by Jon Keys
Dustin’s mouth hung open.
“What? I can’t say ass?” Kris asked.
Dustin’s mouth stayed open as the surprise worked through his system. Finally he swallowed, closed his mouth and changed subjects.
“How is he?” Dustin motioned toward Todd.
Kris’s lips flattened as she considered her son. “The bull broke his left leg. They’ve put pins and plates in it. They said they treated the injury the same as they would on any other professional athlete, so he can go back to bull riding.”
Dustin nodded, filling in the gaps she wasn’t saying. “Bull riding is all he knows, though.”
“No. He thinks rodeo is all he knows. He’s kinda like my other stubborn bull-riding son.”
Dustin hesitated as he processed her words, and he was stunned. His mouth worked several times like a fish that had been out of water too long.
“You better close that thing before you draw flies.”
Any strands of seriousness that remained were destroyed when Shane responded with a snort.
Dustin turned to his sleeping friend, put his hand on his shoulder and reached up to wipe a tear from his eye.
Shane’s gut twisted into a knot from the first jump of Dustin’s ride the next day. The series of crow hops across the arena had Dustin bouncing on the bull’s back. Shane hovered a few yards away, ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. He was relieved when the buzzer sounded. Dustin dismounted in a heap. His clenched jaw was obvious as he left the arena. The few riders left passed quickly, but Shane could see Dustin watching through the fence and seething.
The short ride to their hotel room went by in tense silence and Dustin never looked in Shane’s direction as he stomped down the hallway to their room. Shane followed him through the door, becoming annoyed with the spiteful show Dustin was staging. He waited while Dustin took off the first spur and was working on the other, his anger only seeming to build.
“You want to talk to me about why you’re all pissy?”
Shane dodged the metal spurs that crashed into the wall behind him. He glanced at the small pile of steel and leather at the base of the hotel wall and then back at Dustin.
“Did that make you feel better?”
“Don’t fuckin’ patronal me.”
“Patronize, and I wasn’t.”
Dustin’s face turned scarlet as his hand squeezed into fists. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth. You asshole.”
Shane crossed his arms. “Look, you want to be pissed, fine. But there’s no reason for you to be pissed with me.”
Dustin made another circuit of the room and pounced. “You fucked it up! You were too close and spooked the bull!”
Shane’s anger built. “You know that’s not true. We stay close to the fence unless something happens. There’s nothing I can do if your bull doesn’t do anything but run and crow hop. Why didn’t you use your damn spurs? What the hell were you waiting on?”
Dustin’s voice verged on hysterical. “Fuck you, asshole! I was fuckin’ spurring the bastard through the whole thing. I worked my ass off. Not just standing in the damn arena flapping my arms like a big fuckin’ penguin.”
Shane stiffened further. “I was doing my job, something you apparently can’t do. I rescued pretty-boy bull riders like you all day long.”
Dustin spun toward Shane. “You think I don’t work? You think I’m lazy? Fuck you! You don’t do shit all day but prance around the arena.” Dustin sucked in air, far past being reasonable. “And I’m fuckin’ tired of you havin’ a pity party over that damn scar.”
Shane’s anger flared to incendiary. “You self-centered little shit. Don’t you dare tell me how I feel. You and your ‘poor pitiful me, I got chucked out of the house’.”
Shane’s head snapped back when Dustin punched him. He wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth as he glared at Dustin. “Did that make you feel like a man? Do you feel better now? Go ahead, hit me again if that’s what it takes for you to feel like you have balls.” Shane tilted his chin toward Dustin.
“Fuck you! You don’t get to be all Goody Two-shoes boy. You and your fucked-up poor-ugly-me shit. You can go to hell!”
