Chapter 8
Verge
Piling out of the truck, I look around the rodeo grounds as the rest of the gang head to the back of the trailer to unload their horses.
“Verge?” Beau says as Shiloh opens the doors to the trailer.
I lift my chin, indicating to him that he has my attention, and he says, “Since you don’t have a horse, can you run to the rodeo office and see what stalls we have?” he asks.
“I’ll go, Beau. He doesn't even know all of our horses' names,” Shiloh says.
Cocking my head to the side, I say, “Just tell me. I have a good memory.” I then look at Cross, who is now staring at a tall brunette walking by, completely disinterested in this conversation.
I suppose Beau is right when he said him and Shiloh were not a thing, considering how he’s zeroed in on this chick's ass.
Shiloh walks over with her horse, knocking his hat off. “Quit staring at her ass and go get your horse.”
He shrugs. “It’s a nice ass.”
I laugh, asking him, “What’s your horse's name, Cross?”
“Why?” He asks, and I chuckle before Shiloh smacks him.
“He’s going to go get our stalls. Ugh, his horse's name is Queen of Havoc, mine is Let’s Riot, Cash’s is Tommy Gun, and Beau’s is Carmen by Design.
" She pauses, then continues, “I think you know all of our last names except Cross’. His last name is Riggins.” I nod and look over to Cross, who is pulling his horse out of the trailer while looking to see if he can still see the brunette who walked by.
I don’t know much about him, but he’s made me laugh on more than one occasion, and I think I like him.
Every friend group needs a comedian, and he’s for sure that person.
“Got it,” I reply, turning on my heel to head to the rodeo office.
As I walk, the name Riggins rings a bell, and then I remember Tuff Riggins.
He used to ride alongside Boone but tore his rotator cuff, then started raising bulls instead.
Makes sense now why Shiloh and Cross are so close, considering from what I read when I was a kid Boone and Tuff were best friends.
Probably another reason why Cross doesn’t bull ride.
I can imagine that day was traumatizing for all three of them.
I’m not exactly sure how old they are. I haven't asked, but I know Beau is 27, and I’d assume Cash is as well, making him 12 at the time of his dad’s death, and I’d wager Shiloh and Cross were 5 or 6, give or take, when the accident took place.
I grimace at the thought of having to watch someone I love be mauled the way Boone was.
To think he won, made the 8, just to be stuck then trampled after.
I’m not naive to the fact that it could or can happen to me.
I just love the ride so much that, in my mind, if that’s how the good Lord takes me out, so be it. At least I was doing something I loved.
Making my way up to the rodeo office, I stand in line waiting my turn when Pierce himself turns around, a smirk lining his lips before he says, “How’s the back, Verge?”
I lose my temper, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall before I say, “You keep your fucking drugs and hands away from Aria, you hear me?”
He chuckles. “Oh, you sweet on her, are you?”
I push him harder against the wall, angling my leg just close enough to his dick that he looks down with worry in his eyes. One move and I can clock him right in the nuts.
“She’s my cousin, you asshole. Stay away from her and quit giving drugs to teenagers.”
I then throw him to the side, sparing his nuts, and he stumbles to the ground, getting up quickly. He then shakes it off, looking around to make sure no one else saw our exchange before he says, “You’ll pay for that, McCoy.”
“I’m right here, Drake. Ready when you are,” I challenge, and he wipes his nose, shaking his head, walking away.
Grinding my teeth, I walk up to the stand, and the lady is looking at me wide-eyed before I say, “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
She nods her head. “Sounded like he deserved it. Good for you.”
Nodding, I tell her, “I have stalls reserved for Queen of Havoc, Let’s Riot, Tommy Gun, and Carmen by Design. I’m here to get the numbers, please.” Wow, I do have a pretty good memory.
She nods, flipping through her files before she hands me the stall numbers. “Thank you, ma’am. Can we pre-register today?”
“Sure you can,” she says with a smile beaming across her face.
“Verge McCoy. Bull riding, please,” I say, fishing out my wallet to pay my entry fee. Might as well do this while I’m already here, I think to myself.
After I pay my fee, I walk back to the trailer and dish out everyone's numbers before I say, “If anyone wants to pre-register, it’s open.”
