8 Second Decision

by H. J. Bellus

  I slam the truck to a stop at a red light and turn to Maverik. “This ranch is a fucking disaster. Dad is on the highway to hell. Marvel is going to stroke out before he hits twenty-eight, and Challis Jones has done pissed me the fuck off.”

  Maverik chuckles and pets the top of Jake’s head. “So, I take it that latter is the real issue with you. Get turned down by a chick and flip.”

  “She’s a downright cold-hearted bitch.”

  “Are you saying that Merek Slatter has a girl crush?” Maverik holds his gut as he howls in laughter.

  “You know what? Fuck off.” I light up another cigarette and crank up the radio, drowning out all the outside noise and cruise down the blacktop. Pulling down my hat, I take an extra long drag from the cigarette and begin to feel the adrenaline run through my veins.

  There’s nothing like getting on the back of a bucker, spurring like hell, and hanging on for eight seconds. I’d give up everything just to rodeo the rest of my life. It’s a scary thought to digest, but deep down, I know it’s the truth. Rodeo is what makes the blood pump through my veins and the only reason I get out of bed in the morning.

  It’s more than being a champion. It’s more of a way of life. The dusty arena, electric atmosphere, the unknown, the crowd going wild, and the thrill of winning all combined together make rodeo a strong addiction in my life.

  I learned how to ride from Maverik. He was the best around for years until his little brother—me—climbed up the ranks. Then his body broke down after two major accidents where his pelvis was crushed and his shoulder was totally destroyed. He’s not even supposed to ride again, but since he’s the foreman of Silver Star, he has no choice but to cowboy. Rodeo has been a closed subject.

  “We’re here, Sleeping Beauty.” I punch him in the gut.

  “Fucker,” he grunts as he steps up.

  “Damn, you’re going to need Depends before you know it, old man.”

  “I can still kick your ass.” He reaches over and flips off my hat before I can defend myself.

  “Dick.”

  I strategically park my truck smack dab behind the middle of the bucking chutes. It’s one of my weird tendencies I always follow before a rodeo. Then from there it’s all about getting hyped up. Mav has the tailgate pulled down and the red cooler popped open, fishing for one of his beers. He settles in on the tailgate next to his wingman Jake and begins scoping for a piece of ass. He usually doesn’t have to try too hard. They’ll all be flocking him after I ride.

  Since bareback is the first event, I don’t waste any time before going about my rituals. Soon the buzz of the rodeo crowd fills the air along with the other competitors prepping and others pulling in late.

  A crowd of old time cowboys circle Maverik shooting the shit as I change into my riding jeans and button up my shirt. Cowboys change anywhere…well, I should say the Slatters change anywhere, not giving a shit who is around to see.

  “Damn, look at the rig. Who the hell is that?” I hear Mav’s voice over everyone else’s.

  The sound of a powerful engine purring fills the air and even grabs my attention. Looking up, I see a massive lime green Dodge Cummings packing one hell of a fancy horse trailer behind it. From the looks of it, it has living quarters and chrome from the top to the bottom. The impressive duo pulls in straight across from us and holds all of our attention.

  “Not from around here. That’s for sure,” one of the guys standing next to Maverik says and then shades his eyes.

  The rig pulled right in front of the setting sun, making it impossible to study or to see who jumps out of it. The roar of a tractor fires up, and I know they’re working the soil of the arena and I go back to focusing on my job. I drew the rankest horse that’s known to buck like a son of a bitch, and I know lots of hometown people drove forty minutes here just to see me, which means the hopes of a high score.

  “Mav, I’m going back.” I nod to him and hoist my big black bag over my shoulder.

  He waves back to me and continues on with his conversation. I don’t have to remind him or tell him to follow. It’s family tradition that he has my back behind the chutes whenever he’s around. My friends and teammates know to back off when Maverik is around.

  I settle everything out on the ground and begin strapping on my chaps and zipping up my vest. The powerful sound of hoofs beating the ground start out slow and then speed up. Soon the metal of the bucking chutes rings out in the night air as the horses are loaded in. They’re feisty and thrash up against the chutes, showcasing their displeasure.

