Prologue: Andrew

I’d been waiting years to hear the crowd calling my name. There was a rush that came with it I couldn’t find anywhere else. An addiction I couldn’t break. The desire for a hit was growing by the second.

Beneath me, the horse whinnied with anticipation, and I adjusted my grip on the rigging one final time. This mare was a feisty one, but I was ready for the challenge.

With a last look at the crew, giving them the go-ahead, I took my position. The buzzer sounded, the gate opened, and I held on for dear life.

Arm free. Spurs in and up. Lean back .

The horse changed directions on the front end, moving all across the makeshift arena. I won this event in the last three competitions, but this bronco was giving me a run for my money.

The eight-second ride felt more like eight minutes as the horse bucked beneath my body. The pain from holding onto the strap radiated throughout my shoulder and back, but I fought through it.

Finally, I felt the brush of a pickup man as he grabbed the flank strap, and I leaned up. The combination of the two kept the horse from continuing to buck, and once we were closer to the gate, I dismounted.

The crowd cheered as I waited for my score. There were no announcers here. It was all an underground rodeo that offered cash prizes, and that was that. And the people who judged were usually past competitors.

Politics were always involved, like every sport, but I’d kept my identity hidden long enough that most people called me a shadow. I came and went as I pleased, only showing up when the date worked for me. It left me admired, feared, and commended.

The other riders offered me “congratulations” and “great ride” as I shook off my neck guard and removed my hat. The wet strands of my hair brushed against my eyelids, and I reached up and pushed them away from my face. Women clamored along the makeshift fence of chicken wire and wooden stakes, shouting my name, and I sent them a quick grin before turning my attention back to the two men sitting in folding chairs atop wooden pallets.

After deliberation, a call boy shouted out, “Eighty-six point four,” as my score. Leader of the board. I ducked away from the fanfare and headed toward the stalls. That’s where I felt most at home, amongst the scent of hay and horses. It was something I loved, reminding me of my family’s farm.

Which was why they found me leaning against the railing of a trailer as I rubbed the nose of the horse I’d ridden. She was a sweet thing, based on the way she devoured the sugar cubes I kept tucked away in my jacket.

“Wyatt Renfield?” the teen called out as he stepped into the dimly lit area.

“That’s me,” I replied.

“Oh, here, sir. Your winnings,” the boy said with a tremor to his voice.

Extending my hand, I took the three rolls of cash and tucked them into the interior pocket of my jacket. “Thanks, kid.”

“That was a great ride, sir. You’re my favorite to watch. Even more than the professionals on TV.”

It was a backhanded compliment I received enough times that it no longer rubbed me wrong. I understood the praise, and I’d been offered the option of going pro more times than I could count, but I knew this wasn’t the life for me. Not just because I had an actual job working for my family, but because if something happened to me, it would devastate my mother.

Reaching into the pocket, I pulled out the first bill I could pull from the wad of cash and handed it to the kid.

“Wow. Do you… do you think I could get your signature?”

“Sure, kid.”

He immediately pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his back pocket and held them out for me. When I finished, he left with big, dazed eyes.

I remember that age, my head full of dreams and desires. Then life stepped in and made it clear that the path you yearned for was farther out of reach than the next closest galaxy.

With my winnings in hand, I made my way back to my truck and set my GPS to return to Ashfield, Tennessee. The ten-hour drive was going to be a brutal one with the way my back was already aching, but I had obligations the next day. Ones I couldn’t break with my sisters.

There was a wedding to attend.