They all nod, walking their horses to their stalls, and I decide to have a smoke while I wait for everyone.
As I’m lighting up, Shiloh looks back at me with her horse in her hand but quickly looks away when my eyes land on hers, and Cross nudges her with his shoulder as they walk into the barn together.
I may not get them or their friendship, but if I was a betting man, I’d put my money on him teasing her about the looks she gives me.
She can hide it all she wants, and maybe this makes me an arrogant son of a bitch, but I know she likes me, or at the very least is attracted to me.
I smirk while taking a pull on my cigarette, looking out to the setting sun. The way the blue clouds cut through the orange sun, pink lingering above the surface, and I’m reminded of my mother.
Look, Verge, God’s painting. It’s different every night, and I’ll bet he painted the sky tonight with you in mind. Look there at how orange that sun is, your favorite color, baby boy.”
I can hear her voice in my head like it was yesterday. I was 8 when she first said that to me, but every time there was a sunset that she laid eyes on, she always said God painted a pretty one tonight for you, Verge.
I’ve always loved the sunset, and even more so now that I feel like a piece of her is with me.
Fuck, I miss her, but I’m also glad she’s no longer in pain. Maybe she’s the one helping God tonight with this masterpiece because it’s beautiful, that’s for sure. I wipe under my nose and am pulled from my thoughts when I hear her voice. “What are you looking at?” Shiloh says.
I point with my cigarette between my fingers, “Just admiring God’s painting for the evening. That's what my mom always called the sunset, at least.”
She smiles at me, setting my heart ablaze. It’s the first time she’s smiled at me. Literally at me, and I was right about it taking me the fuck out.
I swallow, holding my shit together, acting like her looking at me that way did nothing to me before she says, “That’s sweet.”
“What’s sweet?” Cross says, walking up to her from behind, nudging her with his shoulder.
Okay, I said I liked him, and I do, but fuck, he for sure know’s how to ruin a moment.
“The sunset,” Shiloh says, pointing over her shoulder.
He looks over his shoulder at the sun that is about gone before he says, “Yeah, it’s sweet?” He replies in a confused tone.
“Shut up,” Shiloh teases, smacking him on his back.
Cash and Beau walk up, and I take one last pull on my dwindling cigarette before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it.
“Saw Pierce,” I say, and Beau’s head snaps to mine. He knows how my temper is, so it’s not shocking his eyes are filled with concern.
“What did you do, Verge? Please tell me you didn’t punch him,” he asks.
I shrug. “I didn’t hit him. I just told him to stay the fuck away from Aria, pretty much,” I admit, leaving out the details of me almost racking his nuts and shoving him up against the wall. The office lady didn’t seem to mind.
He grabs my shoulder. “Thanks for looking out, man.”
“Always,” I reply.
“Shit, what next?” Cross says, putting his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels.
“There is a bar up the road. I think it has line dancing and food?” Shiloh suggests, looking at me first, then to the rest of the guys.
“Let's go,” Cross says just as the brunette walks by again, eyeing him, and he backs up walking to her before he hollers over his shoulder, “Give me five minutes.”
Shiloh laughs, rolling her eyes, and so do Cash and Beau.
“Leave it to Cross to try and pick up a girl as soon as we pull in,” Cash laughs.
Smiling, I grab the back of my neck, looking Shiloh up and down as she looks out at the horizon one last time.
She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever seen before.
The way she carries herself, the fact that she seems to have no girlfriends, and the fact that she’s so naturally just stunning.
She may have mascara on, but other than that, her skin is damn near flawless, with her sunkissed complexion making those beautiful green eyes pop.
She’s wearing a long-sleeve hoodie, jeans, and her boots.
Her long blonde hair is in a ponytail today, draping over the side of her shoulder.
As the other guys look at Cross, picking fun, she brings her gaze back to mine and our eyes lock, but this time she doesn’t look away quickly.
She smiles again, biting her lip, and the world stops.
My heart feels like it’s beating in slow motion.
I know I said I was just here to win, that I’m not interested in a relationship, but I take it back.
Shiloh Hillard is something I want, something I need.
I just need to convince her that she needs me too.