The words came out in a rush, almost as fast as her mind was racing, and she turned, reaching over and grabbing her purse. She couldn’t be here. Not with him. Not now… “I can’t take this…”
“Wait!”
“Don’t talk to me!” she said. “I don’t want to hear you try to explain why it’s so important for you to die —”
“I’m not going to die.”
“Yes, you are! I may not have been around long enough to know, but your mom has! And the doctors have! And you know what you’re doing is wrong…” Her breaths were coming fast. “When you come to your senses, then we can talk. But until then…”
She didn’t finish. Instead, flinging her purse over her shoulder, she stormed out of the house and ran to her car. After throwing it in gear, she almost backed into the porch as she turned it around and hit the accelerator hard, barely able to see through the blur of her tears.
Sophia was numb.
Luke had called twice since she returned to the sorority house, but she didn’t answer. She sat in the room, alone, knowing that Marcia was with Brian but somehow missing her nonetheless. Since their argument, Marcia had spent every night at Brian’s, but Sophia suspected it had less to do with Brian than the fact that Marcia felt too ashamed to face her.
She was still angry with Marcia – what she’d done was pretty crappy, and Sophia couldn’t simply pretend it didn’t bother her. A best friend didn’t start dating an ex. Call it a cardinal rule or whatever, but friends just didn’t do that to each other. Ever. But even though part of Sophia thought she should have told Marcia that their friendship was over, she hadn’t been able to say the words, because in her heart she knew that Marcia hadn’t done it on purpose. She hadn’t schemed or plotted or purposely tried to hurt her. Marcia just wasn’t wired that way, and Sophia knew firsthand how charming Brian could be when he put his mind to it. Which, she suspected, he probably had. Because Brian was wired that way. Brian had known exactly what he was doing, and she had no doubt that dating Marcia was his way of trying to get back at her. He wanted to hurt her one last time by destroying her relationship with Marcia.
And then, no doubt, he’d hurt Marcia, too. Marcia would end up learning the hard way what kind of guy Brian actually was. After that, she’d feel even worse than she was probably feeling right now. In a way, it would serve her right, and yet…
But now, Sophia wanted to talk to Marcia. Right now, she really needed her. To talk about Luke. And just to talk, period. Like her sisters were doing downstairs and in the hallway. She could hear the sound of their voices drifting through the door.
She didn’t want to be anywhere near them, though, because even if they said nothing, their expressions were plenty eloquent. Lately, every time she entered the house, the rooms and hallways would go quiet, and she could intuit exactly what each of them was thinking and wondering. How do you think she feels? I hear that she and Marcia never see each other anymore. I feel bad for her. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.
She couldn’t face that right now, and despite everything, she found herself wishing that Marcia were there. Because right now, she was sure she’d never felt more alone.
The hours passed. Outside, the sky slowly filled with wintry clouds, backlit by the silver glow of the moon. As Sophia lay on her bed, she remembered the evenings on which she and Luke had watched the sky. She remembered the horseback rides and making love, the dinners with his mom. She recalled in vivid detail how they’d sat in lawn chairs in the bed of his truck on the first night they met.
Why would he risk dying? As much as she tried, she couldn’t understand it. She knew it was more about his guilt than anything else, but was it worth risking his life? She didn’t think so, and she knew his mother didn’t. But he seemed intent on sacrificing himself anyway. That’s what she couldn’t grasp, and when he called a third time, she still couldn’t bring herself to answer.
It was getting late and the house had slowly but surely begun to quiet. Sophia was exhausted, yet she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. As she tried to make sense of Luke’s self-destructive path, she found herself wondering exactly what had happened on the night he’d first encountered Big Ugly Critter. He’d told her about the plate in his head, but she had the sense now that it had been even worse than that. Slowly, she crawled out of bed, making for the laptop on her desk. With equal parts foreboding and the urge to finally know everything, she typed his name into the search engine.
