The memory rose like smoke—thick, choking, impossible to breathe through.
Celeste and Terry had stood frozen that night, their horror etched against the dust and the glare of the arena lights. Tyler—strong, fearless Tyler—crumpled beneath the weight of Hannibal’s Fury, the bull bred meaner than most men could stomach, a legend in hide and horn. The beast trampled him without mercy, hooves drumming against flesh until the crowd went silent as stone.
The usual roar of the announcer cut off mid-sentence. All that filled the cavernous air was the squeal of the chute gate slamming shut and the keening cry of an eighteen-year-old boy as he was dragged from the dirt, his world already leaving him.
Ryder could still feel the fight in his own body—how he had torn against the arms that held him b
