Page 70 of Leading the Blind
“Yeah, and an eye specialist. Things change in the medical field every day.” Dillon was the eternal optimist.
“Probably have to drive for that,” Bax agreed. “But a good doc can call in X-rays and such on the wrist.”
Coke grinned. “Be good to have, as much as you trip over shit, Andy.”
“Right?” He laughed, but there was a weird look on Jason’s face. A distant sort of thing. He didn’t love it.
He wanted to ask, but not in front of the guys, so he just moved to sit next to Jason taking his hand, and Jason held on.
“Our place, huh,” Jase murmured under his breath.
“Ours, babe.”
“Can I get the honors of starting the movie?” Dillon asked.
“Sure, man. Just pick something good. We got streaming and all the DVDs Momma brought.”
Jason nodded and found the remote, tossing it right to Dillon like the clown was a target. Damn, that was cool.
Dillon gave him one of those weird, meaningful looks. Bax never could figure out what they meant, so he just nodded. Sometimes he waggled his eyebrows. By now he was thinking what to feed them all for supper.
Maybe he’d just do burgers. Jase loved that, and he could play with his grill…
Jason squeezed his hand, so he made himself relax. If he was that tense, Mini could feel it, then Coke and Dill would see it.
The television came on, and he let himself get lost in the movie, the company—and the fact that he was home.
Chapter Nineteen
“You ready to ride this bitch, Jason?” AJ sounded stressed as all get out. “He’s gonna take one big leap out then spin into your hand. He’s a mean bastard, and he throws his head up a lot, so keep your back straight.”
Bax was holding his vest as the bull shifted and moved beneath him. The tension in Bax’s hand vibrated through him. He needed this ride. He needed every ride he could get, but this one had the possibility to make a ninety pointer.
An event win.
He took a deep breath. Then another one. The clock was ticking and he needed to get out of the chute.
“Is he still crouching?”
“He’s waiting to jump.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t have a choice, so he nodded, and the gate opened with a clang. Aje had been right—the bastard damn near went vertical out of the gate, and he bore down, telling himself not to let his body slam forward into the bull’s head.
That would suck.
His wrist ached, but Jason gritted his teeth, ignoring it. He sat up and counted seconds in his head. Three. Four. Kick. Spur.
“Riding you,” he bit out, forcing himself to keep his eyes wide open. “Fucking riding you.”
His free arm stayed up, his chest stayed out, his hips moving—and the buzzer sounded, just about the time his feet blew out the back.
“To your right, Jason!” Dillon screamed in his ear, and he threw himself that way, that big horn grazing his cheek. Jesus.
Jason felt the bull rope wrap around his cast and pull, hard. Suddenly he was flying, dragged in circles, and the best he could do was to keep his feet on the ground, his head in the crook of his arm. “Coke! Nate!”
“Shit!” That came from Coke, and he could hear Nate screaming, “Hey! Hey!” to get the bull’s attention. Coke bounced off him, and there was Fred, the Aussie digging in next to him to shield him from the bull’s horn.
