False Start: A Roller Derby Romance (Beautifully Brutal Book 1)

by Casey Hagen

  Instead, she psyched him out, dropped back a few inches, just enough to kill his forward momentum and get him going in the opposite direction. She tore ass back to the top and passed while his mouth hung open and he slid back down the hill.

  Without paying attention.

  You know, to the rest of us.

  His teammates.

  His friends.

  The shit.

  Skates tangled, arms flew, legs kicked out to the side before flipping over in the air.

  One of the fuckers caught my edge, knocking me over onto the heap where I took an elbow to my solar plexus, knocking the fucking breath right out of me.

  Through the haze of sweat running into my eyes, I spotted Mayhem skating away with her team in tow, their eyes on us, their laughs echoing through the barn.

  “My balls,” Linc groaned, from somewhere under the pile. “Why do I feel air on my balls?”

  They all started squirming under me then, the word balls like finding out someone just took a piss in the hot tub.

  “Why is there air on my balls?” His frantic shouts more erratic, his eyes wide—well, the one I could see from where it peeked through the crease of a knee and calf folded over his face.

  I rolled off the pile and pushed up to my feet. “Fuck you and the air on your balls, Linc. I fucking told you to wear a cup, you dumbass.”

  “Hey, Linc,” Dom piped up from the other side of the pile. “Why in the absolute fuck do I feel your balls on my hand?”

  They scrambled to stand, but failed miserably as they drove knees into guts, elbows into necks while they scrambled for a grip with their skates, their hysteria rising every time someone said “balls.”

  “Get your fucking balls off my hand, Linc!” Dom’s voice raised about two octaves. “Holy shit, man, I just felt them twitch. Get the fuck off me.”

  “And this guy thought his abuela coming at him with a flip-flop was bad,” I joked with Remy as I gave him a hand up. “Kind of hard to put muscle rub in his underwear when the dude’s freeballing it.”

  “You probably shouldn’t talk,” Rory said, skating past before rolling into the infield.

  Remy looked at me and held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. If you don’t mind, Parker’s mouth looks like it could use my tongue,” Remy said before skating away.

  I caught a glimpse of Mayhem handing a helmet to Lana as Linc and Parker tossed insults back and forth, my scrimmage quickly turning to absolute shit.

  Rory rolled up to Lana next, handing her a pair of wristguards and elbow pads, followed by Sean with knee pads.

  What the hell?

  In under a minute, they had Lana geared up with Mayhem on one side and Marty on the other as they rolled her to the track and stopped with her just behind the jam line.

  The rest of the team piled on, all taking blocking positions.

  Lana gave Zach a thumbs-up and he blew the whistle.

  Mayhem and Marty pushed off, their legs flexing as they thrusted Lena forward right along with them. The blockers shifted, gaps opened and closed, as they propelled around the track, giving Lana the closest thing they could to a banked track derby jam for a woman who could no longer use her legs.

  I sucked in a breath and held it. Watching Mayhem laugh, not caring how much exertion she had to put in to not just rolling Lana around the track, but sending her up and back down again.

  The pack shifted again, and Mayhem and Marty guided Lana through, breaking away, taking her low into the corner, and high along the straightaway, propelling her around the back, the sound of their laughter drifting away at their retreating backs and growing louder again when they turned the last corner and rolled toward us.

  Yeah, I was definitely in love.

  So damn in love with her the air sucked straight out of my lungs when she winked at me.

  The truth of that, of the consequences—the decisions that came with the realization—would all have to wait.

  And still, she’d never said my name.

  26

  The crowd at Banked Track went wall to wall. Our entire team, Priest’s friends, Lana and Zach, they all followed us into town for dinner and drinks. Instead of giving us menus, Patti had the kitchen keep our table full of wings, sliders, fried haddock, and baskets upon baskets of fries and onion rings with pitchers of beer to wash it all down.

  Our players let loose in a way we hadn’t been able to—well, ever actually.