Shane’s body knotted in anguish, tears searing the corners of his eyes. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut again. There! I knew it. The whole “it’s sexy” shit was fake. I knew this would happen. He’s just like everyone else. Blood dribbled down Shane’s face as he stared at Dustin in disbelief. How could he do this to me after all we’ve been through? Winning Finals ranks more important than we are, I guess. I’m not going to be second choice for anyone again. He wiped off the blood with his sleeve while his eyes locked with Dustin’s. Without a word, Shane stuffed what little he had into his bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Where you going, pussy? Can’t finish a fight? Running off to lick your wounds?”
“Find someone else to play mind games with. I’m done.”
Shane walked out the door, letting it close behind him.
Shane sat in a dejected heap in the room they’d given the bullfighters for a dressing room. He struggled to work out what had happened yesterday with Dustin. There were only a few more rounds in the Finals, and things were going well for Dustin. He’d placed again tonight. But they hadn’t talked since Shane had walked out.
“Hey, big brother. How’s life?”
Shane turned to see his twin walking toward him. He tried to think of a response, but his mind was so tied up in his problems with Dustin, he couldn’t think of anything else. He shrugged and went back to applying his makeup. “Five minutes isn’t really much older, little brother.”
“No, maybe not.”
Shane worked for a short time before Sam held a hand out for the makeup. “You’d think you’d be better at this by now. But I helped with your makeup when we were fourteen. I’m sure I can help now.”
Shane handed over the brush, and soon Sam was filling in the ovals around his eyes. After a few minutes, Shane chuckled in spite of his dark mood. Sam paused and lifted his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“You still stick your tongue out of the side of your mouth when you concentrate.”
Sam stuck his thumb into the middle of Shane’s forehead and pushed until his head was tilted backward. Shane felt the brush gliding over his skin. His brother’s face was a study in concentration. Shane opened his mouth to dispel the gathering silence.
“Shut up. If you talk, it’ll crack the paint. Give it a chance to dry. Besides, from what I hear, you and Dustin did plenty of talking the other night.”
Shane’s eyes widened, and Sam shrugged. “Really? You thought the two of you could have a screaming knock-down, drag-out fight and no one would hear you? And you know the rodeo crowd gossips worse than a bunch of old women. Some of those old women are friends of mine and made sure I knew.”
Shane lifted his head as Sam changed colors, then continued painting his face. “You also should know you’re going to be an uncle. A dad. Oh hell, you know what I mean.”
Shane held his mouth tight and muttered, “I’m the uncle. You’re the dad.”
Sam finished with the red and put in the last details. “Yeah, since I’ll be the one doing the late-night shitty-diaper patrol, I’m the dad.” He focused to add the last outline strokes before stopping. Straightening, he caught Shane’s gaze.
“Don’t tell anyone. No one else knows. Angie doesn’t want anyone to know, in case something happens.”
Shane beamed at Sam and grabbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. I’m excited for you two.”
Sam put away the paints and brushes while Shane checked his work in the mirror. “Nice job, Sam. You could stick around and do my makeup every night.”
A snort erupted from his brother. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Some of us have real jobs.”
Shane punched his arm playfully. “Sucks to be yo
u. I’d rather run at pissed-off bulls.”
“Yeah, haven’t you broken about everything? And…” Sam cast a significant look at the scar traveling down his brother’s face.
Shane scowled at his sibling. “Don’t tell me you’re going to start that shit too?”
Sam started to respond, then sat beside Shane. “You know you have to talk to him. Sounds to me like both of you said things you shouldn’t have. But that shit happens. No marriage is perfect.” Sam waved his hand when Shane started to correct him. “Yes, you are too married. Or you’d at least be engaged if you were a straight couple. But being with someone isn’t all blossoms and bullshit. Sometimes you gotta be the one to say sorry, even if you don’t think it’s your fault.”
“He said some things that are gonna be hard to forgive.”
“Yeah, when you’re that close to someone, they know all your buttons.”
“Part of me doesn’t want to forgive him. That was a damn low blow.”
“So you can’t forgive Dustin for being angry and stupid? Because if you can’t, you’re going to have a long, lonely life.”
Shane glared at him before letting out a heavy sigh. “Well, that’s fuckin’ stupid.”
