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

by Casey Hagen

  “Just think, after tonight you won’t have to worry about me anymore,” she tossed out with just enough sass to assure me we at least had a couple minutes.

  “I’ll always worry about you.”

  All four kerosene heaters fired right up. Luckily our practice ran short, so we hadn’t used up the bulk of the fuel yet. In about fifteen minutes, it’d be toasty warm in here.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to have to do this,” she said, her voice breaking on a whimper.

  “It’s okay, I’m trained.”

  “There’s no training to prepare a brother to see their sister like this.”

  “I’ll tell you what, if it makes you feel better, you don’t have to look me in the eye for six months.”

  “Deal,” she said with a bit of a squeak before biting her lip.

  Mayhem hauled the sled clean into the barn piled with three blankets, six towels, and my bag. “Here. Now what can I do?” she said, breathing heavy.

  “Coach my sister.” I grabbed the bag first, grabbing everything I needed to sanitize my hands before sliding on gloves.

  “On it.”

  “I need to push,” she groaned, her hips sliding to the edge of the chair.

  I put a hand on her thigh to stop her as Mayhem wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brushed her hair back from her face.

  “Not yet,” I said, doing everything I could to keep my voice calm.

  “Cain…”

  “Lilith, blow through it. Deep breath in and big exhale. Remember what they taught you.”

  She breathed in, blew it out, Mayhem speaking quietly to her, repeating my words, while watching me pull out the umbilical cord clamp and bulb syringe.

  “This is so not fair. Jordan’s not here. I’m not ready. I didn’t get to experience the first stages of labor, and now my son is going to be born in an old dairy barn.”

  “But just think,” I said, smiling at her. “It’s going to make one hell of a story. Grandma and Grandpa would love this.”

  I laid out the quilt next, still folded in quarters to give her extra cushion. “Okay, we’re going to ease you down right in the center. You ready?”

  She hesitated. “It’s Grandma’s quilt.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “She made it with her own two hands.”

  “Even better.”

  “It’ll get ruined.”

  She was right, but that didn’t matter right now. “Lilith, get on the blanket.”

  She glared, but did as I told her, something I’d pay dearly for later, but as long as we got through this, she could yell at me all she wanted. “Mayhem, I’m going to need you to scoot in behind her and help support her back and shoulders.”

  “Okay,” she said as she moved in and bracketed Lilith with her knees.

  I popped off her shoes, removed her damp leggings, and draped a towel over her to keep her warm. “I’m just going to check you to see where we’re at.”

  “I can’t hate this more,” she said on a pain-laced groan.

  “It’s okay, just open for me. A little bit more. Okay, that’s good.”

  She bowed up a second later, her jaw tight as she sucked in a breath and held it.

  “Don’t hold your breath, Lil. When you hold your breath your body naturally pushes and we’re not ready just yet, okay? Just let it out.”

  “I’ll breathe with you, okay?” Mayhem said doing just that and giving my sister a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great,” Mayhem said, taking her hand, my sister latching on and squeezing until Mayhem’s turned red with the force.

  I lifted the towel and spotted my nephew’s dark hair, telling me we were a whole lot farther along than I thought. “How long were you out here, Lil?”

  “Twenty minutes maybe,” she said on a gasp. “Why?”

  “Just checking. He’s anxious to get here. I can see his head. I’m ready so when you feel the urge to push, I want you to take in a deep breath and bear down for ten seconds, okay?”

  She glanced up at Mayhem and back at me. “This is not how I saw this going.”

  “Same, Lil. Same. But we’ve got this. You and me, right?” She was becoming a mother right before my eyes, but when I looked at her, I still saw that young, resilient girl. “Always. Now come on. You’re strong, you’ve got this.”

  Mayhem murmured to her, a smile on her lips despite the worry in her eyes. She asked Lilith about names, if they were going to baptize him, which parent they hoped he looked like—all the happy things, naturally steering Lilith away from all the ways this could go wrong.

  When Lilith bowed up again, Mayhem immediately spoke into Lilith’s ear, a thread of calm in her voice, reminding her what she needed to do.

  The woman took to every situation and stepped in doing what needed to be done with grace and dedication. No whining. No bitching. No hysterics.

  Present, calming, and solid. Ready to dig in and work.

  Just like my grandma.

  My grandmother would have adored her.

  “That’s good. His head is almost out. One more big breath and push.”

  She followed Mayhem’s every quiet direction, the two of them in sync, pushing through the fear and pain.

  “That’s it, his head is out.” I suctioned out his nose and mouth and dropped the bulb syringe on the pad in the sled before cupping his head gently. “Okay, listen to your body, it knows what to too. When you’re ready, give me another push.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  Thank God.

  Lilith bared down, his one shoulder sliding out.

  “Good, now one more, Lil. Give it everything this time.”

  Lights flashed through the trees.

  Bearing down again, Lilith let out a sharp cry as he slid out with her final push, his slippery little body sliding right into my hands.

  Lilith’s heavy breathing echoed in the barn, slowly, ever so slowly her breaths stretching out.

  Silence.

  I rubbed over him with a towel.

  He didn’t cry.

  Mayhem glanced up at me, a stricken look on her face as her eyes filled with tears.

