Page 108 of Pulled From Both Sides
“But—”
“Let’s go inside.” He said it gently, but used a tone that brooked no argument. “I need some privacy with you.”
Raul didn’t understand, but he was still hungry, still young and fresh and eager to reach for the ripe fruit. Him? He’d eatenhis fill, again and again. He was a legend. He was Balta Silva. No one could erase that.
Putting his feet down hard, Raul stomped to the hotel room carrying the food and letting Balta get the drinks. The set of those wide shoulders told Balta he was in for a fight, and he almost looked forward to it.
They could use it, just to clear the air and let them both rest.
Raul set the bags down before turning on him, rattling at him in their mother tongue. “This is stupid, Balta. You can’t just throw away a good season. I love Joa, you know that, but he doesn’t need you to coddle him when we can both afford to fly to events. We’d only leave him a couple of days at a time!”
“He needs us right now, needs me. Don’t you think he’d stay with me?”
Raul’s cheeks went red. “Of course I do. But?—”
“So you feel guilty. But you do not need to. I am old, Raul, at least for bull-riding. I have won my seasons. You go win yours now and I will take care of Joa. He needs me.” He winked, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, without me, you have a chance to win. With me so high in the rankings, it would never happen.”
Raul’s face darkened into a scowl now. “You telling me I’m not good enough to beat you?”
“Nao.” Balta rolled his eyes. The young ones, they never understood politics. “I’m telling you that a three-time champion is much better for selling tickets than a new Brazilian who barely speaks English, even if he did win Rookie of the Year. I would get better draws, get better times in the performances. I would pull ahead. I have seen this.”
Raul’s fingers curled into fists. “And Joa?”
“Joa is pretty and he rides when he rides and doesn’t when he doesn’t.” Joa would never win a championship. Never. “You have the hunger, Raul. The skill. You will win, and if you’re likeme, which I think you are, you will win again. You need to play their game, though.”
“So you will send me off alone.”
Balta frowned. “You are never alone,gato. Never. Eduardo will ride with you and Silvano will pull your rope. When Joa is well enough to travel we will come to events and you will win for us.”
Raul stared at him. “And if was me that was hurt?”
“Then Joa would stay with you and I would ride.” Simple as that. Joa was not the rider that Raul was, or him. It was the truth and Joa knew this. Joa wanted to stay on the tour so they could be together, not because he loved the game.
Raul’s lips parted, then pressed together in a hard line. “You—do you even care?”
“About what?” Balta asked, surprised at the tone Raul used.
“I don’t— Anything!”
“Who told me to be practical earlier? To stop being maudlin?”
Raul stared at him, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and Balta had to smile.
“See? This is why you will ride. You are starving for it. This is good. Hot. Right. I like to see it.”
“You confuse me, Balta.” Raul sighed. “I suppose I should expect it. You collected me for Joa, not you.”
Ah. Balta chuckled now, understanding what Raul was so upset about. Joa, well, he was their balance. With him taken out of the picture with this injury, Raul had no idea what to do.
Balta would show him.
“Do not laugh at me, Silva!” Raul snapped, shoving him in the chest. He couldn’t help but notice that the blow was guaranteed not to move him too much, not to hurt his back.
“I have to. You think I don’t care about you, Raul? That I would not do what’s best for you?” When Raul reached out toshove him again, Balta grabbed Raul’s wrist, yanking him close, their chests banging together. “You are just as much mine as he is, Raul.”
“You…”
“Me,” he agreed. “You are mine. My champion. My equal.Meu lindo.” He refused to look away, staring into Raul’s soul. “You think I lie?”
