Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

“I’m just doing my job, man. Move.”

“No.”

“Move.”

“Make me.”

The cameraman dodged and weaved. So did Chase.

Chase crowded him, so the only thing the camera picked up was an extreme close up of Chase’s vest. Which forced the cameraman to shuffle back, which is exactly what Chase wanted.

“Let me do my job.”

“Film something else because you’re not getting close to him. I’ll bust that camera into a dozen pieces and throw it and you in the dirt.”

“I’ll see that you’re suspended for this.”

“And I’ll see you’re fined for exploiting the images of a head trauma. But you wouldn’t have as many of these images to splash across the big screen if the PBR stepped up and mandated all riders wear safety helmets.”

The cameraman stopped trying to circumvent Chase and kept the camera trained on him.

“Does a PBR bull rider have to die from head injures on camera in full gory detail before changes are enforced? Haven’t we learned after what happened to Lane Frost? Only after the shock of his death were protective vests made mandatory for bull riders. It makes me sick to think that another bull rider will have to die before we start protecting their heads as well as their hearts.”

“Dirk is a friend of yours?”

“This is not just about Dirk. It’s about all bull riders in all professional rodeo organizations. A few weeks back the world lost a promising young man, a friend of mine, because he wasn’t wearing a helmet. And now he’s…” Chase looked away, fighting the hitch in his voice and squeezing back angry tears. “He’s dead. Would a helmet have made a difference? Without a doubt. But no one made him wear it, so he didn’t. But he sure as hell had the vest on. Didn’t do a damn thing to save his head.”

The stretcher was airborne and the sports medicine team hustled out to scattered applause. Chase jogged after them, ignoring the cameraman’s shouts.

Once they reached the bowels of the arena where no cameras were allowed, Chase swallowed the lump of fear. “How bad?”

“Concussion. Broken nose. Possibly a shattered cheekbone. They’ll know more after he’s admitted and tests are run.”

A garage door rolled up and an ambulance backed in. Chase forced his feet to move as he headed for his truck. The last thing he wanted was to deal with the other riders and the PBR officials about his impromptu speech. Chances were good it’d been cut out of the TV broadcast. But plenty of people had seen it live. And it wouldn’t be the first time his actions ended up on YouTube courtesy of personal video devices.

That made him think of Ava. Everything made him think of her. Christ, he missed that woman. He hated how it ended. So abruptly. With such anger. With such a feeling of betrayal. Although she’d tried to explain, he’d been too irate to listen to her excuses.

Hours later, Chase left the hospital and climbed in his truck. With all that’d gone on, he hadn’t checked his phone since before the event. No messages or calls from Ava. Two from Elroy. Four from Ben. That quickened his pulse. Ben never left a message and he’d left…four? Since seven o’clock tonight?

Midnight in Wyoming. He dialed anyway.

Ben answered on the second ring. “Hey, little bro. Thanks for calling me back.”

“I know it’s late—”

“I figured it would be, with your buddy Dirk getting stomped and your tirade on TV.”

“Shit. They didn’t cut to commercial?”

“Nope. But I’m not calling you to rib you about that. Something has come up and you need to come home right away.”

His heart dropped to his toes. “What happened? Is it Dad? Or Mom?”

Ben sighed. “Both. They asked me to call since you don’t always get back to them after they’ve left a message.

Guilt kicked him in the ass.

“They wanna to talk to us. And they’ve refused to discuss what it is until we’re all in the same room.”

“That’s goddamn cryptic. What could be so important they can’t tell us over the phone?”

“Whatever it is, it came up awful damn quick. No warning, no nothin’.”

“So you and Quinn haven’t been mulling it over a few days and just decided to contact me?” Not that Chase would blame them for holding back because they knew he preferred no contact until a PBR event ended.

“Nope. Look, we all watched you tonight. Heckuva ride. You deserve to be in first place and have a good shot of winning the whole event.” Ben paused. “I’m sure Mom and Dad will understand if you can’t make it.”

What Ben was too kind to say? Mom and Dad will understand because they’re used to you disappointing them.

After hearing the worry in Dirk’s brother’s voice and his promise to get to Wichita as soon as possible, Chase felt the full weight of his choice to keep his family at arm’s length these last few years. If the situation was reversed, and Dirk was making the call to his family, who in his family would hop in the car and drive all night?

Quinn? Yes.

Ben? Yes.

His folks? Absolutely.

And probably any other McKay relation he called.

They were just that way. They might fight like cats and dogs, but when it came down to it, family was everything. And he would do everything to reclaim his place in his family.

“Chase?”

“I’m here. Just figuring the logistics. If I leave now, I can be there by noon tomorrow. Is that early enough?”

“You’re really not gonna compete in the final round and you’re coming home?” Ben said with total shock.

“Hard to believe, but yeah. I’ve realized there are more important things than those eight seconds I spend on the back of a bull. I ain’t gonna be the one who lets Mom and Dad down.”

Ben was very quiet.

“What?”

“You have changed. I’m looking forward to seein’ you. Drive safe.”

Immediately after Chase hung up he called Elroy.

“You’d better not be calling me to bail you outta jail, McKay,” Elroy barked.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine. I’ll keep this brief. I have a family emergency in Wyoming and I’m taking off right now.”

“Wait. Hold on. You’re leaving Wichita? Chase. Did it escape your notice that you’re in first place?”

“No, it didn’t, trust me. But it can’t be helped.”