Page 57 of Spurred On

“I wasn’t aware I was dead before, but I am glad to be brought back to life,” I tease, and she lightly slaps my arm.

She rolls her eyes at me but continues with her search. It’ll be a miracle if she walks out of here with less than ten things. The girl is a shopaholic. “You know what I mean. You’ve been going through the motions. But there’s something about you that’s new. A sparkle.” She brings her shoulders up to her ears and shakes them a little.

“That is the lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” I mutter, but in reality, I know she’s right. I feel more alive now than I ever have. Happy with everything in my life, which feels almost foreign.

“Glad to see you’re still kind of a bitch.” She winks at me, and I smush my lips together to hide the smile.

“I don’t think I could ever get rid of that.” I mock her and laugh as I move on to the next display, full of turquoise jewelry and flashy earrings. Not at all my style, but it’s still fun to look. Erin quickly follows behind as Aspen checks out.

“Well, I am happy you’re happy. Life not being so heavy lately has changed you, and I’m grateful. That’s all.”

I sling my arm around her shoulders, giving her a half hug. Sometimes, I forget how lucky I am to have her. I drop my arm and hold up a pair of earrings for her to check out. “Thank you. I am happy. It’s weird. I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Life usually doesn’t go this good for me.”

She looks in the small mirror on the display table, holding the earrings up to her ears. They really do look cute on her. She can pull off flashy. “Or maybe you’ve lived through enough hurt for a lifetime, and it’s finally your turn to just breathe and enjoy it all.”

My heart suddenly feels a little weird; emotion causes a funny feeling to churn over in my chest. “Thanks, Erin. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey losers, if you want to see the whole reason we’re here, we might want to get back to our seats,” Aspen hollers from the end of the tent, closer to the open walkway.

“Good, that sweater you were eyeing was ghastly,” Erin says, snatching the sweater from my arms as we make our way to Aspen.

“It was not!” The metal hanger clanks on the rack as Erin hangs it back up.

She lets out a dramatic sigh. “We need to work on your fashion sense. If you insist on going country, you need to at least do it in style.” She loops her arm through mine.

“Sorry, babe, I agree with her.” Aspen shrugs. I knew I would regret introducing them.

“What’s wrong with my style?” I look down at my outfit: plain blue jeans, a pair of boots Mav gave me, and a short-sleeve white tee.

“Well,to start, there isn’t one,” Erin says. Aspen laughs, and I plot my revenge on the both of them.

We get to our seats just in the nick of time. The rumble of the crowd makes the building feel like it is shaking. This is a much larger arena than the last rodeo I went to. The energy in the crowd feels almost electric.

“Up next, we have Maverrrrrick Ryder, riding the BEAST.” The announcer's voice carries through the arena at the same time my nerves jump out of my skin.

“I hate watching him ride,” I mutter under my breath. My hands fidget in my lap, pulling at the skin next to my nails—a nervous habit I picked up years ago that seems to have gotten worse lately.

“He’s done this a million times.” Aspen’s hand pats my leg, but it doesn’t calm the storm brewing inside my chest.

I keep my eye glued on Maverick as he gets ready. Our seats are high enough that I can see over the rails and have a near-perfect view. “That makes the odds worse, not better.” I realize my voice comes out a little more stern. I look over to Aspen with an apologetic smile. “But thank you for the sentiment.” I get her train of thought, but my anxiety doesn’t want to listen.

A terrible feeling churns in my gut, but I shut it down. It has to be fine. He will be fine. He’ll always come home to me. I repeat the mantra in my mind, willing it to be true.

My eyes are still on Mav, who’s sitting on the bull as he wraps the rope tightly around his hand. His coach ensures his helmet is secure. He looks to the stands; somehow, he always knows where to find me. When his gaze lands on mine, I offer him a smile, hoping to mask the waves of emotion I’m feeling. He turns his attention back to the bull and gets situated before nodding to the gatekeeper to open up.

Holding my breath, I start the countdown. Eight seconds doesn’t sound that long but watching the one you love holding on for literal dear life feels like an eternity. The bull whips around while bucking. Somehow, Mav stays on. Another kick, another second.

Mav spurs him on, and that is where it all goes wrong.

The bull rapidly changes directions, ripping Mav right off his back. His hand is bound too tightly, though, and he can’t get loose. My hands fly to my face as a gasp escapes me, and the whole crowd by the sounds of it. The bull bucks again, and Mav’s feet touch the ground for half a second before the bull’s hooves come down on him.

The bullfighters swarm Mav and the bull and manage to get Mav’s arm ripped free. I’m running before I can even see him walk off.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and my quick pace causes my lungs to burn. My feet stomp down the stairs as fast as they can go. I run down to the rider’s quarters, dodging past people, not caring if I’m running into them. I need to see him.

Security tries to stop me once I hit the riders’ area. “Ma’am, you can’t be back here.”

“Well, that is too fucking bad because I’m hiswife. Let. Me. Through,” I say as I try to shoulder past them with no luck.

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