Chapter 36
I dragged my ass into Nashville late Wednesday night. It had to be near midnight when I arrived, but then again, I'd left North Carolina later than I'd wanted thanks to my father. That bastard had cornered me, wanting to know what the fuck was going on.
So I'd made it clear the riders weren't joking around.
Casey's death had galvanized something in them, and he'd be an idiot to ignore it.
There had been a few threats tossed back and forth, although that wasn't new.
But when he'd finished our little ‘chat’ by informing me the woman from Deviant Games wasn't exactly a woman?
That close-minded, backwoods-thinking, arrogant son of a bitch couldn't be my father. If he was, I sure hoped I hadn't inherited any genetics from him. Yeah, I knew that wasn't how it worked, but each time I talked to him made me hate him a little more than I had before.
It also gave me a whole new appreciation for the shit women went through.
The men in the Pbr thought nothing of throwing a woman in their bed and having a little fun.
Those women? How many ended up having their lives changed forever because of it?
How many babies were born wondering why their daddy wasn't in their lives?
And sure, I'd had my share of fun too, but I'd always left those women with my number at the very least. A few, I'd tried to start something with, but long-distance relationships weren't exactly easy.
The ones started in the heat of the moment and finished before the passion became more than a flash in the pan?
They didn't stand a chance. And so, I was a happily single man, doing my single thing, and making sure I always had enough condoms on hand so I wouldn't repeat my father's mistakes.
But a day of driving and thinking had worn me out. Even better, I slept hard. But when I woke the next morning and checked my phone, I saw a notification waiting for me from Ty. I checked it, realizing I'd missed a few messages from him while I'd been on the road.
I swiped at the screen, calling him even as I tossed off my blankets and got out of bed. He answered on the second ring.
"When are you getting here, Jake?"
"I got in late last night and passed out. Sorry, I just saw your texts. What's up?" I asked.
"What room?"
"Uh..." I headed over to the paperwork I'd gotten last night. "Twelve twenty-one."
"So twelfth floor." He murmured. "Ok, I'm on my way."
"The fuck?" I asked. "Ty, I literally just woke up."
"Then put on pants. Your timing is great. I'll buy the coffee upstairs."
"Up - " I stopped myself. "Yeah. Sure." But he'd already hung up.
I grumbled to myself as I found some clean clothes and my toothbrush.
Looking in the mirror, my face was a little scruffier than I liked, but I wasn't trying to impress anyone yet.
I just needed to look like a whole-ass person.
Hopefully, one who was going to get a very large, very expensive coffee for this.
I'd just rinsed my mouth out when there was a heavy thump at the door.
Heading over, I yanked that open, surprised to see Ty dressed like a normal person instead of the Pbr's playboy.
A grunt invited him in because I still needed boots and my hat.
Then again, Ty didn't have his, so I wasn't sure what sort of thing he was dragging me to.
"What's going on?" I demanded. "And do I need my hat?"
"Nope," he assured me. "We're meeting with Peter McClain. You know, the bullfighter in blue."
And now he had my complete attention. "Why?"
"Because his father owns Black Hat Ranch." Ty lifted his chin proudly, waiting for me to put it all together.
"Speed Bump?" I asked, because yeah, I knew that ranch.
He nodded. "Yup, and I don't know how to get any reporters to come out here and talk to me about the shit in North Carolina. I have no clue how to make the news care about us, but I ran into Cletus, and he's playing ball. Well, as much as he can without getting fired."
"Makes sense," I agreed as I stomped my feet into my boots. "So how does Speed Bump play into this?"
"He's going to be in Nashville," Ty said. "Well, the whole damned string from Black Hat Ranch will. And you know what happened to those bulls last weekend? All of them dropped rankings. They're losing money, Jake, so we need to push the stock owners, not the media!"
Oh, shit. Ok, that was a damned good point, and not one I'd expected Ty to make. Fuck, how had I missed that? I'd even heard a few comments about the bull scores suffering because of us last weekend. But Ty? He'd used that.
"Nice job," I said, grabbing my wallet and room key, then gesturing for Ty to lead the way.
"Yeah?" he asked, heading out of my room.
I closed the door behind us, then turned him toward the elevator. "If we can get them screaming at the Pbr, then my - " I grunted, stopping myself. "Uh, if they're on board, then the Pbr won't have any choice but to bring back the wolf pack."
"Your what?" he pressed, catching my slip up.
"I was going to say my plan," I lied, "but sounds to me like it's more yours this time."
He cast me a glance that proved he wasn't buying it, but he let me have it. He also pressed the button for the top floor of this place, not the bottom. I was confused right up until the doors opened into a rather elegant looking restaurant.
"Can I help you?" a young woman asked, turning to us with a smile.
I caught the way her eyes ran down Ty's body. Surprisingly, he acted like he didn't.
"We're meeting a friend. Peter. Might be under Ty? I'm not sure if he said anything."
"Oh, I know who you mean," she said. "Right this way."
As she led us to him, I couldn't help but notice the view. From up here, we could see all across downtown Nashville. Granted, it was all city and no country, but that had its own appeal. I was also getting used to it.
When the young lady stopped, gesturing to a table for us to claim, I recognized the man already sitting there. Confusion creased his brow as he looked from Ty to me, then back.
"Can I get you a drink?" the waitress asked.
"Coffee," I said, taking the closest open chair.
