Chapter 23 Hestia #2
‘Oh, hey,’ Lottie said brightly. I almost chuckled at the shift in her expression, the way she looked up at him from under her eyelashes.
‘A friend of ours is back there. My friend here has flown all the way from London to see him – is there any way at all we could sneak back there and say hello? We’ll be out again within the hour, I swear it. ’
He considered her, a smile growing.
‘I wish I could, ma’am, but I’m afraid this is for competitors and their teams only – you’ll need a badge to get in.’
They went back and forth for another minute before Lottie took my hand, thanking him and walking us in the opposite direction.
‘Okay, plan B,’ she said, pulling out her phone and tapping on Jesse’s name. ‘Don’t know how likely he is to answer now, not with everything going on back there.’
I already knew it wouldn’t work, could feel my desperation growing as though my body sensed how close we were. Her phone rang and rang, and eventually, as it went through to the answerphone, I’d decided.
‘Hang up,’ I said, looking back towards the gate, watching as a competitor approached and exchanged a few words. The official simply slid back a latch on the gate to let them through. It wasn’t locked.
‘What?’ she asked, puzzled, but doing it anyway. ‘Why?’
‘Because if you can distract him, I can probably get through unnoticed.’
She eyed me, deliberating.
‘Okay,’ she replied, clearly turning over the options. ‘What kind of distraction?’
‘Pass out,’ I blurted, taking inspiration from the way I was feeling, my heart already hammering.
‘I’ll go over there.’ I pointed towards the bathrooms in the corner, parallel with the gate.
‘Then if you call out to him, maybe say you don’t feel great and then fall down, preferably when no one else is nearby and he can’t really refuse, I’ll run out behind and slip through. ’
The side of the chutes jutted out behind the gate. Once through, I’d be able to dive round the side and out of sight.
‘Fuck, okay,’ Lottie breathed, nodding. ‘Well . . . guess I’ll see you in the medical area, huh?’
I smiled, giving her arm a quick squeeze. Then I headed for the bathrooms and waited just inside the first door, out of the official’s line of sight.
Within a minute or two, after waiting for a few groups of spectators to pass by, Lottie edged a little closer to the official, looking down at her phone.
Then, just as he reached down to his belt for the walkie-talkie, eyes on an area to her right, she called out, waiting for his attention to turn before her knees buckled.
She landed side on in the dirt, her hat rolling off, hair splayed out.
He swore, opening the latch on the gate in seconds, leaving it open as he ran to her, pulling out the walkie-talkie in the same moment and speaking into it.
I bolted, holding onto my hat as I charged towards the gate, keeping my eyes on him as I ran right through, praying he would stay focused on Lottie until I was round the corner.
Another second and I was out of sight, the edge of the chutes blocking me from view as I came to a standstill, breathing heavily, one hand on my chest.
Suddenly faced with far worse, I steeled myself as I looked into the organized chaos backstage. There were so many people – competitors with their numbers displayed on their fronts and backs, a maelstrom of hats, chaps and horses.
Staying clear of anyone official-looking, and very aware of my bright hair beneath the black hat, I stayed on the periphery, following the backs of the chutes all the way round, eyes searching for him.
The noise was intense: the roar of the crowd from the other side of the stands, the occasional crash of hooves against steel making me jump.
‘You okay there, ma’am?’
I flinched as an official approached from the side, eyes scouting for whatever ID was needed around here.
‘Actually, no,’ I said, letting my anxiety flood my voice. ‘My friend just passed out round there, I’m trying to look for her boyfriend, he’s a bull rider.’
Surprised, he grabbed his walkie-talkie.
‘She with anyone?’ he said, turning the dial on the top.
‘Yeah, I think one person, I just know she’d want to see him, but I don’t know—’
‘It’s okay – bull riders are mostly in that far back corner just around the side there, y’see?
’ He pointed, curving his hand around to indicate the other side of the biggest group of competitors in front of us.
‘I’m gonna head over and see if she needs more help.
Don’t worry, we’ll look after her.’ He nodded and tipped his hat as he took off, talking into his radio.
Picking up my pace, I skirted what appeared to be the roping teams, keeping my head down. Rounding the corner, I slowed, looking down towards where the loudest animal noises were coming from. The volume of competitors thinned out there compared to everywhere else.