“Welcome to the world of relationships. Now get dressed and go talk to Dustin before something happens.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Dammit! I hate it when you’re right.”
Dustin glared at Todd from his seat beside the hospital bed.
“What do you mean, ‘stop fucking around’. I’m here because you almost died, and I told your Mom I’d keep an eye on you while she got some sleep.”
“Bullshit. You’ve fucked up with Shane, and you’re panicked, so you’ve been sitting in here with me to keep from dealing with the mess you made. Just fuckin’ admit it. You’re in love with Shane, and you got all pissy ’cause you didn’t make the rankings one night, then you shit all over him. Man up! Grab your balls and go talk to your boyfriend.” Todd let out a snicker. “I’m sure he’d like to see you grabbing your balls anyway.”
Dustin searched for something to throw at his best friend but didn’t find anything but Todd’s half-filled urine bottle, which completely derailed Dustin’s line of thought. “You know, that’s just nasty. Nasty old piss in a bottle sitting there. Probably leave it when you eat too.”
“Damn, you’re easy to fuck with. You’ve always been easy. I bet you forgot your meds again today, didn’t ya?”
“Oh, fuck off, I remembered my meds, twat.” Dustin glanced around, trying to remember. “I’m pretty sure anyway.”
“Oh God.” Todd shook his head. “Get out of here. I’m going to take another happy pill and get some sleep. ’Cause I’m going to be at the last round, and you’re going to win this fucker. Now go find Shane and beg him to take you back.” Todd waved Dustin toward the door. “Offer him sex, ’cause you’re worthless as shit for anything else.”
“Oh fuck you, Martin! I can work circles around you any day. You’re just a pussy hound.”
“And I plan to find me some more to tap when I get outta here.”
It was impossible to stay moody around Todd. “Your mom says that barrel racer keeps coming to see you.”
Todd waved his hand at Dustin, not meeting his gaze as his cheeks turned scarlet. “Her? I barely know her. Can’t even remember her name.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Todd nodded as the nurse came in with his meds. He upended the cup and washed them down with a few drinks of water. He nodded at Dustin again. “Go. Please. Talk to Shane before tonight’s round. And then win the fucker.”
Dustin patted Todd’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. Quit bitchin’ at me like some old woman.”
Dustin spotted Shane stretching behind the arena getting ready for that night’s events and raced toward him. He skidded to a stop and grabbed Shane’s arm.
“Hey, I gotta—”
“Damn! Dustin. I’ve been—”
“No, man. Listen I was—”
“It’s okay, I know—”
“No, no. Listen I was a dumbsh—”
Shane held up his hands as the words tumbled from them. “Okay, hang on. One at a time.”
Dustin broke in. “Yeah. Okay. Well, look. I was a fuckin’ idiot. I don’t know why I said what I said. I don’t want nothin’ bad to happen between us.”
Shane sighed with relief. “Yeah, well, I could have been more understanding and not so temperamental. That’s just, you know, me being a super sensitive asshole.”
Dustin let out a breath and wrapped his arms around Shane. “Oh shit. I’ve been stewing about this since it happened. Well, maybe since you walked out and I realized I’d fucked up.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it too. Sam chewed my ass and told me to come talk to you.”
Dustin nodded. “Yeah, Todd chewed me out too. He said to come back and beg you to forgive me.” He cut his eyes to the floor. “He was right too.”
Shane kissed Dustin quickly. “I know we’re going to have fights, but we need to get better at it.”
Dustin hung on to Shane for another moment, then released him. With a grin plastered over his face, he whispered, “I hear makeup sex is pretty outstanding. I have a few days of jizz stored up.”
Shane couldn’t resist laughing at Dustin’s antics, relieved they’d repaired their relationship. “Win tonight, and we’ll do whatever you want.”
“That’s a promise I’ll hold you to.”
He glanced at Dustin. “Hey. Who did you draw for the final go-round?”