  The announcer’s deep voice streams from the stand above my head and the stale smell of dirt attacks all of my senses.

  “Light it up, Merek.” I look up to see Maverik standing before me with tape in his hand. I hold out my riding hand and let him tape it up and I dance back and forth on my tiptoes. I feel my chaps move with my dancing as I begin to roll my neck around on my shoulders, loosening up as much as possible. An AC/DC song starts playing as they wait for the crowd to take their seats.

  “Chute seven, bro, let her buck and spur the piss out of this fucker.” Maverik steps up behind the chutes and I continue to loosen up and then begin stretching. I notice out of the corner of my eye that my high school douche bag rival is here but pay him no attention, acting as if I have no idea who he is.

  I walk up the steps and stand on the platform behind Maverik, who is getting my horse ready. I grip onto the green metal of the shoot and begin moving side-to-side stretching out all the muscles in my legs. Then I quickly send up a prayer of safety before I hear a beautiful voice singing the National Anthem. I remove my hat out of respect and bound back and forth on my toes, staying loose and ready to roll. I’ll be the third cowboy out tonight.

  The crowd goes wild and the first rider is announced. I pay no attention to scores or the form of riding and instead put on my normal blinders and only focus in on my eight seconds that I have to ride to perfection.

  “Did anyone come to see the two-time reigning champion of the world?”

  The crowd goes wild, and it’s the last thing I hear before settling down onto my horse. Once on the back of the animal and somewhat sheltered in the chute, I block everything out except for the deep voice of my brother.

  “He’s going to buck hard. This son of a bitch hasn’t been ridden around here. He won’t be a runner and will get to bucking once this gate opens. Let some hair fly.”

  Laying back one more time and adjusting my legs, hugging them to the barrel of the horse’s body, I nod my head and the gate opens.

  It’s the sweetest high and quickest dose of adrenaline a guy could take. As soon as I know I’m far enough out of the gate, I spur and keep my body centered on the horse. Every bone in my body jolts and crashes together as the horse tries his damnedest to get me off of him. The buzzer goes off and my free hand comes down. The pickup men are by my side and I hop off and land feet first on the ground.

  The echoing sound of the pissed off bronc pounding the dirt fills my ears as the crowd in the background roars their appreciation. I tip my hat to them and shoot them my dazzling smile as I saunter back to the bucking chutes. The back of my left hamstring is on fire, but I don’t let any of my competitors see me limp. Cowboys fight like hell through pain day after day.

  “Ninety-one points. Merek Slatter sitting at number one right now.” The deep voice of the announcer booms out and causes the crowd to grow louder with hoots and hollers. I wave my hat one more time before disappearing behind the chutes.

  I make eye contact with Mav and he knows all too well that I’m in severe pain. He throws my bag over his shoulder, nods, and leads the way back to the truck. He hoists me up on the tailgate and goes to find the medic tent.

  The back of my thigh throbs as each of the muscles scream at me in pain. On the last buck, I went to spur as hard as I could and felt the rip in the back of my leg. I fumble with the lid of the cooler, trying not to move the lower half of my body. The lid goes sailing off into the air and I sp
ot the bottle of Jack. The best pain medicine around. Twisting the top off, it only takes seconds before the dark liquid soaks my mouth and goes down easy.

  I take at least two or three more shots before I spot Maverik bringing back a bag of ice and a tube of heat rub. I lay back on the bed of the truck and gaze up at the clouds when I feel Maverik adjust my leg as he tries to fix it. I listen to the crowd applaud each rider and then the announcer reads off the scores. Not one of them comes close to mine before they go to the next event.

  Which means another big check for me.

  “Sit up, puss.” Maverik pulls my hand, dragging me forward. The pain is dulled by the combination of booze, lube, and ice.

  “Doing better?” he asks with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Pass the bottle and I’ll be a bit better.”

  Maverik hands me the bottle and I take a few more swigs until all the pain disappears. It takes a hell of a lot more than this to get me trashed, but the perfect buzz lingers now.