Then, just as I was about to turn back, unable to make anyone out, I heard a horribly familiar laugh that set my teeth on edge.
Chrissy and a small group of women, not twenty feet away, laughing together over drinks. And behind them, at the very far end of the chutes, three competitors leaning up against the chute.
The one in the middle looked up for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd out in the arena, his face unmistakable in the golden-hour glow.
‘Oh shit,’ I choked, putting my hand to my mouth, my feet frozen to the ground. The need to go over there, to touch him, talk to him, was utterly eclipsed by my fear. The thought of his rejection playing out in front of everyone – especially her – was too awful to contemplate.
But before I had the chance to act or move away, I felt multiple eyes on me and heard someone curse.
‘What the hell . . .’ Chrissy said, marching over, half spilling her drink into the dirt. I backed up, my eyes still on Jesse; I was unable to take them away from every angle of his face.
‘What do you think you’re doing here? Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!’
Jesse was too far back to hear her, the swell of the crowd cancelling all else out as the bronc riding was announced. Huge screens in the arena showed the first rider, his arms up to the crowd.
‘Back off,’ I said, watching as one of her friends came jogging over, her face just as thunderous as Chrissy’s. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’
Head tilted, hands on her hips, she took another step forward. She was pushing me towards the exit leading out to the stands, where small groups of spectators stood beyond the gates.
‘The hell it doesn’t,’ she hissed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. ‘You can’t just show up and expect to walk back into his life after what you did.’ Behind her, her friend was nodding.
‘Listen, I’ve got no problem with you . . .’ I said slowly, my anxiety giving way to building anger. ‘But if you don’t leave me the fuck alone, that’s going to change.’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Who the hell do you think you are, waltzing in here and assuming you can help yourself to him again? Huh? He’s moving on, okay? With me.’
I stopped, fixed on her face, looking for the lie – hoping to find it beneath the self-righteous anger. But I couldn’t.
‘You’re . . . together?’ I breathed, a horrific wrenching sensation in my chest as she nodded, a cat-like smile rising on her lips.
‘Oh, honey, you have no idea,’ she replied, taking a sip of her beer, glancing at her friend. ‘We were together for over a year before, in case he didn’t tell you,’ she added, her expression brightening as the pain inside made it through to my face. ‘We’ve picked up right where we left off.’
I just stared at her. My pathetic, breaking heart wouldn’t quite let me walk away.
‘Fine,’ I choked. ‘But I still need to talk to him, just to clear some things up between us. It won’t take more than a few minutes.’
I tried to move forward, but she reached out, pushing me back hard.
‘No, he doesn’t need this right now,’ she said, shaking her head, her glossy blonde hair falling down her back. ‘He doesn’t want to see you ever again. He told me.’
I glanced down for a moment. Part of me, the larger, broken part, was ready to back off. But the other part raged at being pushed – at being told what I could and couldn’t do – and decided to push back.
‘I don’t care,’ I snapped, looking up at where Jesse still sat with the two other cowboys, oblivious to the gathering shitstorm. ‘It’s up to him, not you.’
She cried out as I shoved past her, dodging the rest of her drink as it fell from her hand.
‘How dare you!’ she cried, her friend joining in. ‘Fucking bitch, get back here!’
I ignored her, now wholly focused on Jesse, on reaching him.
A vice grip on my arm yanked me back around as she used all of her weight, what little there was, to pull me back.
I vaguely heard someone calling her name, calling mine from the staircase area, but as I tried to shake her off, her grip slipped and she reached out towards the front of my shirt instead.
With another almighty yank, she ripped the front of it, tearing through the fabric and taking off the whole row of buttons in one go.
Feeling eyes on us, more heads turning from close by, I decided that if this was it – if Jesse was lost, and this bitch was the reason why – then I had nothing left to lose.
‘That’s your doing, not mine,’ she snarled.
Her friend backed away as I approached. Chrissy’s eyes widened as I stopped, gently took off my hat and tossed it into the dirt nearby.
I stared her down, watching her begin to squirm as I shrugged off what remained of my shirt, letting it fall to the ground at my feet.
