Page 2 of Never Left You

I gave him a smile before turning back to my husband as he lowered himself on the bull and began positioning his hands.

“This is the first one,” I replied. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at Cash, whose eyes were now zeroed in on Sylas. “I didn’t think you would be here today.”

Cash shrugged his shoulder and shifted his gaze to me. “Carolyn—” I rolled my eyes at the mention of his wife “—is waiting out in the car. I told her I just needed to come see Sy before we left. I won’t be here long.”

“Ah so we’re a pit stop?” I lifted my chin, turning to give him a teasing smile.

The last time they were here together ended in a huge fight, Carolyn screaming at Cash across the room until he finally broke and left the house. That was months ago, and now we were lucky just to see him for a few minutes. Cash was trying to mend something that was—in my opinion—beyond repair. But that didn’t matter, he was still going to try.

Cash side eyed me, taking the tease. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“I’m only kidding,” I used my shoulder to bump into him, his body swaying as he turned to give me a sideways smirk.

My attention flew back to the dirt once I heard the chute clang open, followed by a whoop from Rhett and Wyatt. My focus went straight to Sylas as his hand waved in the air and the bull bucked. These were always the longest eight seconds of my life. Even in our own arena, my heart lodged in my throat. I would count the seconds as the bull bucked and kicked, always moving slower in my head than in real time. One, two, three. I wasn’t like this when any other cowboy got on a bull. Only for Sylas. Four, five, six. I bit the inside of my lip. While my husband loved this sport, there was constant fear in the back of my head every time he rode, giving me a love-hate relationship with bull riding. It was a thrill to watch Sylas in his element. I’d always support him as much as I could. Seven…eight…

I breathed.

Stetson cheered as he watched, and as soon as that buzzer went off, Sylas flew from the bull’s back, making it look easier than it really was. He raised his arms in the air, and his feet began bouncing in his victory. It was then I realized my husband wasn’t wearing any protective gear.

And then, time sped up.

And everything happened so fast.

Lachlan was screaming, running towards Sylas. Rhett jumped the gate from the chute and followed Wyatt as they rushed towards the bull—the now furious bull—as it began charging Sylas.

“He better get out of the way,” Cash grunted.

“Sy…” I muttered, my heart thumping so loud I couldn’t even hear my own words.

“Sy!” Lachlan yelled, waving his arms. “Move your ass!”

Sylas turned to look at Lachlan, eyes widening at the sight of Rhett and Wyatt—and then the bull smashed his head straight into him. He was in the air in a matter of seconds, falling flat on his back after being hit from behind by the bull’s horns. I jumped, leaving Stetson there at the gate as I made my way towards the arena. I didn’t even notice Cash grab Stetson’s back to keep him steady; my focus was entirely on Sylas. Wyatt got to the gate first, holding me back as Rhett and Lachlan tried to gain the bull’s attention. But that bull—it only had eyes for Sylas as it ran at him again.

“Sylas!!” I screamed as the bull’s horns flipped him in the air again.

“Cash!” Rhett’s voice rang in the back of my head, “Call 911!”

Lachlan managed to get the bull from dirt, but then everything was a blur. The silence in the arena was more deafening than the shouts coming from my brother and cousin. Wyatt’s arm around my waist tightened as I tried to focus. Rhett moved faster than I’d ever seen, and I could finally hear Stetson’s screams. But my eyes were solely on Sylas, lying in the dirt, completely motionless.

Wyatt’s arm fell from my body.

I had never moved so fast in my entire life.

Blood seeped from his brown hair, his arm was crushed, and his shoulder was dislocated, bent in an unnatural way. I could even feel pain radiating through my bones. I moved my handdown his chest, noticing his white shirt was turning a deep shade of red as blood soaked through. I was too scared to take the shirt off—terrified of what I would see there.

“Sy…” I whimpered, running my hands through his hair, my flesh turning red and sticky from his blood that was now smearing over my fingers. I grimaced, my entire body shaking as I pulled him into my lap. Swallowing the tears I knew were coming, I tried to speak. “Why the hell didn’t you wear your gear?”

He blinked. Once. Twice, before his eyes fluttered closed. “Mi Alma…”

“Ambulance is on the way.” Cash called out, his yelling nothing more than a faint whisper.

“Mi Corazon.” Sylas met my gaze as he spoke, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Looking down at my husband, I knew he wasn’t. But he wasn’t saying he was ok. He was saying, ‘you’re okay.’ He meant me. In this moment, no matter how much pain he was feeling, his mind was still focused on me. Tears began to fall on my cheeks as my hands cradled his face, his breaths slowing as he searched my eyes with his. There was too much blood. The color drained from his cheeks, the dirt that covered his cheeks sanding out even against his skin. His chest hitched as he struggled to take deep breaths as he lifted his arm to my neck, and yet…he still managed to give me a soft smile.

“You’re okay,” he repeated softly. “Mi Alma…”

My Soul.

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