more similar than different.
Yes, he was her mentor, but J.D. never babied her. Then again, he didn't baby me either.
I was sure I looked like an idiot, unable to tear my eyes away from them like I was. Every bull rider had to see it, but did I care? A month ago, I would've been willing to bet they'd beat the shit out of me. Today, I wasn't so sure. More than that, I didn't care.
Because these two had my back, and that changed every-fucking-thing.
"You're drooling," Ty said as he dragged a fourth chair over and joined us.
A chuckle behind me proved he wasn't alone. Looking back, I saw Renato hauling over another chair. A tip of his head encouraged me to scoot over, moving me closer to J.D.
"So, this strike," Renato said as he sat down. "What are we doing?"
"Didn't you two start it?" Cody asked.
My head was whipping back and forth between them, but Ty looked over at me. "We're not going to ride until we get the wolf pack back," he explained. "The question is how long this shit's going to last."
"Won't be fast," J.D. said. "The Pbr is stubborn like that."
"Kinda what I was thinking," Renato said. "Look at how long they put off making helmets mandatory."
"Still not," Cody pointed out.
"Are for those who joined the Pbr after a certain date," I told her. "Now, knowing when someone joined? Not easy. It's their way of 'phasing it in.'"
"It's bullshit," J.D. said, but stopped when a group of guys spotted him.
"J.D.!" Kaleb called out, making most of the men in the bar look over. "Hey, you finally made it out!"
"And drinking water," J.D. told him, pointing to the pitcher. "Just wanted to make sure my bros are all holding down the fort. What was that shit out there tonight anyway?" Then he looked at Ty. "I'm feeling 'em out."
"Gotcha," Ty said as Jaxon answered from across the room.
"We showed the Pbr we're not gonna be pushed around!"
And the place erupted into cheers as the other riders showed their agreement. From a table at the side, someone yelled out my name. Weakly, I lifted a hand, letting him know I'd heard. That made others raise their beers in my direction.
"Someone buy our matador a drink!" a guy yelled over the ruckus.
"Already did!" J.D. shot back.
But this felt wrong. Uncomfortable even. Ducking my head, I did my best to focus on the beer before me, but that didn't work as well as I'd hoped. J.D. simply reached over to clasp my shoulder. The gesture was friendly and nothing more, but the way I looked up? Fuck.
So I pushed to my feet, deciding there was no better time than the present to just get this out there. "Guys!" I bellowed, patting the air to calm them down.
"Speech! Speech!" Jackson begged, but the rest finally quieted up.
"Not a good one," I told them. "Look, all of you risked a lot today for us. Jorge and Isaac will appreciate it, I'm sure. I know I do, but here's the thing."
"Fuck the Pbr for screwing with our matadors!" Jaxon, the American one, yelled out.
I chuckled at his enthusiasm, but mostly to hype myself up. "Yeah, but I don't think I'm coming back, guys."
"What?" Ty asked. "Why?"
Yeah, that was the hard part. Right now, I could lay it all out there, but what good would that do?
The Pbr wanted me gone, and I wasn't about to play the straight man again.
I just didn't want to, but this wasn't exactly the place to pick that fight.
There were too many of them and not enough of us.
My best bet would be to explain all the rest.
"When the directors of the Pbr want someone gone, they stay gone," I told them. "If I push this - and trust me, jumping into the damned arena last night was pushing it - they'll fire me. Not just suspend me for the rest of this season. They'll make sure I can't come back."
"Fuck that!" J.D. snapped.
I lifted a hand, holding him - and all the rest of these guys - off. "Look, Jorge and Isaac aren't suspended. They could come back tomorrow if they wanted, and we all know you need them out there, but they'll need a third. So which one of those guys are the lot of you willing to work with?"
"No," Cody said, crossing her arms and leaning back to glare at me.
"Yes," I told her. "I do not want to see any of you get hurt out there. Especially not you, Cody, and that's all that's happening right now."
"And you're the one who makes the saves," Gustavo pointed out. "You, Tanner, are the crazy fucker who jumps in front of the bull."
"Fucking hits them before they can hit us!" Jackson Cloutier added.
Which made the room murmur in agreement, and while that felt nice, it didn't solve this problem.
"You're not giving Jorge and Isaac enough credit," I told them. "They could train one of those guys up in a few shows."
"Which puts us right at finals," Renato reminded me.
"Finals, Tanner. The best bulls. The hardest bucks.
The biggest crowds. And you think we want to have some half-trained idiot, one too selfish to even pick up our ropes, let alone check on us when we're hurt, out there getting in the wolf pack's way? "
"I think it's better than having three of them," I countered. "I also think the Pbr will drag this out as long as they can."
"They will," Jake said as he walked over from the door.
Clearly he'd only just gotten here, but he'd heard at least part of that.
"The management knows most of you can't afford to keep going without a payout.
They're hoping your sponsors will pressure you to ride by withholding money if you don't. The Pbr can afford to play the long game, and a strike?
