Jessie’s P.O.V.
“Damn it, Jessie. You could have gotten killed out there,” Willow screamed, the tears flowing from her eyes.
“What? I’m fine. Hell, I didn’t even get a scratch,” I said.
Why is this upsetting her so much?
“Christ, Jessie, you got thrown in the air and trampled. It’s a miracle you are not in a hospital bed,” she yelled.
“Why are you yelling at me? It’s not the first time I’ve got into a nasty wreck. I didn’t even get hurt. Hell, I never get hurt,” I shoot back.
“You’ve been lucky. One day, luck will not save you. That scared the hell out of me,” she said.
“It’s only a hang-up, nothing more. I wanted to give the crowd a little excitement,” I smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.
“It’s not funny, Jessie, and it wasn’t only a hang-up, you ass. That bull threw you 10 f
