Firefly Night

CHAPTER 8

|LEMON ODELL|

    I relished the quiet as I walked through the deserted corridors of the Canyon Ridge Center. It was late evening, competition concluded for the day. Hours ago these corridors had been filled with riders and crew, reporters, stock contractors, and event staff. Hours ago, Colt had handed me his hat, and despite it being a little too big for my head I wore it now.

Tonight I wasn't supposed to be in the arena, but I had forgotten some of Fiets's gear in the shared tack room and I was eager enough to use this as my latest excuse to avoid bar-hopping with the other riders tonight. The idea of spending a night drowning in whiskey and engaging in shallow conversations just didn't sit well with me. Not only would it leave me with a pounding headache tomorrow, but it also meant trouble when it came to working the ranch. Every missed hour of sleep translated to double the exhaustion the next day, and I couldn't afford to slack off. I really, really couldn't. I had an appointment in a few days with the vet to check on the new calfs, and I needed to be sharp and focused.

Finding it with ease I came back out into the corridor, laughter echoed along the walls. Drunk laughter. I set my gear down and followed the corridor to the tunnel leading up to the main arena. Peeking around the tunnel's concrete wall, I spotted Boone and Clive leaning over one of the steel chutes around the edge of the arena floor. They were laughing, their grins wild and eyes gleaming with anticipation as they leaned in. What are they doing?

Suddenly, the air crackled with tension as the metallic clang of the chutes reverberated through the arena. It was like a gunshot, sharp and jarring.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The sound pounded against my eardrums, sending a shiver down my spine. The rhythm was unmistakable. My eyes narrowed as I realized there was a bull in the chute – an angry one from the sound of it.

I crept out, using the stadium seating to hide me from the two men. I fumbled for my phone, not sure who I would call, but I had to stop this before they did something stupid. First I snapped a picture. At least I could prove what I'd seen later if they tried to deny it.

"What are you jackasses doing in here?" The voice came from the far end of the arena, where Colt was striding in. He was older than the other riders, though by far the most attractive of the group.

I frowned. Colt shouldn't even have been here. He had left hours before with Caleb to go to the bars- hadn't he? Boone and Clive looked up. "Langmore, we're just having some fun."

Colt reached the men, and even from across the field I could see the look of disdain clear on his face when he looked at Boone. He took another step and peered into the chute. His brow furrowed, my breath hitched. "Outlaw? Are you insane? What in the seven hells is wrong with you two?"

Boone and Clive shared a furtive look and edged away while Colt dug his phone out of his pocket. As soon as I saw the flash of silver Clive had already snatched away the phone and heaved it into the middle of the dirt-covered arena floor. Colt shook his head and started muttering a string of curses as the pair ran away down the tunnel. I watched as he walked around the chute and easily vaulted over the rail down onto the dirt. Colt quickly reached his phone, half-buried in the dirt in the middle of the arena.

I stood and turned to go find arena security as Colt squatted down to pick up his phone. But suddenly I caught a flash of movement in my peripheral vision.

The chute slammed open.

I didn't hesitate. "Colt! Run!"

I was already vaulting over the railing as Outlaw broke out into the arena 30 feet in front of me.