  After staring down at my jeans and the bag of ice my leg is propped up on, I look up and nearly pass out. A brunette goddess with piercing green eyes dressed in tight jeans and a white tank with her hair pulled up on her head stands across from me. I rub my eyes hoping to fucking hell they’re playing tricks on me, but when I look again it’s Challis Jones saddling up a paint horse.

  It’s her rig that pulled in earlier and it’s her ass that now has all my senses set on fire. She’s so busy working and prepping her horse she doesn’t notice me flat out staring her ass down. She disappears into her tack area, and then reappears with a gorgeous etched saddle. I make out the words “National Collegiate Rookie of the Year” among the paisleys and other artwork imprinted on the saddle.

  She throws the saddle up with ease on the back of her paint horse, and I don’t miss her toned arms and shoulders as she works on saddling up the horse. Part of me waits for the real cowgirl to step out from the trailer, and then everything hits me like a fucking freight train. The name of her dad, her attitude, her being pissed off at my joke about her riding all sets in the little brain of mine. I’ve never claimed to be a genius, but everything seems to make sense right now.

  Her name flies from my mouth before I think. “Challis.”

  Her wild brown hair flies around the top of her head as she turns to look at me. When we lock eyes, I swear I see a little smile dance on her face, but it’s gone in seconds and her “I’m so not amused with you” mask cements on her face.

  “You tonight?” I holler.

  I watch as she walks over and stops mere feet from me.

  “Naw, just thought I’d bring my pony here and try to be one of the cool kids.” Her hands are firmly planted on her hips. I notice her knuckles going white from clutching them so hard.

  “I see. Well, you did pick the perfect spot to try.” I draw out the word try. “To hang with the cool kids.”

  Just like a dark night sky on the Fourth of July, Challis explodes into a fit of fireworks.

  “You asshole.” She lurches forward and presses down on each of my thighs. “You have no fucking idea who I am. Just because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth doesn’t mean my achievements are any less.”

  She pushes all of her body weight and power down into her palms, reminding me of my lingering injury, and by the look on her face she knows exactly what she’s doing.

  “Okay, okay, Challis, stop.” I grab her forearms and lift them up but don’t let go of them as I tug her into me. I spread my legs just far enough on the tailgate for her to settle in. To my surprise, she does, and it takes everything inside of me not to devour her fucking mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  She tilts her head in confusion.

  “I said I’m sorry. Do you hear me?” I wait for a response that never comes, so I continue. “I may have come off a bit dickish the night I met you in the bar, but damn, you’re smoking hot and I’m not apologizing for thinking or saying that. All the pieces just came together. I’m sorry, Challis.”

  “Well, you should be, Merek.”

  I let out a slight chuckle at her clear disapproval and cute crinkled up face. “I am, Challis, but why are you really here?”

  “You asshole.” She slaps my chest and jerks away from my grip, and I can’t but roll into full on hysterics. She may be a tough cowgirl but easier than hell to wind up.

  “Merek.” I turn my head to see Madison bounding up to me. She may love the rodeo scene more than fooling around with me.

  “Looks like your girlfriend is here, Champ.” Challis takes a few steps back.

  “She’s not my girlfriend…” Before I have a chance to say another word Madison has her arms wrapped around my neck and is peppering kisses all over my cheek.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Challis waves me off and heads back to her trailer without another word.

  Anger boils up in me, just when I finally see a sliver of hope of cracking into Challis Jones, it vanishes as soon as it appeared. Madison goes on and on about something, and I find myself still magnetized to Challis. I watch her movements as she finishes saddling her horse and wrapping his legs.

  The gorgeous paint horse has no idea how lucky he is to have Challis’s hands all over him.

  “Merek, are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah.” I nod but don’t look down at Madison. Soon, I hear Maverik’s voice join in as he starts to entertain her.

