Chapter 62
What.
The.
Fuck?!
The moment J.D.'s score posted, my mouth flopped open in shock.
I couldn't even scream about it because I was honestly too shocked.
Seventy-one point twenty-five was bad, but on that bull?
Yeah, I had to look at the breakdown to figure out where things had gone wrong, because I'd honestly expected something in the nineties.
The moment my eyes saw the rider score, all that rage slammed into me. They'd fucked him worse than they'd ever fucked me. That? It was so blatant I couldn't believe they'd tried - let alone done - it. And behind me, the other riders were whispering in the same shock I was struggling with.
"That's got to be an error," someone said.
"No fucking way!" That sounded like Jackson.
"It's because he kissed Tanner."
That last made me turn to see Wes standing there, gaping at the scoreboard like everyone else, but his words were the ones that made sense. That was the only reason I could think of for the shit score. Considering they'd been doing the same to me?
"Oh, fuck no," I growled - then snagged J.D.'s hat and turned for the stairs.
"Cody!" Jackson called. "Where are you going?"
"To get J.D.," Wes told him, clearly following along.
"To get the fucking reporters!" I shot back. "Because this shit? Not on my watch!"
"Fuck, they pissed her off," Jackson muttered before hurrying after me.
And he wasn't the only one. Wes followed him, and a few others were moving our way. It was almost like a plug had been pulled and now all the cowboys who'd been around me during the ride - about five or six of us - were flowing toward the gate where J.D. would come out.
So I stretched my legs a bit. I needed to get there first, to find out what the fuck had happened, and make sure J.D. had seen that. He'd been talking to Tanner, so he must've, but I wanted to make sure he'd checked the breakdown.
Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs and the press of bodies clamoring around the arena gate, the metal opened.
I saw J.D. slip through it, and angled my feet to meet him.
Sadly, I wasn't fast enough. When I was still four bodies away, the first reporter shoved his microphone into J.D.
's face, but his question wasn't the usual crap we got about our ride.
"Is it true you kissed Tanner Burns during the opening ceremony?" the reporter demanded.
"The fuck?" J.D. replied.
But another reporter pushed in from the other side. "J.D. Adkins, are you gay?"
"J.D.!" I called, waving his hat over my head.
He shifted my way. I shifted his. I had just enough room to pass his hat over before yet another reporter was there, trying to get his microphone into J.D.'s face.
"J.D., how long have you and Tanner Burns been dating?"
"Really?" I asked, taking over while J.D. got his helmet-hair covered with his hat. "All of you really missed the point. All you want to know is if he kissed Tanner?"
"There has never been a gay bull rider in the Pbr," a woman asked, making her the fourth reporter here in this cluster of stupidity.
"Ain't never been one who could admit it," J.D. said. "And no, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. Now, y'all let me know if I need to explain that part to you. Means I am not gay. I like women just fine. Happen to like a few men too. And yeah, I kissed Tanner," he said.
"Which is why he got that score!" I roared, demanding the reporters pay attention to that.
"You're all sports reporters. I see ESPN here, and CBS Sports there.
Yours is Fox, and hers is CW. Now, I'm pretty sure those are supposed to be sports channels, right?
Not entertainment TV? Or did TMZ offer all of y'all a side gig or something? "
Behind me, someone chuckled, proving at least a few of those riders were listening in.
"History-making is important in sports," the ESPN guy pointed out. "So, J.D., is it true? You and Tanner are a thing?"
"Yeah, Tanner and I are a thing. Cody too," he said.
"And that's where y'all get all shocked, right?
I mean, ya don't think a damned thing of Ty having one-nighters with every woman in the continental United States, so what's the big deal?
Thought it was supposed to be one man and one woman, not one of each - or in Ty's case, one man and all the women. "
"He's not wrong," Ty said, proving he was down here too. "Never got grilled about it either."
"Now explain to me," I demanded, "how the person he dates affects his score?"
"Shit," J.D. drawled. "I ain't never scored that low. Not even as a kid at the rodeo! They gave me a twenty-three!"
"So Speed Bump wouldn't be penalized," I said, making sure the reporters were getting this. "The bull got a fair score, the rider didn't - and J.D. should've won tonight's event."
"Or are you biased because he just said you're dating him?" the woman from CW asked.
Ty huffed at that, then moved to J.D.'s other side so he could reply. "She's not wrong. It's also not just J.D. getting screwed on the scores. They've been giving Cody crap for weeks now. She's been trying to ride better - and all of us have seen it-"
"It's true," Jackson said, piping up. "And her best rides get the lowest scores! We all think they're trying to chase her off for being a woman. Seems the 'toughest sport on dirt' is supposed to be something only men can handle, but Cody's a good rider."
"And J.D.'s bi," Wes said. "He stops hiding it and his scores immediately drop?"
"Never mind the breakdown," I told the reporters, taking over again.
"You go look at the scores of every other rider in the seventies.
