Page 82 of A Lot Like Love
His body slammed back and forth, but Ryder kept his shoulders soft, went into his zone of feeling the rhythm of the bull, didn’t fight it. Then one buck was followed by another, too quickly, the beast spinning around so fast that Ryder lost his rhythm and then had to release his hold, not prepared to get his hand stuck.Oh hell.The bull was mad, continuing to buck and charge even when Ryder had given up, was fast about to meet the ground, and he knew then it was all turning to shit.
He was struck as he was falling, a kick from the bull’s hoof distorting his fall, and all he could see was the ground and then black, the screaming crowd fading as the bull snorted way too close to his head.
No.“No!” Chloe’s scream echoed so loud in her head she couldn’t hear anything else. It was like glass splintering into shards around her; she had no idea if she was still screaming over and over again or whether it was just in her head.
Ryder was lying on the ground, his body eerily still. The way his head had slammed into the hard-packed dirt a memory she’d never forget. It seemed like years before a group of guys ran to him and scooped him up, the bull distracted by the clown. She wanted to scream to them not to lift him like that, to be careful of his neck, of his head, but all she could do was watch in silence as they hauled him over the fence away from danger. They didn’t have any choicebutto move him.
When she couldn’t see him any longer she ran, pushing blindly through the crowd, desperate to find him, to make sure he was okay.He had to be okay.She’d just been talking to him, he’d been standing in front of her, she’d touched his cheek.He had to be okay.
“Chloe.”
She ignored her name being called, didn’t give a shit who was trying to get her attention.
“Chloe!” This time the call was followed by a firm hand closing over her arm, forcing her to stop.
“Let me go!” she screamed, frantically searching for Ryder, desperate to see where he was, where he’d been taken.
“Chloe, stop.”
She spun like a wildcat, ready to claw at whoever was holding her, and then she met Nate’s gaze, saw Ryder’s oldest brother standing before her, his hold softer now that he had her attention.
“Where is he? What…”
“Shhh,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close, holding her tight to his chest as she sobbed. “Just stay here with me.”
Chloe couldn’t hold back, tucked hard against Nate, clutching his shirt as her body heaved with sobs. He smelled like Ryder, their cologne the same, and it only made her pain worse.
“Where is he?” she choked out, pushing back to look up at the man holding her.
“There’s nothing we can do but wait,” Nate said, his voice gruff. She looked up into his eyes, looked through the blur of her tears to see the pain in his own gaze. “If anyone can pull through this, Ryder can.”
“But his helmet,” she stuttered. “He was wearing a helmet, he must be okay. Nate? Please tell me he’s going to be okay?”
She watched as Nate’s big shoulders lifted. He looked away, then back at her, taking her hand in his. “His helmet broke open, but maybe it saved him. Chase is riding in the ambulance with him, you can come with me.”
Chloe was numb. She held tight to Nate’s hand as he walked with her over to the ambulance. All they saw was Chase as he stared out the back window at them, his hand raised in a solitary wave as the ambulance pulled away, lights flashing, siren blaring. She followed Nate fast, keeping up with his long, loping stride, through the parking lot and to his car. Chloe managed to open the door and get in, but it was Nate who leaned across and clicked her seat belt into place. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. All she could see was Ryder’s body flying through the air like a rag doll, the bull’s hoof connecting with him, the impact as he hit the ground headfirst.
Nate backed out and hit the road, driving fast. She let him take her hand again, squeezing her fingers and bringing her back to reality. This was Ryder’s brother, he should be the one in shock, and instead she was.
“How long will it take us?” she asked, not recognizing her own raspy voice.
He let go of her hand. “I need you to work the GPS,” Nate said. “I know roughly where I’m going but I want it on the screen.”
Chloe leaned forward and took a deep breath. The system was similar to the one in the rental she had, so she quickly found the nearest hospital and programed it in. Then she turned in her seat to face Nate, wiping at her cheeks and under her eyes with the backs of her fingers.
“You’re probably wondering why the hell I’m here,” she murmured.
Nate shrugged. “None of my business.”
“I love him, Nate. I know I walked away from him, but I love him. I came here to tell him that and now…”
Nate took his eyes off the wheel for a second and glared at her, his expression dark. “You’ll get to tell him, you hear me? Don’t even think like that.”
She sucked back a breath. “Okay,” she muttered, staring at the road ahead instead of the man seated beside her. They were different in so many ways, but Nate was so similar to Ryder, too—their smiles, the intensity of their gazes, the way they took charge of a situation, calm yet strong.
“So this is why you hate him riding rodeo, right?” Chloe asked.
She saw Nate’s knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Damn right. A couple of years back one of the top bull riders fell, we were all there, but his hand was stuck in the rope. He flipped forward and they reckon the bull killed him instantly, then threw him around like a featherweight and stomped all over the poor bastard.”