Dustin grimaced. “Diablo.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nothing like waiting to see if your lover gets killed.
Shane fought the thought down. Dustin’s safety was up to him. The winnings at this point were close, and tonight’s rides would decide who won the National Finals. Dustin was in second place going into the round, but with a good ride from Diablo, he could take top honors. The bull could also finish what he’d started months ago and ruin everything.
Dustin was focused on winning. Shane focused on surviving.
His lover dropped into the chute, which erupted in an unearthly racket. The cowboy on the gate helped Dustin tighten the bull rope. The two of them struggled for the perfect balance between a good grip and Dustin tangled in the rope at the end of the ride.
The minutes crawled past as the crew worked to make certain everything was as close to perfect as possible. Shane’s nerves ratcheted tighter. The gate snapped open, and Diablo hurtled into the ring.
Dustin glanced out into the arena, relieved when he saw Shane. Glad things are straightened out between us. His focus narrowed until it was just him and the bull. His mind created a small quiet space. As he watched for the perfect opening, the lunges of the massive animal under him seemed to slow. Dustin dropped with catlike sureness and cinched his legs around his adversary. Only dimly aware of the routine going on around him, he played out the various scenarios once the gate opened. The elements came together. He gave a quick nod, and the gate swung open in a slow arc. In agonizing detail, Dustin sensed the corded muscles under him contract and then uncoil. The bull left a trail of glistening froth as it moved to rid itself of the annoyance of Dustin on him.
Dustin swept forward with the first jump. His muscles knotted automatically as he rode the center of a crescent of primitive strength. The bull’s second jump threw Dustin backward as the twin hooves swept out and the muscles exploded with effort. Dustin countered each of his moves in a savage dance set to an eight-second finale. The magnified sense of being continued, allowing Dustin to anticipate each movement of the bull before it happened. The world moved at a crawl as the intricacies of the battle between him and Diablo played out.
Diablo tensed under Dustin. He was going to sunfish. The roll began, and Dustin felt that instant of suspension before the ton o
f beef under him snapped outward in a violent explosion of power. The maneuver had unseated Dustin the last time he’d been on this bull. This time, Dustin’s focus was needle sharp, and he flowed in perfect unison with the bull.
Dustin caught a glimpse of Shane following his every move. The sight of Shane’s worried face and the thought of his love for Shane broke Dustin’s focus. Suddenly, the howl of the crowd, the sharp bite of the dust-filled air, the speed and ferocity of the animal he rode, everything crashed into his conscious thought.
The ride continued as Dustin flowed with each movement of the bull in perfect timing and balance. The flying belly roll Diablo loved to use was a bust. Dustin’s head snapped around. His helmet and face-guard whistled through the still air. Then the instant he’d been dreading happened. He moved a millisecond out of time with the bull. The easy part is over. Now comes the real work.
Diablo’s head almost grazed the arena floor before shooting upward. Dustin’s body took a beating, and he slipped. His heels locked in the bull’s flanks as he fought to stay on. But he had lost his firm seating, and too many seconds were left.
The success of the ride would be a trial. Dustin had gotten a few magic seconds where the path from one jump to the next was clear. Now he had only a few seconds to go and a bull determined to fuck him up and make him first loser.
Dustin’s arm started to cramp, his biceps fighting each buck as the effect of the previous nine rides began to show. His legs were bands of iron around the bull, battling each jump and twist. The sinew of his body strained under the beating Diablo delivered with the professional detachment of a Mafia hit man.
Muscles tightening signaled the jump into another spin. This time, his boot heel slipped, and his weight shifted. Dustin clamped his thighs as tight as possible, trying to eke out the final milliseconds. He began to lose his seating. He struggled to power back onto this monster, and felt himself heading for the arena dirt.
For a split second, overwhelming disappointment hit. Losing. Again. Was he destined to always lose? He glanced about in desperation. Shane. Unmistakable admiration showing on his lover’s face filled Dustin. I may not win, but I won’t quit.