I nodded and stepped into the lift. Branch pressed a button and the lift doors closed. “I’m going to call my parents. If this doesn’t go how we want, there's other options.”
Yeah, so technically, I was pretty loaded too. Not as loaded as Junior’s family, but not exactly the poor girl on the other side of the tracks either.
The elevator doors opened and a woman stood up from behind a desk. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see the board of the WBRP.”
She took in my face, the bruises around my neck that were highlighted by the gold chain and cross. Sympathy crossed her face. “I see. I’ll let them know you are here, Miss?”
“Everett.”
She nodded and picked up the phone, her eyes flicking between the guys as she spoke softly. Finally she hung up and pointed to a set of large mahogany doors. “You can go in,” she said with her lips, but her eyes were saying “Give those bastards hell.”
I let out a quick huff of air and straightened my shoulders. I was Tessa May Everett and I would not be steamrollered.
I pushed through the doors, and all eyes were on me. Stan Wilfred Senior, Junior’s father, stared daggers at me like I was the devil incarnate. I glared right back.
Burt was sitting at the end of the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up and saw my face, something in his jaw hardened.
“Thanks for coming, Tessa. Please, grab a seat. You too, boys.”
Beau and Frankie sat beside me, but Branch stood at my back. He had my back. Always. Burt looked supremely uncomfortable, and the feeling around the table ranged from sympathetic to outright hostility.
“We, uh, just wanted to touch base with you about yesterday’s… incident. As you know, you are the first woman in the WBRP and we don’t think that the sport, as a whole, could handle allegations of, er, this nature,” Burt said, his ears a fiery red.
“You don’t think the adoring public would be cool with one of your riders trying to rape another rider? Or is this less okay because I put on a vest and hop on a bull? If it had been a barmaid or some buckle bunny that said no, would that have been more okay? More acceptable? Less of a problem?”
“Allegedly,” Stan Wilfred Senior sneered.
I slammed my hands on the conference table. “Not allegedly, asshole. I was there,” I growled. “This is not the face of fucking consent, in case you needed a refresher. But you probably know all about it, right? Probably not the first time you’ve had to clean up Junior’s dirty fucking perversions, you disgusting piece of shit.”
Senior’s face went bright red. “Burt, are you going to let this little whore speak to me like that? Disrespect the Board and the sport like this?”
Burt looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Let's get this back on track. We are terribly, terribly sorry that you got hurt yesterday. I am sure we are all in agreement that if you chose to drop out of this year's competition, we would understand.”
I laughed. “You are fucking insane. I’m not going anywhere because he raised his son like a damn animal, Burt.”
One of the other men around the table spoke up. “That’s fine. It would look bad for us if you dropped out uninjured anyway, especially since your rankings are quite good. However, we would have to insist you sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement.”
I gave the man a sardonic look. “I might get on bulls for a living, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know what NDA stands for. I also know I am not legally obligated to sign one.”
The man’s jaw set. “Then I’m afraid we will have to remove your membership from the WBRP.”
Branch stiffened. “On what grounds?”
“Unbecoming conduct,” the man said. He definitely looked like a lawyer.
I narrowed my eyes. “I guess nearly being raped would be considered unbecoming to you. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that one isn’t going to fly. But feel free to boot Junior for sexual assault.”
“How about fucking half the other riders?” Senior said, and I laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. It was a ‘I am going to jump across this table and stab you in your fucking black heart’ laugh.
“One, you don’t know what the hell you are talking about and it is none of your damn business. Two; I highly doubt that’s in your damn by-laws considering you are misogynistic, homophobic and mostly racist old bastards. I can’t imagine you putting in a clause about rider fraternisation if I’m the first female rider, do you?” I directed that to the lawyer looking guy and he shook his head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
I sighed, all the fight beginning to deflate out of me. “Look, I’m not signing an NDA, but I want what is best for this sport too, and for women who are going to come in after me. Because we are coming, so you better get damn used to it. I won’t say anything-” Burt was nodding and looking relieved, but I wasn’t done. “As long as Junior is blackbanned from the sport. I don’t want to even see his face in the crowd.”
“Done,” Burt said instantly.
“You can’t do that-” Senior blustered.
Burt pointed his finger and cut him off. “Can it, Stan. I can, and I have.” He looked back at me. “What else?”
“You get a separate integrity panel to review the judge's decisions. Because we both know that I could ride perfectly and still fail if some of you get it in your head to see me fail. A panel with no conflicts of interest.” I looked directly at Stan this time.
Burt sighed. “Fine, we were probably due for an audit anyway. Anything else?”
I shook my head. “I just want to ride bulls, Burt. That's all I’ve wanted to do. I didn’t ask for this shit.”
He nodded. “I know, Tessa.”
Stan stood, and I tensed. “She can’t press charges. If she presses charges, it’ll be a damn media circus.” Self-serving dick.
The lawyer dude, who was looking at me with a little more respect, nodded his head sagely. “I agree with Stan on this one. No matter how quiet we try to keep it, if there is a legal battle, it will come out. We will stand no chance of keeping this situation out of the spotlight.”
Stan pulled a sheath of paper out of his briefcase. “This is a contract that states you will not press charges against my son.”
He slid the stack of paper across at me, and I only had to read the word alleged assault for a red haze to come down over my vision. I picked them up and tore them to pieces in front of the whole board. “Fuck you.”
I stood and the guys crowded around me. “You’ll regret any action you take against me, you little bitch,” Stan snarled, and I flipped him the finger.
I looked around at the rest of the Board of Directors. “I hope you can meet God with a clear heart and tell him that this man’s money was worth your immortal damn soul.” I lifted my chin and looked every single one of them in the eye. “Now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have a ride to prepare for.”
With that, I strode out of the room like a damn Queen.
17
The bull riding community is small. Sure, it's spread wide, but it's still pretty close knit. As a result, news traveled like wildfire. If management thought that keeping my mouth shut would quell the news that one of the boys sexually assaulted me, they were crazy. When I walked into the locker room, all sound stopped. Not just the chatter, though I had no doubt that ninety percent of it was about me anyway, but all sound. The whole room just went still and I wanted to run away. Instead, I held my head high, looked out of the corner of my eye to make sure Branch and Dylan were still beside me, then walked over to the lockers. Not the ones near the bathroom doors though. I tried not to look at those doors at all.