Page 107 of Pulled From Both Sides
Joa snorted, blinking long and slow. He was fading, the drugs and the pain taking their toll.
“Stay a little longer. Just a minute.” Joa’s eyes found Raul, him. “Both of you.”
“Shh. We’ll be right here.” They would stay until they moved Joa to a room. Then they would go rest together, and he would tell Raul of his decision.
Raul would not be happy and neither would Ace, but it needed to be done. How could he stay with Sam Bell and leave his belovednamoradobehind to fend on his own?
They stayed until Joa slept, then tiptoed out, shooed by a nurse. Balta’s back throbbed, his kidneys letting him know that so much stress was bad. That and too much coffee.
They were all waiting for him—the bullfighters, the riders, everyone with worried eyes.
“He will be fine. Hurting, but fine.”
Balta saw them all relax, to a man.Sim. They had lost too much in one year. They all needed better news.
Poor Raul, he looked so tired, and Balta found himself wanting to help, to care for his Raul as he would Joa.
“He is sleeping. We should go rest. I will come back tomorrow.”
Raul blinked at him, mouth opening, but Coke broke in. “Y’all go get sleep. I’ll take a turn hanging out, call you if anything changes.”
“You’re sure?”
Coke nodded. “Me and Nattie are playing cards, anyway.”
Balta didn’t point out that, if the clown were here, Dillon would be all frowns. Where was Dillon, anyway? Usually he was in the thick of things…
Raul put a hand on his arm. “That sounds good, Coke. Thank you.”
Listen to that English. Pride swelled in his chest. Raul was coming into his own.Deus, his lovers made him proud. “We’ll go to the hotel, then. Call me. Tell Joa I have my phone.”
“I will. I bet he sleeps hard. This shit’s hard on a body.”
“You should know, huh?” He chuckled. Coke had been injured more than almost anyone but Balta.
“You know it. I’ll call if anything happens, Silva. You have my word.”
And that was good enough for him. He grabbed Joa’s stuff, reminding himself he needed to bring back pajamas and a kit bag. They would give Joa baths, but that never felt as nice as having your own grooming stuff, especially as picky as Joa could be.
They got outside to Joa’s truck, Raul automatically going to the driver’s seat. “Should we get food?” Raul asked.
“Sim. Sim, is there anywhere here open? Anywhere?” Cheyenne was tiny and seemed to roll up the streets at dark.
“That Arby’s might still be open.” Raul had a fondness for the weird, thick meat at Arby’s.
“Let’s do it.” It wasn’t mortadella, but it wasn’t bad.
Raul nodded, heading out toward the drive through. They got sandwiches and curly fries to take back to the hotel, and they were parked before Raul spoke again. “We should fly out of Denver, no? To go to California?”
“You’ll take Joa’s truck,sim? I’m going to rent something bigger to move him.” Balta pondered. “Fly from Denver to LAX, then back and drive to Dallas. We have two weeks off them and we’ll get Joa home.”
Raul turned to stare at him. “You are not coming to California?”
“No. No, I will stay. Joa needs one of us and you could win the season.” It made sense.
Shock colored those bright, light eyes. “Balta. You are in number six right now. You could be in the top five this season.”
He shrugged. “I could. I could get hurt. I will stay in the top twenty whether or not I ride again until the Finals.”
