by Shey Stahl
I take a deep breath and reel in the reckless thoughts. The ones of this being the end of my career. It’s dramatic, maybe, but you never know what injury will lead to it. It’s not if you get hurt, it’s when and how bad.
But it’s not this injury I’m concerned about. It’s her. The fearless heart on the line, ready and willing to love me in every possible way. It’s too much. Too fast, too intense, too . . . distracting.
The physician on tour sits in front of me, examining my wrist that managed to take a hit too. I’m not concerned with it. It could be broken and I’d still go out there and get on another bull. But my back, that’s an entirely different story altogether. “Can you take a deep breath for me, Grayer?”
I do and it’s like white-hot pain radiating through my spine and into my thighs. I’m certainly no stranger to pain. I’ve broken every bone in my body but my back and neck, two career-ending injuries I hope to never have.
Wincing in pain, I hunch forward, wanting to curl into the table. A couple of deep breaths and I pull myself together, only to be told I need to be taken to the emergency room for some X-rays and to be evaluated.
I go, but all I can think about is her fucking face when she came into the locker room. The devastation, the confusion—I never wanted to bring her into this lifestyle. What if she lost me too? What would that mean for her?
At the hospital, they tell me I’ve got some bruises, torn a few muscles in my back, and herniated two of the discs. None of that matters. I mean, sure it fucking matters. I’ve dropped in the points and this might be the end of my championship run for me. But what fucking guts me is the look on her face when she sees me again, in the ER, and the fact that I’ve slipped from that number one spot in the points standings all because I couldn’t fucking wait to get her home and in my bed.
I’ve taken risks in my career. All the time. The bigger, the better. The meaner the bull, the better. But this . . . Maesyn . . . she’s so . . . her. And like a selfish fucking idiot, I took her heart when I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing with it.
Moonlight pale, she stares at me, sadness etched in the tears leaking silently from the corners of her eyes.
We say nothing, but by the way she gasps like the wind’s been knocked out of her, I think she gets it. She inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly, like she’s trying to calm her heart down. And I’m so goddamn mad I know what she’s thinking because it means I let her get too close.
The term "turn back" is used to describe a bull that displays a bucking pattern in which he heads in one direction and then makes a sharp move in the opposite direction.
We leave Nashville that night and drive back to Grayer’s house. I thought for sure he would have told Haylee and me to leave after Nashville, but he doesn’t and invites me back to Decatur with him. He spends the next week in bed letting his ribs and back heal. Nothing’s broken, but tender, and he has some disc damage. Regardless, he refuses to tell me about it. Just says, “I’m fine. I’ve done worse before.” And by the cold restless stare he has, I leave it alone.
I take care of him, trying to make him comfortable, but he says to me with apprehension in his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask, unsure what he’s referring to.
“Like I’m your answer. I’m not.”
I don’t know what to make of him or his words and how he changed so quickly.
Britany keeps Wyatt with her since Grayer’s in no condition to take care of him, and I think being away from his son makes him more irritable.
He’s distant, distracted, and rarely in the mood for conversation. I even make him my macaroni and cheese only to have Ty drool over it and ask, “Can we keep her?”
I’m not sure what to make of it, but all Grayer says, with his expression as distant as his body, “You haven’t tried her peach cobbler yet.” His words, though sweet, don’t touch his eyes.
Feeling completely out of place, I can’t help but wonder if my presence is even welcome anymore. It all changed in Nashville and I don’t know how or why, other than his injury. I knew they got injured constantly. And more times than not, they hid their injuries, pulled their hat down tight and got on the next bull without a bat of an eyelash. Like now. Ty has a broken ankle, yet he tapes it up. Grayer, not counting the back injury, he has a complete tear of his MCL and he’s suffered two concussions already this year. And Reid, his wrist is broken in two spots, a partial ACL tear and a blown knee. Still rides. It’s their life and until now, I had no idea the sacrifices they make to do what they love.
It’s the night before he’s leaving for Thackerville for a two-night show and we’re in his room together. I’m not sure if he’s going to ask me to come with him, or tell me it’s time I leave.
Grayer says nothing but pats the side of the bed. I lie next to him, naked, and his look confuses me. He has that expression in his eyes that I can’t identify, but I know, deep down, it’s going to break my heart. He looks down at my hip, his thumb brushing over my skin and then he pulls me closer, his mouth finding mine.
I don’t understand his movements. They’re slow and gentle like he wants it to last, but strangely enough, there’s sadness in every touch.
Trying to forget the look in his eyes, I lower my lashes, loving the way his hands move over my skin. His hands shake slightly, and there’s a nervous edge to his creased brow.
He moves differently with me this time, his body hovering over mine, kissing deeper, letting me know something has changed. I’m afraid this is him saying goodbye.
I’m savoring the warmth and everything he’s giving to me and the way his mouth hardly ever parts from mine. I want to say something to him, tell him that I love him, but it just doesn’t seem like the right time or that he would want me to.
His hands tremble, moving from my hips to my face, cupping my cheeks. He presses his weight into my body and takes my breath with it.
