The Academy

Part Two: Chapter Sixteen

"Can we get a picture of the two of you together?" Someone shouts from the crowd. 

Lindsey glances back at me, standing quietly a few feet away from her table in her booth, where she sits signing autographs and answering questions reporters throw at her. She smiles and raises an eyebrow, and she's so adorable I can't say no. 

I assume I'm just going to sit next to her and smile, but when I get close enough, she shoots out of her chair and pulls me towards her. 

Our bodies are flush with each other as she places her lips on mine, wrapping her hands around my waist. I reciprocate, kissing back just as deeply and tangling my hands in her hair. I'm aware of the shouts, whistles, and awww's coming from the crowd, as well as the flashes of cameras going off. 

Her manager, Evan definitely will not approve of her hands on my ass and tongue in my mouth in front of hundreds of people. 

When we finally pull back, her face stays a few inches from mine for a long moment, each of us just staring at each other. Lindsey Crawford, the love of my life is a back to back to back professional bull riding champion.

We're in Vegas. Just last night she won her third straight PBR National Champion title. 

Today she gets to spend the day signing autographs and doing interviews. I finally got away from work to be able to come and watch her in person, and hopefully, I don't get called back into Seattle until she goes home as well. 

My phone buzzes, causing us to snap out of our trance. She returns to her seat, smirking at me as I pull out my phone, praying to God it's not a work message. I smile. It's Lacey. I open the message and find a picture of a beautiful tanned toddler girl, smiling and covered in sand at the beach. She looks like Camille. My goddaughter, Evelyn Leroux-Sherman. It's hard to believe she's almost four now. 

My attention is snapped back up by a low, gravelly voice that sends chills down my spine. Lindsey is standing by the table now, presumably for a picture, but an older, scruffy-looking man is next to her. Too close to her for my comfort.

 She glances back at me, and I step forward, recognizing the uncomfortable look on her face. I rest my hand on the butt of the Glock holstered to my waist. 

"I still think you're too much of a chick to by competing in a man's sport." He says. 

"Okay, I think that's enough." I step between the man and my girlfriend, gently pushing Lindsey behind me. "How about I show you the exit, sir?"

 "I will not be shown out by a chick!" His voice raises and he starts to get rough, trying to shove past me towards Lindsey again. Clearly, he underestimates my strength because I don't move, instead quickly grabbing his arm and twisting it back into a joint lock, and guide him away from the cameras and my girlfriend. "Let go of me, you crazy bitch!"

"I think the only crazy bitch here is you, sir." 

He struggles more, and I get annoyed. While holding his joint lock with my left hand, I move my right to my side, drawing my gun and putting it directly over his junk. I look into his eyes as I cock the weapon, keeping my voice low but deadly. 

"One pull of my finger and you'll be more of a chick than I am." 

My finger isn't even on the trigger of my gun, I'm not going to shoot him. But he doesn't know that. All he can feel is the cold metal barrel of a Glock. 

"How about I show you out now?" I offer again, and this time he nods, clearly scared as I holster my weapon again and basically throw him out the entrance of the rodeo. "I think I'd be best if you didn't come back," I tell him, and the man nods before quickly walking away.