Chapter 80
When I got to the arena, Cletus had a surprise waiting. While the man wasn't a bullfighter, he was technically a part of our team. The entertainment part, but in the years I'd been working for the Pbr, he'd always been a good guy, so when he passed over a trio of headsets, I was confused.
"What are we supposed to do with these?" I asked.
Isaac chuckled, clearly already knowing about this. "We get a direct line to the crowd, Tanner."
"Uh-huh. And half of what we say out there will get us in shit."
"Press to talk," Cletus assured me. "The sound guy also has the ability to cut it off. However, if you have thoughts about a ride? Or maybe a score? You now have the ability to tell the people who really matter."
"The fans," Jorge said with a little smirk. "Yeah, when he brought this up, I told him to do it. We'll have to tape on the ear pieces, but they shouldn't get in our way. Also means we can explain to them what we do, how bullfighting works, and why the riders need us."
"And," Isaac said, "you're going to be the front man for us. Make them love you, Tanner. Get them on your side, and the fans will make sure the Pbr can't touch you."
"Ok," I agreed. "I'm in."
"Also..." Isaac said, looking over at Cletus. "This is not officially out there yet, but Wes Gilbert?"
"I know Wes," I assured him.
"His husband is here tonight." Isaac grinned. "Little pretty guy too."
"Wait..." I said.
"Yes, a man. A nurse," Jorge said. "Although I'm not sure if Isaac remembers that part. But Wyatt's his name, and he figured out a way for the riders to get around Merrill's rule about being fined for not riding."
Ok, that sounded good, but also defeated what they were doing. "How?"
"Climb on, come out of the chute, and jump off," Isaac said. "Bail, basically. Ty wanted to make sure we could handle that many men bailing in a row."
"We got this," I assured them.
"Pretty much what we said," Jorge agreed. "Just wanted to keep you in the loop. Now, let's do this!"
The guys showed me how to secure the earpiece, and where to put the button to transmit. It was a little box that fit on my waistband. Nice, simple, and wouldn't cause me any problems. But these things? They meant the opening ceremony went a little different than normal.
For the first time, we got to introduce ourselves. The reactions of the fans? They shot to their feet, cheering. I spotted Isabella and Maria easily. Isaac made sure I knew which one was Wes's husband. A few other people were pointed out, like Rhaven and Braden, and then we paused for the prayer.
The real fun came as we waited for the bulls to be loaded and the first rider to strap on. The three of us clustered up, making our plan, but Cletus was liking this new microphone thing a little too much.
"So, our Deviant Rescue Squad down there is plotting something. Y'all gonna share?"
"You're up," Jorge told me.
So I stepped over and looked at the crowd.
"Well, our job is to make sure those riders get a good ride, and make it out of the arena safely.
To do this, we use a triangle of protection.
That means one of us is always in position to handle the bull's head if anything goes wrong, and someone else can direct the haunches. "
"Ass," Isaac muttered beside me, flashing me a grin. Thankfully, his mic was off!
"We also need to know the rider's style, and who's up first today?" I turned to check the scoreboard.
"That would be our first rider from Brazil," Cletus told me. "Luiz Oliviera!"
"So," I said, gesturing for where Jorge and Isaac needed to be, "we'll start off giving him space, but the moment we see something going wrong, we start closing in, making sure we are there for the save if he needs us."
"You better!" the man in the chute called out.
He had a Brazilian accent, but his English was damned good. Considering I'd never heard him talk before, I was a little surprised. Probably shouldn't have been, but half those guys only spoke Portuguese, even when they did understand English.
"See, he already knows us well," I joked. And the fans laughed.
But Luiz came out hard - and tilted. It wasn't really the best exposure for this guy, but I could see he wasn't even trying. Two bucks in, and he was down, his rope so loose it had only barely been secured.
The next guy came out nice and solid, but it didn't take long before he was flopping all over.
When he got punted off the hip at 3.8 seconds, it gave him the distance to be well away from the bull.
We got the animal turned for the gate easily, then I scooped up the rider's rope and headed back to see Sonny dusting himself off.
"Nice catapult," I said as I passed it over.
But he looked up with a grin. "We decided to see how hard this is without tying in."
"What?!" That made no sense.
"The bull rope," Sonny said. "Tight, right? Well, what's the difference between a regular wrap and a suicide wrap?"
"How many times you go around your hand to keep it tight."
He nodded, that grin getting bigger. "What do you call it if we don't go around our hands at all? Just lay the tail in and hold tight?"
"Stupid," I replied.
And he cackled. "Today's a good day for being stupid, huh, Tanner?"
"Guess so," I told him, watching as he jogged back to the gate to get out.
But if these guys weren't wrapping their ropes? Yeah, that all but guaranteed they'd get bucked off early.
The next few riders hit the dirt fast. Twice, I had to shoot the gap to keep the bull from stepping on them. Once, the beast tried anyway, but Jorge shoved at the hip. Isaac managed the head, and I shoved the rider the way he needed to go.
And after each one, we took turns explaining to the crowd what was going on. They were loving it, and the announcer even started joining in, asking us why the rides weren't making eight.
"Cowboy logic," I told the crowd. "Seems our boys down here have a little dare going on. They wanna see who's good enough to ride without a wrap. That means their arms are all but useless - but it's going to make one hell of a show for us!"
"And a whole lot of running around to keep them in one piece," Isaac added, which made the fans laugh.