‘You owe me a fucking shirt,’ I hissed, watching as her eyes travelled across my tats, over my bra: my favourite shade of purple, the colour of a bruised sky.
‘Chrissy! What the fuck!’ a female voice called from behind us – one I vaguely recognized.
‘I don’t owe you shit,’ she said as I drew close, my fingers itching to slap the self-satisfied expression off her face.
‘You know what?’ I purred, taking a last step right into her space, feeling no small satisfaction in the way her expression faltered. ‘It doesn’t matter. Clothes never stayed on very long when I fucked Jesse. He’ll like it better this way.’
With a scream she launched herself at me, nails gouging into my arm as she swung with her other arm. I dodged out of her way, grabbing her shirt by the collar in my fist, twisting it as I pushed her back, all but cutting off her air supply.
‘Get off her!’ screamed her friend, stumbling backwards in her eagerness to get away as I turned to her for a moment.
Chrissy struggled against me, panic rising in her eyes.
‘Touch me again,’ I whispered, suddenly pulling her close, ‘and it’ll be me tearing shit up next time. You fucked with the wrong bitch.’
She gasped as I released her, pushing her backwards with both hands instead and watching as she stumbled, landing ass-first in the dirt.
‘Okay, okay, ladies. What’s going on here?’
Two officials arrived, looking between us, their eyes lingering on my body, eyebrows raised as they took me in.
‘She’s fucking insane,’ Chrissy yelled, her friend helping her up as she winced, trying to put weight on her ankle and failing. ‘She attacked me, pushed me down.’
‘Bollocks,’ I spat, aware of someone approaching from the side.
‘Look, we can’t have brawling here,’ the official said, scooping up my hat and shirt and handing them to me. ‘And ma’am, you need to get dressed. This is a family show.’
They stared at me, eyes so diverted by my tattoos that it was suddenly very obvious. Living in London had afforded me a barrier from people like this – quick to judge anyone who looked different. But not here.
‘Oh, fuck you,’ I hissed, ‘you fucking judgemental prick. She attacked me, ripped my shirt in the process. But just because she looks like fucking Rodeo Barbie, I’m the one at fault?’
‘Ow, my ankle,’ Chrissy moaned, her face creased in pain. ‘I think she’s broken it.’
The official gestured towards the gate by the stairs.
‘I think you need to leave,’ he said, just as someone brushed my arm. Startled, I turned to see Clara, Jesse’s sister.
‘I saw the whole thing,’ she said, her voice hard as she stared Chrissy down, then looked at the official. ‘Hestia was defending herself. She started it.’
‘Don’t worry, Clara,’ I muttered, refusing to put my shirt back on as I began to walk away towards the gate, rolling my eyes as Chrissy pretended to cower away from me as I passed her. ‘There’s no point to me being here anyway.’
I kept walking despite the chatter behind me, despite Clara calling my name again. Still clutching my torn shirt as I let myself through the gate, I glanced back. The officials were still watching, one of them using his radio as they helped support Chrissy to a seat.
Lip curling, I balled up the shirt and threw it back over the gate with all the force I could gather. A dust cloud flared as it landed.
Only just resisting the urge to flip them off, and ignoring a series of catcalls from a group of men further up the stairs, I moved to leave, pulling my phone from my back pocket.
‘What’s going on?’
Jesse’s voice was faint at this distance, but enough to send shivers cascading down my arms as I looked up, our eyes meeting for the first time.
As we stared, his eyes wide, mouth dropping open, Chrissy got up from her makeshift seat and limped over as she called to him. He mouthed my name, ignoring her until she yanked on his arm.
My broken heart leaping into my mouth, I put my hands on the gate, knowing that if I went back over, the officials would likely stop me.
Jesse moved towards me, trying to pry Chrissy’s hands away, his eyes desperate as he looked back. He suddenly took in my lack of clothing. I saw Clara tell him something, looking between us as he then spoke to Chrissy.
Instincts kicking in, I backed up from the gate.
‘Don’t go,’ he shouted, his gaze fierce as it held mine – but before he could move, the officials had walked over, blocking his path. The two cowboys he’d been standing with before joined the group, both staring in surprise.
Jesse moved his head to look around the official, and with one more glance, I gave a small shake of my head.
And left.