When Bronco leans back, he shouts something at someone, but the announcer starts to call out the wrangler, and it’s too late. I think Bronco was going to stop him from going in the arena, but I have no idea what the two of them were talking about.
The man doesn’t last even a second before he’s flung so hard and far you’d think he’s never been on the back of an animal in his life. The bull charges after him when he hits the ground, and I gasp.
The barrelmen try to lure the bull away, but he seems hell bent on going for his target. The whole stadium goes quiet as the rider tries to get up. I think his name is Jericho, if I remember right. Even from this distance I can tell he's out of it and probably hasn’t got a clue where he is.
An audible cry from the crowd sounds when the bull charges Jericho at full speed. Part of me wants to close my eyes and not see what’s going to happen next, but I know I can’t. This is my job, and it’s part of it.
Out of nowhere a rope comes swinging through the air, landing perfectly on the bull’s head. My head snaps back to see Bronco pulling hard on the other end of the rope. His boots dig in deep as he yanks the bull back like he’s nothing more than a dog. The bull grunts and shakes his head, but he has no choice but to back off. As big as he is, he could have seriously injured Jericho or even killed him.
The crowd starts to go wild, and I stand there in shock as I watch Bronco get this bull under control. Finally he gets it back into the stall, and it doesn’t dawn on me until I’m running down the back tunnel that I didn’t recognize the bull.
When I make it down there, they already have Jericho on a stretcher and he’s being wheeled out by the EMTs. An ambulance is always stationed outside for protocol, and thank goodness, since we needed it tonight.
“Kurt?” I call to snag his attention. He’s the EMT that’s always on standby for anything medical, and he’s the first to act and alert paramedics.
“Most likely a concussion and his right shoulder is dislocated for sure.” I let out a breath of relief because it could have been so much worse.
I go in search of Bronco next, and he’s not hard to find with everyone surrounding him. I see people have jumped over the stands and are filling the arena. All of them are in search of Bronco and begging for his attention.
Will it always be this way? Even in a perfect world if Bronco did want me in the forever kind of way, would it always be a fight to have his attention?
I wish I had it in me to be the one that pushed in front and wrestled the crowd for my place, but I want someone to fight for me. Is that selfish? Probably, but it’s my turn. I’ve spent my life letting everyone else walk all over me, and I’m not doing it anymore. I’m not begging for scraps and waiting around to see if Bronco looks my way.
Let’s see if he’s willing to make me the center of attention. If he ever makes it out of the arena.
Chapter Fourteen
Bronco
“Maguire, I want you to find out who the fuck brought in that bull that almost killed Jericho.”
“Bronco!” someone says, but I ignore the people begging for my attention and try to finish this business.
“I’m on it, I don’t know how the hell someone could have got one in the stocks. Or why they’d want to.” He turns my way, and we share a look.
“I’ll have the boys check the cameras, but this arena is on lockdown as of right now.”
“I’ll have Shaw and Tate bring the rest of the steer around and push this crowd back. Go on out that way.” He nods toward the door that leads to the tunnel.
“I appreciate it.” I quickly clasp him on the shoulder before I duck out of the mob and to the safety of the dark.
This is the whole reason I stopped going to shows. When I was the one riding the bull, the women wouldn’t leave me alone, and when I was in the stands, the men were just as bad. I just want to be able to enjoy the sport like the rest of them, but it’s never that easy.
The crowds, the people, the attention, none of that was what I ever wanted. Even when I smiled and played nice. I did all I could to put a boundary between me and the job, but even when I took all the best precautions somehow people would break into my home or travel trailer to get my attention. Or they’d show up in the changing room, thinking I’d be easy. Enough is enough, and if that means I have to stay in an office while the rodeo is going on, then so be it.