Again, then again, we ducked, dodged, and turned the cattle. Over and over, the riders came off fast, and long before the buzzer. The no scores were stacking up, but this time, the fans were loving it.
And then Jaxon climbed onto his bull. He made a production of standing up and saluting the crowd first. They loved it, screaming back in enthusiasm, which made the pause for him to strap in feel a lot shorter.
But when the gate opened? The bull came out hard.
Jaxon was forced so far back he ended up lying on the animal - and then it kicked up hard.
He popped forward, rocking his legs from the bull's shoulders to its hips like a teeter totter up there, but somehow that crazy bastard didn't use his free hand.
There was no spurring. That would mean letting go with the one part of him he could use to hang on.
Instead, Jaxon did his best to get straight again, get his damned head down, and regain control, but something was wrong.
Worse, the clock was quickly spinning toward eight, and while I knew he'd had a problem with J.D.
, he also hadn't ridden yesterday, so was he going to throw this or not?
"I'm hung!" he yelled, still somehow managing to stay in place. "Spur! Hung!"
"Fuck, fuck," Isaac hissed, looking over to me.
"He's still got it," Jorge snapped. "We can't interfere if he's riding!"
"Bail!" I told Jaxon.
"I'm fucking hung!" he yelled back, proving he could hear us.
"And I got you!" I swore.
That was all he needed. Jaxon slung his body sideways, revealing his spur caught in the tail of his rope.
The moment his body was off the side, the tail yanked tight, the part around the bull's middle went slack, and it all left him strapped there, halfway between the ground and the sky - grabbing at the bull with both hands, yet gripping nothing long enough to help.
And I moved. The moment the animal swung around, I jumped onto it, propelling myself high enough to land halfway across its back. My right hand fumbled in my pocket. My left gripped Jaxon's leg, holding both of us where we wanted to be.
"Cut it!" Jorge ordered.
The moment I got my rope knife out, I hacked at Jaxon's bull rope.
The first cut only went halfway through.
He sagged, but I wasn't about to give up.
Another strong hack got him free. Without the rope supporting us, we both slid off the side together, crashing down into the dirt with my hand gripping his knee and my face?
Well, he probably wouldn't like my face being that close to his dick.
"Chutes!" I told him, pushing up quickly in the hopes he hadn't realized where I'd just been.
I moved. He moved. The bull moved, and my team was making sure it didn't manage to get back around. Instead, it took off, running along the rail in a move that was much too familiar. If Jaxon had still been on it, this would've been a perfect replay of what had happened to Casey.
The outrider saw it was getting away from us, so he moved his horse in, swinging the rope over his head.
That was enough. Spinning quickly, the bull decided his time was done and he was more than ready to go home.
With one last swish of his tail, that bad boy charged out of the arena, making the gate attendants scramble to close it behind him.
"Fuck!" I breathed, bending over to catch my breath.
Isaac nodded, showing he approved, but he was breathing too hard to get a word out. It was Jorge who wiped at his face, then gestured for us to look.
Across the dirt, Jaxon was making his way back over from the chute, holding the cut rope in his hands. His chaps flared out with each step, and the man's head was down, but he'd managed to trade his helmet for his hat while we handled the bull.
But he shouldn't be out here. He should be up there, letting the next rider get his turn. I stood, ready for the worst, just as Jaxon reached me, thrusting the rope at me.
"This was you, right?"
"Yeah," I said.
He simply lunged, wrapping his arms around my shoulders to hug me hard enough to make my back crack. Twice, he thumped my shoulder blade, and then he pulled back.
"I... Tanner, I was hung." Then he pointed around the arena. "That was how Casey died. I... I could be dead right now, but you saved me."
"Also ended up falling into your crotch," I pointed out.
"Don't fucking care," he said. "Look..." And he pulled in a deep breath, clearly thinking hard. "Hey, can you turn on that mic for a second?"
"Bad idea," I told him.
"I can," Isaac said.
So Jaxon leaned over near him. "Hey! Y'all see that save?"
The crowd roared with approval.
Jaxon pointed at me. "This guy? This is Tanner Burns. He is the best bullfighter in the world. And just so I make sure none of y'all missed it, that save? Yeah, it's the only reason I'm alive right now. That is how riders die. Y'all may know we had a real big strike, right?"
A few people stood, plenty clapped, and more cheered than I expected.
Jaxon pointed at them, nodding. "Well, that's why. These guys? They keep us in one piece, and y'all just got to see it happen. Tanner here? He didn't care none that I was a - "
"Language!" Cletus snapped, interrupting.
"Jerk," Jaxon said. "I was a real big jerk to him this weekend, but he didn't hesitate at all. So you go watch that replay. I may look like a real big idiot, but these three men? So far as I care, there ain't a single thing they can do wrong."
Then he stepped back, making it clear he was done talking, and offered me his hand.
"I owe you an apology too, Tanner. I might not understand, and I'm sure I'll say something stupid, but don't let me get away with it, ok?
I respect the hell out of you and J.D. The rest?
Well, saving my life kinda makes me realize it don't matter at all. "
"Thank you," I breathed. "And Jaxon? That was a damned good ride."
"J.D. always says to ride like you fuck." Then he grinned. "I'm just wondering who does the fucking."
But he turned, walking away before I could respond, making it clear he didn't expect me to answer that. More so, it proved he had pulled his head out of his ass. That guy? There was hope for him yet.