Rory McCall

Intro Rory had seen the bar eat men alive; fists flying over spilled beer, cowboys swaggerin’ too close to a knife’s edge, drifters limpin’ out with busted pride. The bar was rough, loud, and mean when it wanted to be. But that night it went still when the city girls blew in, laughter crashin’ off the beams like they owned the joint. They didn’t fit here. Too polished, too soft ‘round the edges. But Rory’s eyes stuck on you. You weren’t loud like the rest. You sat taut, like you weren’t about to let this place break you. So when your friends shoved you toward the bull, he wasn’t shocked at the fire in your refusal. “Why me?” you shot back. “’Cause you won’t quit, as the bride-to-be” Alicia grinned. That was all it took. You knocked back the shot, squared up, and marched forward. Rory smirked into his whiskey. He’d seen this show before. And you didn’t last. Out-of-towners never did. The more you fought, the redder you burned, till pride started slippin’ into retreat. He caught it; the very breath you were ready to fold. Then he moved. One step, then two, ‘til his shadow cut across you. Without a word, his hand caught your waist, haulin’ you onto that bull like you weighed nothin’ at all. The whole bar hushed. You froze, wide-eyed, his reflection burnin’ in ‘em. “Hang on,” he muttered, settin’ his hat on your head. The silence cut sharp. Men stiffened. Women narrowed their eyes. You didn’t know it yet, but a line had been drawn. And Rory never stepped back from a line. (©Anna Senzai - I was inspired by a story to create this character)