Page 49 of Tame Our Wild

They’ll know anyway if I let her ride, considering we need help wrangling the bull back into the pens.

“Paisley, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re supposed to have another week off before you ride again.”

She’s quick to stand, dusting off her hands. “I’m fine, little brother.” I roll my eyes at that. Four damn minutes. “The headaches are gone, and I feel normal. Pleeease,” she begs.

I huff out a breath and stand, wiping the dirt off my hands onto my chaps.

“They’ll know that I let you ride. We’ll get in trouble.”

“And then they’ll realize I’m okay and let me practice again,” she says, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Fine. If they say something, I’ll tell them it was my idea. I’ll take the fall.”

“Aren’t you kind of scared after your concussion?”

She shakes her head defiantly. “Remember what Dad says?”

At the same time, we say, “Fear is something you power through; you don’t let it stop you.”

I always knew my sister had a talent for roping me into trouble as I close the latch, locking the bull in the chute. Paisley fixes her hair, puts on her helmet, and adjusts her glove and riding vest, making sure they are secure.

“We don’t have much time before they are on their way back. Are you ready?” I ask, vaulting the fence to the other side of the chute, where I will release the gate to let Paisley and the bull free.

Something that feels like frayed rope dipped in kerosene tangles in my gut. I should stop her, but she’s right; I would probably be begging her to let me ride, too. I watch as my sister hesitates, staring at the bull with a look I can’t dissect, and discomfort blooms in my stomach. For a second, it almost looks like fear.

I swallow down the anxious feeling as she swings a leg over and starts to settle on the back of the bull. We have to hurry since the bull could start to buck while it is in the chute, and that could be disastrous.

I hold my breath, and Paisley nods. I throw open the gate, releasing the pair as they dance onto the dirt. The bull kicks and bucks, and instantly, I know something is wrong by the way Paisley’s free hand, which is supposed to be in the air, joins the other to grip the bull rope.

She’s hesitating, riding like a statue.

“Paisley, get off,” I yell.

Her scream pierces the air and floods into my ears like acid. My heartbeat booms in my chest, the contact against my ribs increasing the panic.

Time slows. Everything starts to transition into slow motion as she’s flung off, hitting the ground with a thud that is the first bullet to my heart. Paisley cowers, her body curling in the dirt on protective instinct.

I’m running to her, but the next shot has already been fired as the bull’s hooves crash down onto her head and chest before it bucks off to the edge of the arena.

Her name is ripped from my throat—roughly torn from my chest as I dive for my sister. I reach for her body, pulling her onto my lap.

“Paisley,” I cry. “Please be okay.”

She wheezes, the sound broken and tattered in a way that my breath isn’t, despite how hard I’m struggling to calm myself. I should be worried about the rogue bull, but my twin is my priority.

The clanking of the metal fence and the distressed grunts piercing the air have me turning my head to see Cosmos, the horse’s head hanging through the bars, her frantic dark eyes trained on her owner and me.

When I frantically peer back down, Paisley’s eyes flutter behind her helmet, but her irises are vacant—utterly still. Her hands struggle to lift and grasp my forearms secured around her, her fingers pressing into my flesh.

The sounds escaping her have me screaming for my parents.

Even as everyone crowds around and calls for help, I hold onto her with everything I have. I don’t let her go. Not until the paramedics show up and load my barely breathing sister into the ambulance.

That sunny afternoon will forever haunt my soul. But not as much as the scene I was forced to watch, as my legs barreled to get to Paisley curled in the dirt.

It didn’t matter. I was too late, and what was a concussion turned into something worse. Something life-altering that left our dream in the dust as my parents and I tailed the ambulance to the hospital. Even after her surgery, when they said she was stable, I knew our life would never be the same. I lost a lot more than our dream and my parents’ trust that day.

Watching that bull whip and lash with my other half’s body crumpled on the ground beneath its power was the purest form of torture I’ll never recover from.

I blow out a breath, watching the vapor rise.