Its body wrenched from side to side like Travis was an irritating fly—nothing more. He scrambled on the bull’s back, dragging his hands down the neck, trying to find something to hold on to—anything to keep from being ground into the dirt. God, he thought, the bull’s thick skin sliding away from his grip, please don’t let this happen again. The shaking got stronger and he lost his grip. He was going down, and after that, the pain was just a matter of degrees. He made a new deal with God. Just let June be there when I wake up. He couldn’t face being alone again. The shaking rolled him onto his back. The bull disappeared but the feeling only got stronger—it was centered on his shoulder now. “Travis.” June’s voice was right against him now, her warm hand on his face. “Get up. Now.” With a start, Travis sat up. “What is it? What’s wrong?” June scrambled off the bed, scooping up her clothes.
