Page 48 of Ride the Sky

Unhinged, I stride forward. Every molecule in my body needs to be beside her. No one’s keeping me from her. Not again.

“Wyatt.” Davis tries to grab me, but I duck under the barricade that is his arm and past the doctor.

“Sir, you need to sit down. Family only.” The doctor snares my arm, stopping me.

I whirl around like a goddamn psycho and growl.

Bad fucking mistake.

“Sheisfamily,” I snarl and give the doctor a hard shove and a glare. “She’s my fucking wife.”

ONE YEAR AGO

Fallon flies. Literally.

I swear as she’s catapulted through the air and lands hard in the dust. The crowd cheers.

She picks herself up, dusts herself off, and then limps toward the gate.

Me, I’m already shouldering my way through the crowd to get to her.

“No stretcher,” she says, waving off a medic.

I reach for her. “You should get checked out.”

“For bruised ribs?” she scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

Hobbling, she hangs on to my shoulder. I keep an arm around her waist, keep her steady. She’s loopy, not like she’d admit it. Fallon McGraw could have her arm hacked off in broad daylight and she’d still lie through her teeth that she was fine. At least to me.

We give a series of interviews to the local station. Afterward, we head to a dive bar off the Vegas Strip to drink Old Crow whiskey neat. A couple of other cowboys from the rodeo are there, but there’s no sign of Fallon’s team. For once, it’s just us.

I watch her flinch as she settles on a bar stool.

“Your ribs are broken.”

“Big deal.” Hissing a breath, she gestures at the sling on my arm. I got patched up after my last ride when a snagged rope yanked it out of place. “You’re busted, too.”

I shoot back my whiskey. “What if something worse happens?”

“Then it happens.”

“You should go to the hospital.”

When I stare at her, she rolls her eyes. “I don’t have insurance, Wyatt. The bill I had after Aiden nearly bankrupted me.” She glowers into her whiskey. “Asshole.”

With white knuckles, I grip my glass. It’s the most honest conversation we’ve had since she was kidnapped by that motherfucker last year.

She snorts. “I’m just a girl, and you worry. Be honest.”

“I always worry about you, Fallon.” Ever since she started riding bulls without telling her family or friends, she’s had me in a fucking chokehold.

But it’s not because she’s just a girl. It’s because I care about her. Too damn much for my own good.

I scoot my stool closer. The heat from her body hits me at the same time as her bourbon and vanilla scent does. “You oughta get some insurance.”

“Can’t.” She gulps the rest of her whiskey, lifts her glass to signal for another. “Lovely needs meds, and the purse strings are tight.”

That nag’s been on her last legs for too damn long now, but I’d never say that. Not to Fallon.She loves horses more than I do.

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