  For the first time we were all together. Everyone made the time, got babysitters, took vacation days, traded shifts, anything they had to do to be here. Marty and Rory made sure to pin Tilly in the center of the booth in case she got any ideas, but so far, she laughed along with them, the smile finally chasing away that wariness in her eyes.

  Patti hopped behind the bar, keeping Milton and Gerald in beers and laughs; I guess kind of the way I did with them in the morning with decaf and tough love.

  I’d always wanted to be Patti when I grew up.

  Halfway there.

  Now to work on more of those laughs.

  Priest’s cop friends drew in a bunch of other officers from Galloway Bay and even Sheriff Chase brought in his nephew, Maverick. They stood in a cluster by the bar, giving me a few minutes to watch Priest.

  Animated in a way I’d never seen him, the bonds he still had here, the ones he didn’t speak about, they rippled in the grins, laughs, the flow of conversation, and the body language as the guys circled in, a tight unit, the kind of bond that you would walk away from for a month, a year, or even a decade and slide right back into the minute you came back.

  But also, the kind of bond that could stand with you through anything if you stayed…as long as you let them.

  That’s all I wanted…for him to let them.

  Even if it meant for whatever reason, he didn’t choose me to stay for.

  “Did you talk him into staying yet?” Lana asked, nudging me as she popped a French fry in her mouth.

  Elbows on the table, I turned and propped my hand on my fist. “Does anyone have the power to do that?”

  She pointed a fry at me. “If anyone can, it’s you. He loves you, you know.”

  “Yeah? How do you know?”

  She pointed at her beer, then at the Game of Thrones T-shirt stretched across her boobs with the words, “I drink and I know things.”

  I chuckled. “You’re going to have to do better than that, but hey, impressive rack.”

  “I know, right? They look pretty great in this T-shirt.”

  “They look even better out of it,” Zack said quietly beside her before taking a sip of beer.

  “You keep saying sweet nothings like that and I might just say yes next time,” Lana said as she leaned into him and nuzzled his neck.

  “Say yes? Wait—did you propose?”

  He stroked his fingers over Lana’s hair and leaned in. “Three times.”

  This time I was the one nudging with elbows. “What are you waiting for?”

  Lana sighed, her smile slipping. “To deserve it.”

  “Oh, Lana. You and Priest are just hell-bent on self-torture. Don’t waste time…sometimes the supply runs short.”

  And the end came with no warning.

  The loss that once sliced at me had waned over the years, becoming this dull ache filled with regret. More than anything, I wished my mom could see that I was okay.

  It’d been bumpy for a while—I glanced up then to find Priest watching me, that turbulent look in his eyes, his past not quite done with him yet—was definitely going to be bumpy again soon, but I might have just found a place for myself here with these people.

  My co-conspirators, teammates, and best friends. The kids we nurtured. The little old men who brought their feisty belligerence to my counter every morning, but always left me with a piece of wisdom. Patti, the way she had paved the way for me to stay here. Stepping in to encourage me but also ready to call me on my shit. Even the gossips. They were looking for something too. Running from hard truths. La
shing out in the only way they knew how.

  All of us flawed just trying to make our way. Tempering our pride while we stoked our passions.

  Or I’d just had my limit in the beer department.

  “I’m almost there,” Lana said, wiping her hand on a napkin before reaching out and taking mine. “Thank you for what you did today on the track. I didn’t know how much I missed it. I never really thought I could have it again, but you gave it to me.”

  I laid my hand over hers and squeezed. “Anytime you want to fly around that track, I’m your girl.”

  Her lips twitched and she shot a glance over at Priest. “Well, then we better do something about keeping our boy in town, don’t you think? After all, it’s his track.”

  “If he loves me like you say he does, maybe he’ll stay.” I’d told myself not to hope, not to set myself up for disappointment, but hope or not, there was no denying that his leaving would leave a lasting mark on my heart.

