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.