She wasn’t surprised that there were quite a few listings, including a short bio on Wikipedia. He had, after all, been one of the top-ranked riders in the world. But she wasn’t interested in a biography. Instead, she added the words Big Ugly Critter after his name and pressed the search button.
Instantly, a link to a video on YouTube appeared at the top of the screen. Before she lost her nerve, she pressed the button, watching anxiously as the YouTube screen came up.
The video was just shy of two minutes, and she saw with a sickening feeling that it had been viewed by over half a million people. She wasn’t sure she wanted to watch, but she hit play nonetheless. As soon as it began, it took only a second to recognize Luke in the chute on top of the bull, the camera angled on him from somewhere above, obviously for the television audience. The stands were filled to capacity, and behind the chute there were signs and banners lining the arena wall. Unlike the McLeansville venue, this arena was indoors, which meant it was probably used for everything from basketball games to concerts. Luke wore jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt under a protective vest, along with his hat. The number 16 was embroidered on his vest.
She watched Luke adjust the wrap while other cowboys tried to tighten the rope beneath the bull. He pounded on his fist, then squeezed his legs, adjusting his position again. The announcers talked over the action in heavy twangs.
“Luke Collins has finished third overall in the PBR world standings and is considered one of the best riders in the world, but this is a bull he’s never ridden before.”
“Not many people have, Clint. Big Ugly Critter has only been ridden twice, and he was the PBR World Champion Bucking Bull last year. He’s strong and mean and if Luke can stay on, he’s just about assured of getting a score in the nineties…”
“He’s getting ready…”
By then, Luke had grown strangely still, but the pause lasted only an instant. She watched the gate swing open and heard the roar of the crowd.
The bull came out hard, bucking, his rear legs pistoning into the air, his head pitched low to the ground. He half spun toward the left, kicking hard again, then literally jumped, all four legs coming off the ground, before suddenly beginning to spin in the opposite direction.
By then, four seconds had gone by and Sophia heard the crowd go berserk.
“He’s doing it!” one of the announcers shouted.
It was at that instant that Sophia saw Luke jerk forward, his body off balance, just as the bull’s head exploded backward.
The impact was horrific; Luke’s head rocketed in the opposite direction, as if devoid of any muscle at all…
“Oh, my!”
Luke’s body went suddenly limp as he toppled off the bull, his hand still tethered to the wrap.
But the bull appeared psychotic with rage, an animal out of control, and the bucking continued, fierce and unrelenting. Luke bobbed up and down like a rag doll, whipped in every direction. When the bull began to spin again, Luke followed in sickening motion, his feet skimming the ground like a whirligig.
By then the bullfighters and others had jumped into the ring, trying desperately to free Luke’s grip, but the bull just wouldn’t stop. He stopped spinning and charged at the new intruders, swinging his horns wildly, tossing one of the bullfighters aside as if he were weightless. Another tried and failed to free Luke’s wrist from the wrap; another few seconds passed before a bullfighter was able to jump up and hold on long enough – while running with the bull – to free Luke’s hand.
As soon as it happened, Luke toppled to the dirt and lay on his stomach, his head to the side, unmoving, while the bullfighter scurried away.
“He’s hurt! They gotta get folks in here now!”
And still the bull wouldn’t stop. Instead, as if realizing he was free of his rider but angry that Luke had even attempted to sit astride him in the first place, the bull turned around, oblivious to the others who were trying to distract him. Lowering his head, he charged Luke, gouging his horns at Luke’s prone figure with murderous intent. Two bullfighters jumped in, slapping and hitting, but the bull would not be denied. Instead, he kept swinging his massive horns at Luke’s inert figure, then suddenly lunged forward atop Luke’s body, where he began to buck again.
No, not buck. Trample. And spin. In speechless terror, Sophia heard the announcer shout:
“Get that bull off him!”
Up and down, the enraged bull brought his hooves down with furious impact, crushing Luke beneath him. Smashing down on his back, his legs, his head.
His head…
Five people circled the bull by then, doing everything they could to stop the rampage, but Big Ugly Critter continued his single-minded attack.