  “Oh, honey…that’s not the way he works. Because he loves you, he won’t. He put himself under the microscope again—for you. This town isn’t always loud, but the subtle judgments, the whispers—they scream louder than my mother in that ER.”

  I knew those stares and whispers well, but for me, they were pitying glances. First for having a mother who didn’t give me what they considered stability and then because I had no mother at all. “I don’t know, she was pretty loud. Not as loud as that finger of hers, but—”

  “And you threatened to fuck her up which was rather magnificent.”

  I twirled my glass in my hands and winced. “I’m not proud of that.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would be, but you don’t know what you did for me when you did it.” She tipped back her glass of beer, more than half full, and didn’t stop gulping until the glass ran dry. “It’s the final push I needed.”

  “What does that mean?” I said, a tingle rolling over my skin at the determination in her eyes.

  Lana glanced down at her phone, the color slowly eking from her pink cheeks. “Actually, I might need one more small push. Zach, would you get me something with an octane rating?”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got it,” he said, already halfway to his feet.

  The skin stood up on my arms. “I feel like I missed something. What are you up to?”

  Lana rubbed her hands together. “You’ll see.”

  That warm fuzzy feeling I had before slipped away. I glanced around at my team as they compared injuries both past and present, their laughter on my one side while life flipped on its damn head on my other.

  Caught between the clashing of moods, and definite impending doom, I looked for Priest. As my eyes settled on him, he turned as though he could feel my stare.

  His smile shifted from good-natured to shared secrets and my stomach fluttered at the compelling shift from polite to potent. Energy crackled between us across the divide, sending a shiver right up my spine.

  The same kind he delivered with the touch of his hands. The connection between us only getting stronger.

  “Your drink,” Zach said, setting the glass in front of Lana. He brushed his lips over hers and the girl practically swayed out of her chair. “You sure you want to do this?” he whispered.

  “Yup.”

  “Do what, Lana?” I asked, following her eyes as they shot to the door, right as it shut behind a couple who’d just walked in.

  Lana’s parents.

  “You know what, I need to be standing for this,” she said, gulping back a good bit of the liquor in her glass.

  I glanced at Zach. “Ummm—”

  “Relax,” Lana said, waving a hand between us. “I know I can’t stand. Just get me up on the bar,” Lana demanded, drawing looks from the team and a few of the patrons scattered around the room.

  “What did she just say?” Sean asked.

  Lana laughed as Zach swept her up in his arms. “It’s story time.”

  “Is she okay?” Zara asked.

  “Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking that,” Rory said.

  Lana smacked her thighs. “My legs don’t work, but the liver is tip-top. Now get me on that bar.”

  “Lana, honey, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Patti asked, tossing her bar towel over her shoulder as Zach scooted her onto the gleaming wood.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Lana said despite Patti’s warning look. “I just need to borrow this section right here for a minute, maybe two.”

  “I do mind, dammit.”

  “Yeah, but you love me. This will just take a sec,” Lana promised as she nudged Milton’s glass. “You don’t mind moving down a scooch, do ya?”

  “Sure, it’s the least I can do if you’re going to provide some entertainment,” Milton said, raising his glass.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Lana’s mother squeaked, her widened eyes slowly narrowing to angry slits. “Get down off there.”

  Lana raised her glass, and her voice, ignoring her mother’s demands. “I’m not even going to waste my time introducing everybody. My mom has probably been in all y’alls business here more than once. And if she hasn’t, stick around, she’ll eventually probe your orifices too.”

  Her mother’s face turned red with anger. She sucked in a breath, puffing out her generous chest. “Young lady—”

  “My dad will let her, of course, because he doesn’t say shit. Just lets my mother railroad over everybody. Me, him, Priest.”

  The energy in the room shifted and popped. Priest straightened, his mouth a thin hard line.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Gerald asked as he leaned across Milton, earning a swat from his longtime rival.

