Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,29

a break from the chaos of the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him talking to a security guard, Rob, and she strained her ears to hear what he was saying.

“Just looking for the bathroom,” the shifter said. “I drank too much coffee before the interviews.”

“Let me see your ID badge again,” Rob demanded. He’d been one of the security guards introduced to the bulls and their teams before the interviews. The venues were doing better to try to keep the shifters protected from the poisonings.

“Oh, of course.” The shifter pulled up the media ID that was hanging from his neck by a lanyard.

The security guard studied it for a few seconds, then nodded his head and spoke into a radio at his shoulder. “We have one headed to the bathrooms. Name is Dante Miller.” Static sounded, and then he said, “Yep, media.” He twitched his head down the hallway. “Make it quick.”

The security missed the lethal expression on Dante’s face as he walked away, but Annabelle didn’t. That shifter wanted to kill that guard. For what? For making him mind the venue’s rules?

Dante, Dante, Dante…you don’t belong here.

“How’s Quickdraw doing?” Rob asked her as he approached.

Dammit, Dante had disappeared down the hallway.

“About the same as every other interview he’s done,” she said with a laugh.

Rob chuckled. “I swear he chose the wrong career to remain invisible.”

“Agree. He likes the bucking part and the competition, but the attention isn’t his favorite.”

“Well, we all love him and Two Shots and Dead here. They always keep the venue on its toes when they roll through.”

“Oh, God,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t even imagine what your team has had to put up with.”

“Yeah, well, last year when they had semi-finals here, Quickdraw heard about one of the guards having to pay his wife’s medical expenses out of pocket. We had a GoFundMe page running, and the next day after he bucked, a huge donation came in. There was no note on the donation, and the signature only said Q. It was the for the exact amount he’d won that night. We’ve all watched him this year and cheered him on. He’s something special, whether he wants the attention for it or not. We’ll be cheering for him this weekend, too. Back to work, I’ll see you at the event.” He turned to leave. “Oh,” he said, turning around. “If you get a chance to bring it up, can you tell Quickdraw that Don’s wife is okay now? His donation saved them from bankruptcy. He made all the difference. Don wasn’t as stressed out with finances while he was taking care of his wife. He changed that family’s life.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“Because I saw you standing by him. Quickdraw kept looking to you, checking if you were okay, kept putting his hand on your back. He walked you to your spot to watch the interviews.” Rob smiled. “He’s yours. Anyone with eyes in their heads can see that.” He tipped an invisible hat and strode off the other direction, disappeared down a hall.

Three seconds was all she allowed herself to stand there and absorb those words. He’s yours.

Such a feeling of safety, joy, and relief flooded her.

Okay. Okay. As tough as she tried to be, the reality was she wanted him to be hers. And she wanted to be his.

But someone was here with bad intentions, and she needed to find out what they were. Quickdraw and his herd’s safety depended on it, and she wasn’t on the outside anymore. She needed him to be safe, too.

She padded casually toward where Dante had disappeared down the hallway at the end of this one, and when she rounded the corner, she made sure she was staring at her phone, just in case he was still there. The hallway was empty, but that was okay. The scent of predator shifter was strong to her heightened sense of smell. She got this feeling that he was a shifter with sharp teeth. Something very dangerous. A wolf, perhaps, or a big cat. Those shifters weren’t out to the public yet and weren’t common, but they existed. Rork had taught her that no matter how rare an event, as long as it existed, it wasn’t to be ruled out.

There was the soft murmur of talking somewhere close, and she stopped and listened. She could just, juuuuust barely hear some of the words.

“The rankings are still the same… Got the