Up and down, crushing Luke over and over…
The announcer saying:
“They gotta stop this!”
The bull seemingly possessed…
Until finally – finally! – he moved off of Luke and skittered sideways onto the dirt floor of the arena, still bucking wildly.
The camera followed the bull as he continued to buck away and then zeroed in on Luke’s prone figure, his face bloody and unrecognizable, as others began to attend to him.
But by then, Sophia had covered her face, sobbing in horror and shock.
25
Luke
By Wednesday, Luke’s headache had abated slightly, but he feared he wouldn’t be well enough to compete in Macon, Georgia, over the coming weekend. After that, the next event was in Florence, South Carolina, and he wondered whether he’d be in better condition by then. From there, the tour moved to Texas, and the last thing he wanted was to head into that stretch of the season with a serious physical handicap.
Beyond that, he was beginning to worry about the expenses. Starting in February, the events required that he fly. It meant extra nights at the motels. Extra meals. Rental cars. In the past, when pursuing his dream, he’d viewed it as the cost of doing business. It still was, but now, with the loan repayment set to triple in six months, he’d found himself scouring the Web for the cheapest flights he could find, most of which had to be booked weeks in advance. As best as he could estimate, his winnings from the first event would cover the cost of travel to the next eight events. Which meant, of course, that not a dime would go toward meeting the upcoming loan payments. It wasn’t about winning to chase a dream anymore. It was about winning regularly because he had to.
Even as the thought entered his mind, however, he could hear Sophia’s words, contradicting him. That it wasn’t about the ranch, or even about his mom. That it was all about the guilt he wanted to avoid.
Was he being selfish? Until she’d said it, he’d never even considered the idea. It wasn’t about him. He’d be fine. It was about his mom, her heritage, her survival at an age at which her options were few. He didn’t want to ride. He was doing it because his mom had risked everything to save him, and he owed her. He couldn’t watch her lose everything because of him.
Otherwise he’d feel guilty. Which made it all about him. Or did it?
He’d called Sophia three times on Sunday night, another three times on Monday. Twice on Tuesday. He’d texted, too, once each day, without receiving a response. He remembered how upset she’d been by Brian’s stalking, which kept him from texting or calling on Wednesday. But by Thursday, he could take the silence no longer. He climbed into his truck and drove to Wake Forest, pulling to a stop in front of the sorority house.
Two identically dressed girls were sitting in the porch rockers, one of them talking on the phone, the other texting. Both glanced up briefly, then did a double take when they saw who was walking toward them. As he knocked, he could hear laughter drifting from inside. A moment later, the door was opened by a pretty brunette with two piercings in each ear.
“I’ll tell Sophia you’re here,” was all she said, moving aside to let him in.
Off to the side, three girls sat on the couch, craning their necks to get a glimpse of him. He guessed they were the same girls he’d heard from outside the door, but now they simply gawked at him, the television blaring in the background as he stood in the foyer, feeling out of place.
It was a couple of minutes before Sophia appeared at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed. She stared down at him, clearly debating what to do. Then, sighing, she approached reluctantly. Noticing everyone’s attention, she said nothing to him; instead, she nodded toward the door. Luke followed her out.
She didn’t stop at the porch but walked down the sidewalk out of sight of those in the house before turning to face him.
“What do you want?” she asked, her expression blank.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” Luke said, hands in his pockets. “For not telling you sooner.”
“Okay,” she said.
She added nothing, leaving him unsure what to say next. In the silence that followed, she turned away, studying the house across the street.
“I watched the video of your ride,” she said. “On Big Ugly Critter.”
He kicked at a few pebbles lodged in a crack in the sidewalk, afraid to face her. “Like I said, it was pretty bad.”
She shook her head. “It was more than just pretty bad…” She turned to look at him, searching his face for answers. “I knew it was dangerous, but I never thought that it was a matter of life and death. I guess I didn’t really understand how much you risk every time you step into the ring. And that bull and watching what he did to you. It was trying to kill you…”