  “I’m great!” Lana said as she took another sip of her drink and slammed the glass down, liquor sloshing over the side.

  Priest approached her and took her hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, but I do. I have a life waiting for me and I want it. And you have something waiting for you too, but you won’t reach for it. Maybe after this you’ll find a way.”

  “Lana—”

  “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I love you, but no.”

  “If you don’t get off that bar—” her mother began, but she cut her off and pretended she never even spoke.

  “So…a little story…” Lana started, plunging the bar into absolute silence other than the Stevie Nicks song playing in the background.

  “There was this young girl, smart, funny, a bit of a wiseass…and she had a favorite movie…Whip It. God, it sounds so cliché now,” Lana said, picking up her glass to take another sip. “Something even the best whiskey clearly can’t shake.”

  “You get down from there right now; you’re embarrassing yourself.” Fists clenched, Lana’s mother stomped her foot.

  I almost felt sorry for the woman. To be reduced to foot stomping when your kid decided “the fuck with your bullshit” and decided to finally give you as good as she got had to be a solid eight on the humiliation scale.

  Lana’s gaze snapped to her mother’s, a flash of temper breaking free. “Ahhh, let’s unpack what you just said. First, can’t really get down…my legs don’t work,” Lana said, staring down at them and I’d swear she was trying to make them move, the subtle hurt on her face stabbing straight into my heart.

  “Second, young lady implies that I’m still a child. I’m not. I may be your child, but I’m fully grown and make my own decisions. Like Zach…he’s a decision I made. Zach, this is my mother, Marsha and my father, David. Marsha and David.” She hiccupped and giggled. “This is my boyfriend Zach.”

  “We raised you better than—”

  “No, you didn’t,” Lana snapped. “Now as for that embarrassment you’re so worried about. You’re only worried I’m going to embarrass you. And you’re right. I am.”

  Patti let out a low whistle, but the look of pride on her face was unmistakable.

  “Anyh
oo…Whip It. Trite. I know. Not much of an accurate depiction of roller derby, but it’s the spirit of the game that I fell in love with and my parents hated the idea of it. Especially my mother.” Lana leaned against Zach. “She wanted me to play tennis. I mean, really? But hey, I was already a difficult sell for them. I hated dresses, didn’t like hanging out with girls, dolls—forget about it. I liked jokes, pranks, and sometimes, I liked to see just how much I could get away with.”

  When Lana’s mother went to speak, Patti shut her down with a hard glare. “You just hush.”

  “Actually, Zach, you should know, I still do like to see how much I can get away with, which might be why I haven’t taken that ring yet.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “God, I know—you really should, you know.”

  He stepped up between her legs then, wrapped his arms around her, and tipped his head back. “Nope.”

  Lana glared even as she cupped his cheeks. “I can’t walk down the aisle.”

  “Don’t care,” he said with a firm shake of his head.

  “You’ll have to deal with low counters forever,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged. “Still not convincing me.”

  “You’d be stuck taking care of me for the rest of your life,” she said, her voice breaking on the words as she blinked back tears.

  He curled his hand around her neck, pulled her in, and gave her a soft, sound kiss, so full of confident love and passion, I couldn’t turn away.

  “You act like that’s a hardship,” he said, his eyes on hers when he pulled back.

  “But I don’t want that for you.” Her words pushed at him even as her fingers twisted into his shirt and held him there with her.

  Oh, Lana…he’s giving you everything. Take it.

  “You don’t want me to have everything I want?” Zach said, catching her in a trap of her own making.

  “I might have had too much to drink for this conversation,” Lana said as she straightened.

  “Cop out,” he said, moving to her side, his hand staying on her thigh. “Now finish your story so we can have this battle in private where it’s so much easier to make up.”

  “Where was I?” she asked.

  “Seeing what you could get away with,” he tossed out, looking her parents in the eye. The way he looked at them, his shoulders straight and confident, his gaze unwavering, spoke volumes as to the lengths he would go to for Lana.