“Maesyn,” he whispers, his lips urgent against mine as his movements speed. When he pulls back, his elbows now supporting his weight, his features are strangely determined. Like he’s trying to find the words to tell me something.
I’m not sure I want to hear it. Unnerved, tears burn my eyes.
Grayer turns the other way, never meeting my gaze when he sees that, his head falling against my shoulder. Neither one of us can hold back any longer as he throws himself into his movements. We both find our release at the same time. When his body collapses against mine, my arms wrap around him, never wanting to let go.
Exhaling heavily, he slides over my body and to my side. I close my eyes and breathe in deep, wondering what it was he was going to say.
What keeps going through my mind is that he saw those tears and he turned his head.
I know what he’s doing. He’s pushing me away.
It’s around one that morning when I wake up in his bed and the warmth of his body next to mine is gone.
Pulling on his shirt, I go looking for him and find him in the kitchen sitting on the floor with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Why are you here?” he asks, his voice low and rough. “What are you doing with me?”
“Because I want to be here with you, Grayer.” My words tremble.
He says nothing to that.
Nothing.
He looks at me for a moment, his mouth moving like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Not knowing what else to do, I sit down with him on the floor.
That song he was singing in the barn that night, Randy Travis’s “Are We in Trouble Now” is playing in the house softly, though I don’t know where it’s coming from.
When I sit next to him, he won’t look at me. And when he does, I know something is up. He’s giving me that look I’ve seen. The same look he gave me in the barn so many times. I don’t want to hear what he’s going to say to me. I just know it.
When Jamie died, my dad told me about the accident. But even before he told me, I knew by his face it was bad.
An impending doom maybe. It’s as though my heart’s going to fucking shatter and I wish it would. Maybe it’ll stop the pain. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my palms sweating so bad I have to run them down my thighs.
Grayer shakes his head at a thought maybe and reaches for the whiskey bottle in front of him. He takes a drink and then sets the bottle back down on the floor. He’s struggling, but he has something to tell me. “Maesyn . . . I. . . .” He can’t finish his sentence.
My anger rises when I see what this is. And then my eyes sting, because he can’t say it. Why can’t he? “What, Grayer? What’s the matter with you?” I shout. “Do you not want me here?”
His eyes snap to mine, a little shocked, and then he catches himself. “You need to leave,” he breathes, his voice monotone, staring at the bottom of his bottle. A confused expression comes over his brow and then he runs his hand over the back of his neck.
My heart sinks at his words. It’s immediate, desolation rushing over me with only four words.
“I . . . can’t have you around.” If he wants to break me down to tears, he’s done that.
“Why?” Avoiding looking at him, I stare at the bottle in his hand, trying to grasp what he’s saying to me.
“Because you’re a distraction. One I can’t have.” He sighs. “I got hurt because I looked up at you and couldn’t wait to get up there and kiss you. That’s a problem for me heading into the championship.”
I let his words sink in. I don’t know why I thought he was different. He’s clearly not. He’s just like the rest of them. Used me until it wasn’t fun for him anymore.
I want answers. I want to demand he answer me and give me a better reason than just being a distraction, but then again, I don’t want anything from him. Headstrong, maybe, but I’m breaking, and I think he sees it. My problem is, I’m that girl who’s always playing with fire, knowing she’s going to get burned, but overlooking the flames for the heat.
Wordlessly, I stand, and I still don’t say anything when I’m walking away, even as he’s calling out my name. Maybe he wants to make me feel worse.
Whatever the reason, I don’t turn around.
“Maesyn?” He stands immediately and comes down the hall after me. “Wait. I didn’t mean you have to leave here. I just can’t have you come to Thackerville with me.”
I turn to face him, and he turns to walk away. “Don’t worry, Grayer. I know when I’ve been used and it’s time to go.”
He stops dead in his tracks and turns to face me. His eyes are intent on mine like he’s trying to burn a hole through me.
I recognize this look because it’s the one he gave Henry in the bar the other night for staring at me on the bull. Only now, it’s directed at me.
He swears softly, groaning, shaking his head. “Why do you do this to me?”
“What are you talking about, Grayer?”
“Nothing.”
Fucking nothing? What?
Grayer puts his hands on his hips, facing the wall. His head dips forward, contemplating, and then I see it in the sudden change in his posture, he’s regretting the words he said.
When he hears my sobs, he whirls to face me. Like he can take back his words. He can’t. He can never take back words. Ever.
“Maesyn, wait!” He tries to bring me to his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist, but I push back away from him. His fingers dig into my flesh, desperate for me to not move.
“No!” I pound my fists into his chest, my tears flowing freely over my red cheeks. “Let me go! You wanted to push me away and you did.”
Shoving away from him, I distance myself, just like he’s done to me emotionally.
His eyes drop to the ground and he lets me walk out.