It gets them media attention, which is basically free advertising. "
"Not the good kind," Cody said, waving for him to grab a chair with us. "Considering how many people already think we harm the bulls? Crushing their balls to make them buck and bullshit like that." She shook her head. "Not all attention is good attention, Jake."
"Maybe not," he agreed, snagging a chair, then placing it between her and Ty. He didn't sit, though. Instead, he kept talking to the entire room. "So, convince the Pbr this isn't helping them. That'll take what, a month? More? Right, that puts us at finals again."
"Which means we're fucked no matter what we try," I told the room.
"Guys, I'm only suspended for the rest of this season.
Let's get Jorge and Isaac to work with one of those idiots - because we all know the two of them will be enough.
I'll still be chasing my girl around, so I'm not leaving you high and dry, and this way I can come back next year. "
"No." I turned, trying to follow the voice and spotted Wes Gilbert.
He was curled over his beer, but watching me much too intently.
"We all know this isn't really about you.
It's about your girlfriend. They want her gone, and suspending you means the chances of her getting hurt go up.
Well, same for the rest of us, but the Pbr thinks we won't break as easily. They're also wrong."
"Fuck yeah, they are," Ty agreed. "And the fact that Mr. Merrill came to yell at us? Jake, tell me that doesn't mean something."
"Means he's pissed," Jake said. "Pretty sure we all noticed that."
"And went at Cody!" Jackson yelled, shoving to his feet. "Ty and Renato started this, but Cody got the blame!"
"Because I raised my fist," she pointed out.
But J.D. said, "Nope. It's because you talked to the press. Rookie, that's the way to hit the Pbr the hardest."
And a smile began to twist Cody's lips. Not a happy one, but the devious kind. Slowly, she turned in her chair so she could see the rest of the bull riders a little better.
"Y'all, to me that sounds like we all need to start talking to reporters."
"And then?" Wes asked.
Her damned smile was starting to look a lot like the one J.D. always wore. "Then we double down. No riding tomorrow. Let Austin, Eli, and Derek do their thing. Let them get hit by the bulls and see how long they keep coming back!"
And that? Oh, those words made everyone in this place cheer. Somehow, she'd found the exact rallying cry they needed, but she wasn't done yet. Easing herself to her feet, she patted the air to make them pay attention.
"Mr. Merrill is coming at me because it's easy. So sure, I'll keep dealing with him."
"Not alone, you won't," Ty insisted.
"I'm with Ty on this," Renato said, then he looked over at Jake.
"What?" Jake asked.
"You're the top American rider right now," Cody told him.
But Jake just pointed at J.D. "Am not!"
"And I ain't riding," J.D. reminded him. "So this weekend, ya are. Because if you don't step up, boy, then my rookie's gonna do my talkin' for me."
Jake simply gestured to Cody with both hands as if passing something over.
"And I think that settles it. This woman right here?
She's gonna take the hits anyway, so maybe she deserves a little of the respect too, hm?
Canada, America, and Brazil all have a clear leader now.
And speaking of that..." He waved Cody back to her seat.
But what the fuck was he doing? I'd been sure these people had just come to a decision, and now it felt like Jake was changing the subject. Around the room, guys looked over at their friends, clearly thinking the same thing.
"Last night, a few of you were worried about how we can keep doing this, right? Collective bargaining, someone said."
"That was Ty," Jackson told him.
"And I'm the one worried about money," Sonny said.
Jake nodded. "Well, these three told me to figure out a plan.
I've got one. We're going to help each other.
Think of it like the buddy system, but bigger.
All of you have a few buddies already. Well, make more.
Make sure everyone has the gas to get to the next place.
Share hotels if you have to. And if you can't make it work, text me.
I'll ask around for you, but all of you need to think about what you can actually give.
If we work this as a stair step system, going from groups to country leadership, to all of the Pbr riders?
Yeah, we can make it work. Because no, I'm not going to hang on to everyone's money and try to remember who gave what, but I will be the one to do the begging for you if any of you need help. Is that good enough?"
"Don't want fucking charity," one of the new guys grumbled.
"But it's not charity," Cody told him. "This?
It's called cooperation. I know my sponsors aren't penalizing me, so I'm willing to chip in for the ones who aren't that lucky.
It's my way of making sure my power isn't lost because of money.
You're helping me, so I'm helping you back. It's called teamwork, people."
"This isn't a team sport," Wes reminded her.
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Cody told him.
"What are the bullfighters if not our team?
Aren't the bulls our partners? This is a team sport, just not like all those other sports you think of.
No, we're good enough to mix and match our teams second by second, and you know what?
It will never be us against each other. It will always be us against the bulls, so we're on the same fucking side! "
And when the cowboys in the room began to cheer again, I realized my girl was even better at this than I'd realized. Cody was good. She was terrifyingly good. Even better, she was on my side.
I just wasn't ready to start hoping yet.