The bull score and the rider scores are always balanced unless it's a buck-off.
Then, the rider gets nothing but the bull gets something.
But in the seventies, it's a shared score!
The bull has to buck hard, and the rider has to ride harder.
If the bull gives us nothing to work with, we can't make the points up.
But! If the bull gets a score so high it's pushing at the record for best bull score ever?
How the hell did J.D. not only stay on, spur that hard, not foul himself, and come out with a paltry twenty-three and change? "
"And if the judging isn't fair," Wes said, his voice calm but confident, "then doesn't that mean there's a bigger story all of you are missing? The Pbr is picking the winners. Bull riding has become a popularity contest - or maybe a beauty pageant. Who's the manliest of the men? That's who'll win."
"Shit..." Ty breathed, but he was looking back and over.
But as he stepped back, J.D. decided he was done letting people talk for him.
"Now, I know I got hurt and took a long break off.
I get that, and sure, I coulda ridden better.
All of those are fair complaints against that ride.
But the score? Naw. That's the sort of score they give someone with no control.
I made that bull fly! I had him that whole ride, and I didn't even get half the available points? Naw, this is bullshit."
"And what kind of sport can be trusted or respected if it's all about who the judges like most?
Does this mean someone's getting paid off to rank higher?
If not, how long until that happens?" I demanded, stabbing at the air with my points.
"How corrupt has the Pbr become when the top bull rider in the world drops down to. .."
"Twenty-ninth," J.D. supplied.
Which made me forget all about my rant and turn to face him. "What?!"
He nodded slowly. "Yep. Only ones lower than me got bucked off."
"Did you announce your sexuality before the scoring?" ESPN asked.
J.D. gave the man an incredulous look. "I kissed my boyfriend at the end of the opening ceremony.
All them judges were down there in the bullpen with a good view of it.
The directors and AV guys are up at the top of the arena with the announcer.
They all had a real good view of me shoving my tongue down that pretty boy's throat. "
"Graphic," Jackson mumbled.
"Yeah, and makes it damned clear I ain't ashamed of it," J.D.
said, glaring at the cameras. "I've also gotten enough shit today because of it, but here's the thing.
I'm not here for y'all to like me. I didn't come to the Pbr to make friends and get popular.
I'm here to ride the bulls and make some money.
For nine years now, I've made it real clear I can do just that regardless of who's in my bed - or who I'm tryin' to get there. "
"First," I said, looking right at CBS's reporter, "they tried to take away our bullfighters.
Tanner was suspended because of a rumor about his personal life.
Not that he'd done anything against the Pbr's rules for behavior in or out of the arena.
Nope, they used that vague 'conduct unbecoming' clause of our contracts to get rid of him - and a man died because of it. "
"Casey Davis," the woman from CW said, proving she knew that. "Was Tanner's assistance the reason he came back tonight?"
"Nope," I said. "They were going to pretend like that had never happened.
Didn't you hear the crap in the opening ceremony?
They made it sound like those three took a break because of the new sponsor.
Instead, they came back because Deviant Games only wanted to sponsor those three. They are the best, after all."
"True that!" Jackson agreed enthusiastically.
"Now J.D. gets a nonsensical score right after he comes out?
Tell me that's a coincidence! Explain to me how that ride he just had was so bad to score worse than my mediocre one?
The only thing those have in common is their personal lives, and what any of us do in our free time should not affect our scores!
This isn't a popularity contest - or is it? "
"And we're done risking everything," Jackson said, pushing around me, "for a sport that isn't fair.
We're here to ride bulls and win awards based on being better than the others.
Hell, better than last time works too! This is a competition of power and agility over the sheer strength of the bull, but if the judges are more worried about our sex lives than our riding ability, what's the point of it all? "
"No one should care if J.D. is gay, bi, or straight," Wes said. "That part isn't important. It's also no one's business but his."
"So you go ask them," I said. "Ask the judges what J.D. did wrong on his ride. Ask them where he lost points, and make them show you the video. Ask them the same for any other rider, and see how their answers compare."
"And if they don't," J.D. said, "then you decide if you're gonna play their game or ours, because bull riders aren't here to be nice. We're here to win."
Then he pressed a hand into the middle of my back and turned me for the chutes. We were done. Tonight's ordeal was over, so all we had to do was collect our stuff, strip down, and wait for Tanner. But as we climbed up the stairs, Ty called out my name, stopping me.
"Cody!" He stood in the middle of the alley. "You still going to the bar?"
"Yeah," I said. "I think I need a drink or five."
"Then I'm buying," Ty promised. "And J.D.? It was a good ride."
"Fuck yeah, it was," he agreed.
But over at the side, I saw Jake, leaning against the gate to the arena. His arms were crossed over his chest. His jaw was clenched so hard there was no hint of any dimples. And when he looked up at me, those stable concrete grey eyes of his were darker.
They looked like a storm was brewing.