“Linc?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
It isn’t an easy thank you. His face is pinched as if it physically pains him to say those two words, and there’s a bite to his voice.
I frown. “For what?”
He shrugs, but doesn’t make eye contact. “Everything, I guess.”
“You guess,” I mutter, running a hand over my jaw. “Dad, don’t say thank you if you don’t mean it. And don’t say it because you think it’s what I want to hear. I don’t expect a damn thing from you.”
“Then why the hell do you keep coming back?”
“Because I want to be better than you,” I shout. “I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying to be better and do better than you and Mom ever did. And maybe…maybe I’m trying to prove Mom wrong.”
Bile rushes up my throat as I remember my mom’s parting words. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Linc. You’ll either be a drunk deadbeat like your father or a whore like me. God bless whatever woman ends up with you.”
Dad’s eyes dart to mine. His face turns beet red, and I see a familiar tick in his jaw. “Get the hell out of my house, boy.”
“Gladly.”
I shut the door between my past and present and curl my hands into tight fists on the front porch. I’m wound tight and ready to brawl, and since Adley’s pussy isn’t readily available for me to relieve some tension, I drive to the only other place that brings me peace.
3
Lincoln
The Barn is exactly that, an oversized, red barn on the outskirts of town. Equipped with a full gym, sparring ring, and bull simulator, The Barn is the go-to place for local bull riders—both professional and wannabe—which also makes it a cesspool of assholes from all walks of life.
Owned by bull-rider-turned-professional-trainer Roy MacElroy, The Barn has been my home away from home for as long as I can remember. When I was young and angry at the world, Roy gave me an outlet. He helped me channel my emotions into something worth fighting for.
Myself.
He taught me that strength isn’t about size by introducing me to my first bull.
Lucy was fifteen hundred pounds of wild muscle. The first time I got the nerve to climb on her back, she tossed me around like a rag doll. I only stayed on for two seconds, but it was long enough for me to fall in love with the sport.
Bull riding is a combination of reaction, reflex, coordination, flexibility, and core strength. Through weight training, cardio, and stretching, Roy taught me how to use my scrawny frame to my advantage—although at six-foot-one, one hundred and ninety-five pounds, no one today would dare call me puny.
With Roy’s guidance and training, and a heavy dose of determination, I made it to the PBR, where I met Adley’s brother, Rhett. He climbed to the top of the ranks, going so far as to win three world championships before getting back together with his high school sweetheart and deciding the life of a professional bull rider wasn’t for him.
While he was closing out his final season, I was being booted out of the PBR lineup, and without the backing of some giant sponsors, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Now, instead of competing against the new wave of arrogant young pricks, I’m helping train them. I shouldn’t complain. It’s a job, and right now I need all the money I can get.
So anyway, while I’m here to blow off steam, I’m also here to work.
I enter The Barn through the back door, rather than the front, a perk of being like a son to the owner.
Roy is standing at the back of the locker room, restocking the shelf with clean towels. “Hey.”
I nod in his direction. “Is Hunter here yet?”
“Yup. He’s out there waiting on ya.”
“Good. I hope he’s ready to get his ass handed to him.”