  Challis makes eye contact with her steamy green eyes and I don’t look away. She turns her back and raises her tank over head. If I could walk I’d be on my feet, jogging to her and pulling her damn shirt back on. I know it’s part of the rodeo lifestyle but something inside breaks, and I want to haul her sweet little ass to a room and never let her out.

  She peeks over her shoulder and again I don’t break my stare. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was flirting with me. I feel Madison’s fingers stroke my chest, yet I’m hypnotized by Challis. She slides on a lime green button up shirt, but before pulling it all the way down I notice her starched jeans fall a bit from her hips. My heart does double time and my jeans become incredibly tight.

  Her hands work flawlessly tucking in the bottom of her shirt and then she cinches her jeans back up. I can’t see her hands but can tell they are busy buttoning the front of her shirt. She turns around as she does the last buttons and I’m left staring with my mouth wide open.

  “Like that, Champ?” she yells.

  It takes a few minutes for her words to sink in and when they finally do I’m only able to nod my head up and down. I don’t miss the huge smile that covers her face before she lets down her wild hair and begins braiding it.

  “Merek.” I feel a hard slap on my chest and look down to Madison, who has her head propped on my good leg. “Where the hell are you?”

  I glance over to my brother for some help, and he only shakes his head and lets out a light chuckle. Fucker, ain't going to be any help.

  “Just checked out a bit. The pain is pretty bad.” I lie a bit. I’m not checked out and the pain of my leg is bearable. It’s the pain of Challis causing me the most damage right now.

  My answer suffices Madison’s curiosity for the time being and my gaze goes right back to the cowgirl across from me. I look back just in time to see her settle her black Stetson on top of her head. If I thought she was gorgeous in normal clothes, then holy fuck she’s a goddess now.

  She steps up in the stirrup and easily pulls herself up into the saddle, backs her horse up, and begins a slow walk to the warm-up pen.

  “Have fun trying to fit in,” I holler and tip my hat to Challis.

  She doesn’t respond with any words, just gives me the middle finger. The crowd around me erupts in laughter, but when I look down I see a not so pleasant look on Madison’s face.

  Chapter 4

  Challis

  I’m not the fighting type, but being interrupted by that same blonde bimbo again nearly made me want to land a punch right in her large nose. Instead, I waited fo
r Merek’s smartass comment and then flipped him the middle finger. Ever since the other night, the man has all my emotions in overdrive. Love, hate, jealousy, anger, all of them swirl around in me, but in the end all I see is his cocky beautiful ass.

  I kick Teebaby into a steady trot and try to focus in on the task at hand. Winning a check and getting one step closer to taking the ranch back. I know my daddy was just blinded and looking for love, and that’s how I ended up with a fucking evil stepmother. My only saving grace is there are no stepsisters, but sometimes I wish there were so this story would end up like the fairy tale. No fairy tale for this girl, just hard work and busting my ass up and down the road when possible.

  Teebaby slides into a lope finding his stride and it’s like he’s on autopilot, his heart lives for this sport of chasing cans. If anything ever happened to him, with my daddy being gone, it would be the end of my story. He’s my only other living family besides Tori. I brush those nasty thoughts away, roll my head from side to side, and begin to prepare myself mentally for the rodeo.

  I catch a view of Merek hobbling up behind the chutes and settling in to watch the rodeo. Either he’s desperate to see the upcoming event or very supportive of female athletes in rodeo. I secretly hope he’s dying to watch me. I know it’s insane and even a bit childish, but I can’t help wanting to show him what I’m made of.

  The help in the back starts calling names to line up, so I slow Teebaby down to let him rest a bit at a slower pace before he sees the gate, because once he sees the gate nothing will be able to stop him from gunning full speed.

  The crowd lights back up after the barrels are placed out in the arena and some pumping music fills the night sky. I’m third up but can’t seem to quit looking over at Merek, who hasn’t been shy about staring me down. The man is about to get on my last nerve. While I’d admit part of him intrigues me, the rest flat out disgusts me.

  I hear a seventeen second run and then an eighteen before it’s my turn. I’ve never ran with these girls before, considering I’m from a different county and honestly had no idea how I’d compare.