Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,53

score don’t even have to count. I’ll go in Train Wreck’s spot.”

“Perfect. We need some less experienced bulls to fill the other spots. I can see Quickdraw and Two Shots thinking about it, but your bulls are too much for the other riders.”

Cheyenne was staring at Raven. Just…staring from the other side of Two Shots. Obviously staring.

A few loaded seconds passed until another bull shifter raised his hand. “I’ll do it, but I need a big rest between. I’m not built like them boys yet.” He jerked his chin toward Quickdraw, Dead, and Two Shots. “One buck is hard enough on the body. I need to go first and then last.”

“I can work with that,” Tommy said. He relayed information into a walkie-talkie and then asked for a last volunteer.

No one was speaking up. No one wanted to do an extra buck, and Raven understood. It wouldn’t help their ranks, and it would tire them out. There was the risk of an injury with each professional buck, and if it wasn’t for points? It would be tragic to be knocked out that way.

“Hagan’s Lace will do it,” Dead called out.

“What?” Raven whispered.

Dead lowered his voice and leveled her with a look. “You can do this.”

Cheyenne stepped forward, “Tommy, I sent you the video of Raven’s cow bucking in practice. She has no experience, has no need for the points, and would be a good match for Buster Jennings.”

“I ain’t ridin’ no cow,” Buster yelled.

“Are you scared, you little dipshit?” Dead asked.

“I’m not taking some reject shifter just because the other ones couldn’t stop themselves getting poisoned.”

Reject. Shifter.

Inside of her, the animal stirred.

Why was Cheyenne smiling at her? “Your eyes look evil as hell right now.”

Everyone was chattering and murmuring and pissed off at the audacity of Cheyenne to volunteer a cow shifter, and Raven’s fury was growing with each breath as she listened to these idiots.

“I’ll do it.” She dragged her gaze to Tommy. “I’ll buck. Should be easy for tweedle-dickhead over there. I’m just a cow.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easy, and I won’t get no points when you go prissy prancing around the arena with me bored on your back! I’m not getting embarrassed out there!” Buster yelled.

“Then don’t get bucked off by a cow, and you won’t be embarrassed,” Raven barked. “Are we done here?”

Tommy’s bushy gray brows were arched high and his lips were pursed. “I think we have everything we need. Bull shifters”—he cleared his throat and amended—“and cow shifters. I need y’all changed and ready in five minutes. We’re going to start loading the chutes. The crowd is already wondering what the hell is going on. And for the love of everything holy, don’t eat anything!”

Chapter Fifteen

“This is really happening.” Raven couldn’t catch her breath. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re too badass to panic right now,” Dead assured her quietly. “I’m gonna be there to help load you into the chute, and I told Tommy ain’t nobody touching your flank strap but me. I won’t change and load into my chute until you’re done bucking, and at the end of it, Cheyenne will be waiting for you.”

“But not where I can get her, right? You told everyone to stay out of my animal’s way?”

“Yes, I did. The handlers are professionals at their jobs. No more worrying over the little details. Between me and Quickdraw and Two Shots and Cheyenne, we’ve got you.”

“What if I kill Buster?”

“Well, good riddance,” Dead muttered, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it in a pile with the jean shorts he’d already peeled off her. “That dude is a chode.”

She snorted. She didn’t mean to, but it just crawled up her throat and escaped.

Dead gripped her shoulders and lowered down just enough to look at her eye-level. “You’re gonna do this, Raven. You’re gonna own the animal. You’re not gonna hide her anymore, and I’m gonna be so damn proud of you. When that gate opens? You get Buster off you. You put him in the dirt, okay?”

“I can do this,” she whispered shakily.

“Louder and like you mean it.”

She exhaled and swallowed the coward in her back down. “I can do this.”

“Thata girl. Hagan’s Lace, go earn that name. Go show people who the fuck she is.”

A handler yelled through the door, “We need her now!”

“Quick change, okay?” Dead murmured.

Raven nodded, and he jogged to the door, still clad in only a pair of jeans. “Do this for them boys that are down right now,”