"Pepsi," Ty said. "Menus too, please? My treat this morning, guys."
"Good," Peter said, offering a weak little smile as he waited for the woman to leave. Then he leaned in. "I didn't realize this was going to be a group thing, Ty."
"Jake's the brains behind our strike," Ty explained. "He just got in, so I dragged him along. I'm taking the blame for this, he's making sure I don't screw up, and we need your damned help."
"Yeah..." I said, realizing there was one big problem with this. "And we appreciate what you're trying to do out there, but-"
Peter just lifted his hand, stopping me there. "But Casey died. He fucking died on my watch, Jake. I know it. All y'all know it too. Never mind that Sousa said we'd be covering for a few days, not the rest of the fucking season!"
"Really?" Ty asked. "So what do Stephen and Charlie think about this mess?"
"Shit," Peter grumbled. "They're convinced this is their big chance.
Those idiots keep saying you fuckers need to be tuned in, the old group spoiled your asses, and you're all too fucking dumb to worry about anyway.
A few kicks to the head might do some good.
" He grunted to show what he thought of that.
"They also think this is a whole lot of money they're making. "
"Bullfighting?" I asked incredulously.
Peter nodded. "Yeah. They haven't figured out how bad the living costs are eating into their profits.
I've been doing the standby thing long enough to be the veteran of our group, which technically puts me in charge.
The problem is, they don't agree, so neither of them will listen to me, and I'm too slow and busted up to be a one-man team. "
"Yeah," I breathed, deciding I didn't hate this guy as much today as I had last weekend. "So what's the plan, Ty?"
"Peter," Ty said, "we need your dad to make some waves. Do you think he'd be willing?"
"Oh, I think he's pissed that y'all aren't riding. He finally got a bull who's a real contender, and he's worried he's going to fall down too far to earn any money from it."
"But we can't ride," Ty pointed out. "You get that, right? This isn't about you. It's about us."
"We've asked that either your team gets more training, or we get the wolf pack back," I added. "Either one works for us."
"No, Jake, it doesn't," Peter said. "I know you're trying to tiptoe around my feelings, but I'm not blind.
Hell, I'm so busy chewing those fuckers out, telling them how to actually turn a bull that we can't even pick up ropes!
Half the time, I'm too busy making sure they don't get horned to even see when the rope comes off, and they refuse to work together!
They think it's a competition to see who's going to be the next Tanner Burns. "
"Tanner should be the next Tanner Burns," Ty said.
Peter just nodded. "And I'm not going to last until finals. My knee?" He huffed a dry laugh. "I'm already limping all week. If I get hit? Flipped? I'll be out."
"And those two cannot work without you directing them," I realized. "They'd be useless on their own."
"Sure, they can jump over the bulls," Peter explained.
"They can do barrel tricks, and get all the touches on them for bullfighting points.
What they can't do is keep them off a rider, and I'm not sure they care.
It's like they think this is their moment to shine.
Like it's either y'all or them in the spotlight.
I swear they're convinced they're going to become the next hot name in the Pbr or something, but no one gives a shit about the bullfighters! "
"And the Pbr only cares about the money," Ty said. "Yeah, I know. But I'm going to bet your dad won't be enough. Peter, we need all the stock contractors to start complaining. If they're threatening to pull the bulls, the Pbr will have to listen to us."
"Maybe," Peter said. "See, there's a lot more farms than contracts, Ty. A boycott from the bull owners is a big risk. If they lose their deal, they might never get it again, and that's an entire herd of prime breeding stock that just became useless."
"They'll be just as useless without riders," I countered.
"And we've already thought about how long we can last. If the men on this tour stop riding, it'll be Anaheim before the lowest rookie is out pointed by anyone from Touring Pro.
Finals is the next weekend, and only the top twenty-five ride there anyway. "
"Shit," Peter breathed. "Yeah, I'll convince Dad to play ball. I'll also tell him I agree with y'all. This shit is fucked." But he paused, looking between us. "I just have one question."
Ty sighed, sounding like he already knew what Peter was going to ask. I grabbed his arm, stopping him from doing anything stupid. Yeah, Peter saw, but it made him smile instead of glare.
"What happens if Tanner is gay? Have any of y'all thought about that yet?"
"We've thought about it," Ty said. "Seems most of these men care more about staying in one piece than poking their noses into anyone else's bedroom."
"What about the fallout that will cause with the fans?" Peter pressed. "Because Dad's gonna ask me about it. If the Pbr gets cancelled for being too woke, he'll be just as fucked as he is now."
"Fuck woke," I said before Ty could fuck this up. "Look, I don't want people judging who I go home with. Neither do you, I bet."
"Hell no," Peter agreed.
"So how about we worry about our sport and let the gay guys - or girls - worry about that part.
If the fans cancel them, then so be it. Our job is to ride the bulls and live through it.
Your job is to keep us safe. Your dad's job is to breed the best fucking bulls we've seen in decades.
The Pbr gets to figure out how to handle the media spin, and they're damned good at it.
They also have the money to make it all go away. "
"And that," Peter said, "is a good point. I'll convince Dad. He should know who else will have animals at Nashville. If they all push?"
"But will he?" Ty asked.
Peter nodded. "Yeah, because I know something you don't, Ty. The stock contractors don't want their bulls hurt any more than you riders want to get run over. This shit? It's a mess all the way around, and it's what feeds my family. So yeah, he'll push hard."