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The chute opened.

The bull charged out with a vengeance, bucking and twisting his powerful body. But TJ stayed on, his every move perfectly countering the bull’s.

Please, God, Skye prayed as the clock counted up.

Though she barely heard it, George Thorogood’s ‘Bad to the Bone’ boomed through the Equidome. People were on their feet, shouting and cheering as the clock hit five seconds.

When the clock hit seven, Skye found herself on her feet too, shouting and cheering alongside everyone else. And when the buzzer sounded, she jumped up and down like a teenage girl, and then turned and hugged Janey, who was just as riled up.

Ryan, still seated, clapped loudly. But his eyes didn’t leave the arena until TJ dismounted.

TJ landed on his feet, took his hat off his head and pumped it in the air, his shouted ‘Come on!’ travelling to where they sat.

Skye laughed when he turned – looking, she knew, for her. Their eyes met. They both smiled. He took one step towards her – and then everything went wrong.

Dancing Devil caught sight of TJ walking away. The bull tossed his big head, his horn catching the nearest bull fighter and sending the man somersaulting over his neck and shoulders to land on the dirt behind him.

The bull charged.

Skye opened her mouth to warn TJ, to call out, but nothing came.

He saw the look on her face and turned, but not in time.

The bull mowed him down.

TJ’s body vanished beneath the mass of black hide and dust.

Chapter 17

All they were told for the first four hours was: He’s being assessed. We’ll let you know when we know more.

They sat in the waiting room outside the ICU, Janey and Ryan huddled together, alternately holding hands and dozing against one another as the evening passed. Their cell phones rang with alarming frequency, as concerned friends who’d either watched the accident or heard about it called to offer comfort and support, and though they’d both tried to take the first few, after a while, they had stopped answering altogether.

At one point, Ryan took his phone back out. ‘We should call Jules,’ he mumbled, but he just stared at the phone in his hand while Janey battled a sob.

‘Would you like me to do it?’ Skye asked. It wasn’t just a kindness; it was selfish too. She needed something to do, needed something to distract herself from the recurring image of TJ smiling at her right before the bull hit him.

Ryan didn’t even nod, just passed her his unlocked phone, Julia’s contact pulled up on the screen.

Skye took the phone with her around the corner, but the moment she was alone, the shaking started. The image of TJ being carried off on a stretcher, his face covered in blood, his eyes closed, flashed through her mind relentlessly. If TJ had left the arena quicker, if she hadn’t distracted him, if she hadn’t been there at all …

From as early an age as she could remember, Skye had learned one particular skill very well: how to lie and pretend that everything was fine when it really was not. She engaged that skill now. She straightened her spine, forced that stillness she’d learned from her own mother.

And then she dialled the number Ryan had pulled up.

Skye didn’t even know where Julia lived or what she did for a living or if she’d be awake at midnight, but she dialled anyway, held her breath as the phone rang, half hoping TJ’s sister wouldn’t pick up at all.

But she did.

‘Dad.’ Julia laughed. ‘Perfect timing. Luke just woke me up for his midnight feed.’ When Skye didn’t – couldn’t – speak right away, Julia said, ‘Dad? Did you butt dial me again?’

‘Julia?’

‘Ah, yes. Who’s this?’

Skye heard the frown in Julia’s voice, and unsure of where she fit or where she belonged, she just said, ‘I’m a friend of TJ’s – Skye.’

There was a single beat of dread-filled silence. But when she spoke again, Julia didn’t ask what had happened, only, ‘How bad?’