A bull rider who enters a competition and then decides to forfeit his entry fees and not compete for reasons other than injury has "turned out" of the competition. If an injury forces a bull rider to opt out of competition, the bull rider doctor releases him from competition and is not required to forfeit his entry fee. 25th PBR: Unleash the Beast riders are not allowed to turn out of competition or they will face strict fines. This rule ensures that the world's best bull riders are featured at every 25th PBR: Unleash the Beast event.
I shouldn’t have said those things to her. I want her in my life, but not if it means risking my career and the future I’m trying to secure for Wyatt.
I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life. The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. But I can’t risk the championship like that again. She’s so young and looking for someone to give her heart to and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. The possibility of her giving it to me terrifies me.
It was always going to end. Today, or a month, or six months from now when she realized there’s an entire world out there that has nothing to do with me. I should’ve pulled away sooner. But she was so . . . her. And I was a selfish fucking idiot who wanted to get lost in her untamed desire for more.
Ty comes out of his room in a pair of shorts, looking for food. He looks around. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
I don’t like the way he says girlfriend. She’s not. I hate that term anyway. Saying she’s my girlfriend puts an official title on our relationship and I don’t want to admit there’s anything official about the way she gets in my fucking head.
But I don’t explain any of that to Ty. He wouldn’t listen to me anyway. “In Haylee’s truck. I broke it off with her.” I want to knock my own teeth out for what I said to her. Running a shaking hand through my hair, I tug hard, the pain giving me focus. What the fuck was I thinking? Goddamn this shit. It’s my fault. I invited her. I broke her because I couldn’t handle it.
Ty looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, because I clearly have. “Why’d you do that?”
Regret gnaws at me, sending my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. “She’s a kid, man. She should be out living her life and not following someone like me around. She should go to college, do something with her life besides spreading her legs for me.”
Ty isn’t sure what to make of my blurted confession. In fact, he stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. I totally have.
It’s when his eyes drift over my shoulder and I know what I’ve done. I don’t have to turn around to know who heard me. She was standing there. I know for sure when I hear the door slam shut.
Kill me. Just fucking shoot me in the head for saying that. My stomach knots and the bile rises.
What have I done?
Invented by former PBR rider Cody Lambert, the vest is designed to prevent injury when a rider gets stomped on or gored by a bull. The vest is made of a material called Kevlar, the same material used to make bulletproof vests. A rider's vest helps protect bones and internal organs that are otherwise vulnerable to injury if crushed by a 2,000-pound bull.
I sleep in Haylee’s truck in the driveway.
When I wake up, my skin burns from the sun. Sitting up, I see Haylee walking toward me, a little slower than usual eating a bag of beef jerky, in her bra, underwear, and cowboy boots. She reminds me of a toddler who refuses to get dressed and eats what she wants on the road.
“Is Ty here?” I ask when she gets in the truck and looks over at me.
“He just left. They’re heading for Thackerville.” She takes another bite of beef jerky. “Why did you sleep in the truck?”
“She should do something with her life besides spreading her legs for me.”
My heart splits at the words so hard to accept, let alone say. “Grayer told me to leave. He says I’m a distraction and basically, a slut.”
I tell her everything he said and that I refused to stay there with him after that.
Haylee doesn’t say much. She’s a listener. She’s just there for me. But then she asks, “Do you want to go home?” She’s stroking my hair back to cup my face with her palms. “If that’s what you want, we will.”
“Ty’s expecting you to be in Thackerville with him, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but we’re
just messing around, Maesyn. He’s a boy. One I just met.” She shrugs and her eyes drop from mine. “It’s not like he loves me. I know that. And you’re my girl. I go where you go and if you say it’s time to leave, we leave.”
Her loyalty to me means the world to a girl who’s just had her heart ripped out. “But what if he does? What if he loves you? What if he’s your one chance at true love? I can’t ruin that for you.”
Her cheeks flush because though she knows it’s not there, I think she wants it to be. They’re cute together. “Let’s go to Thackerville. Fuck Grayer.”
It’s only an hour drive to Thackerville from Decatur. We stop off for food and it feels like forever since we’ve really been able to talk. Haylee tells me all about Ty and how funny he is, which I experienced the night we watched Wyatt together. It’s nice to see her so happy, but I can’t help that I’m feeling a little down. I want to tell her everything about Grayer, but then it hurts.
I want to be happy for her and I am, but it’s one of those things where you keep thinking to yourself, why can’t I have that too?
I want more than anything for Haylee to be happy. “Are you glad you came?” I ask, dipping my fries in ketchup.
Haylee takes a drink of her milkshake and then smiles. “I am. I never want to go home.”
It makes me a little sad to hear that because I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I knew chasing Grayer around wasn’t a life, but goddamn it, I was starting to enjoy being a roadie. I could easily see myself traveling with him to events and cheering him on. If that made me one of those buckle bunnies, I didn’t care. I’ll take that if I can have Grayer and the open road of freedom around every corner.
And then, it hits me. Why am I like this? Why am I doing this to myself over a guy?
Well . . . because I love him.
There. No more liking. I love him even though it’s been just a few weeks. I don’t care if that makes me naïve, or whatever. You can’t help who you love.