  My heart pounded in my ears as I turned him over on my arm and vigorously rubbed up and down his spine. “Come on, buddy.”

  “He’s not crying,” Lilith said with a sob. “Why isn’t he crying?”

  This would not happen to him.

  No. No. No. Dammit, no!

  “Come on, little guy,” I whispered.

  The seconds ticked off in my head as I started focusing on the narrow window we had to get oxygen in him.

  Thump, thump, thump…my heartbeat pounding edge of panic in my head.

  He stiffened in my arms, his little chest expanding before he let out a furious, shaking wail.

  Relief seared through me as I kept my eyes on his angry little face.

  “That’s it,” I murmured as I clamped his umbilical cord and bundled him in a towel. I wiped him a few more times with the edge of the terrycloth as he screamed, the best damn sound I’d ever heard.

  The ambulance rolled into the driveway right as I laid him in Lilith’s arms. “You did it, Mama.”

  “Oh, he’s beautiful,” she whispered with tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran her fingertip along the inside of his palm, and he responded right away by curling his wrinkled fist around her, holding on tight. “We did it. Thank you.”

  The EMTs rolled in with a gurney and in just a few minutes had Lilith and the baby on their way down the hill.

  “You should go with her,” Mayhem said, watching them take Lilith to the ambulance.

  “Are you sure?” The tears had dried and the paleness in her cheeks had been chased away by splotches of pink.

  “She’s had a hard night. She needs you.”

  “Thank you.” There was so much I wanted to say, but no time so I kissed her. Took one more taste of her to take with me and handed her my keys. “So you’re not stuck.”

  She slipped them f
rom my fingers and gave me a small shove. “Now, go.”

  Lights cut across the windows just after midnight. I peeked out from behind the curtain and spotted Priest looking at his truck before glancing at the house and looking at his truck again.

  I probably should have left.

  I planned to. I mean, he gave me the keys to a vehicle with real heat, but then I’d gone up to the barn and gotten everything cleaned up, turned off the heaters, and talked to his grandmother.

  It sounded crazy and obviously she didn’t talk back, but for a few minutes, energy simmered in that barn. Maybe because the banked track had been reborn; maybe because Lilith brought her son into the world there; I didn’t know, but I couldn’t walk away.

  These people made him…the man I loved, and I’d swear they wanted him home just as much as I wanted him to stay.

  Just as much as he wanted to, but didn’t think he deserved to.

  When I finally shut off the lights and headed for the house, I worked on salvaging the beautiful mosaic quilt first. While the laundry ran, I explored the downstairs, evidence of his grandparents’ pictures on the wall—their age told in the yellowing at the corners—puzzle boxes worn from repeated use, and the thick magnifying glass lying on top of a stack of crossword puzzle books.

  Touches of familiar comfort neither Priest or Lilith seemed too eager to pack away.

  The house wrapped around me like a hug and I gave in to the comfort of something lasting. I turned on the lamp important to Priest and snuggled into the easy chair for a while with a curled paperback of Lonesome Dove I slipped from the bookshelf.

  I pretended the house was mine.

  This family was mine.

  My heart aching with the realization that Priest had a few battles to face before he found his way back for good—to this farm and me.

  Mama, give me patience for this one. He’s worth it.

  He stepped through the door, that quiet intensity so much a part of him back in his eyes. “You stayed.”

  “I did for a bit. When do you have to go back?”

  “I don’t. Jordan’s home. He called me to give me a heads-up that he planned to surprise Lilith and she surprised him instead.”

  “How’s the baby?”

  A proud smile curled his lips and my heart rolled over in my chest.

  “He’s perfect.”

  The weight lifted when Lana revealed her secret and threw him into chaos, only to be settled when we found his sister in trouble and needing him. Stabilizing him even in the storm because in that moment he had a purpose.

  A protector. A caretaker. A coach.

  Always giving.

  How would he handle receiving?

  “Does this mean you’ll go to Philly now?” My heart kicked in my chest while I waited for his answer.

  For a yes.

  His eyes narrowed and he nodded. “I’ll go to Philly now.”

  Relief slid through me and I took a deep breath, not realizing I’d been holding in my last. But with Jordan home, his nephew delivered, and Jackson coaching us at the exhibition, he had nothing keeping him here.

  He’d be back to spiraling.

  Back to running.

  And this time, him knowing what this town meant to me, there’d be no taking my hand before he ran.

  I just hoped when he finally let go and walked away, he’d found enough here that he had no choice but to lay old ghosts to rest and come back.

  “I—I cleaned up the barn and the good news is, the quilt survived. It’s hanging up in the laundry room. I didn’t dare put it in the dryer.”

  “You cleaned up?” he said, his voice low as he took a step toward me.

  “Well, yes. I didn’t want you to come home and have to worry about it after all you went through tonight so I—what are you doing?” I asked as he took another slow step toward me.

  Stalking me.

  With an unreadable look on his face.

  “You stayed here and took care of everything while I was gone so I didn’t have to come home and do it?”

  “Yes. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “To you,” he said quietly.

  He took another step.

  Energy snapped in the air between us.

  “It’s just laundry,” I said before rolling my lips between my teeth.

  He stopped within inches of me, his gaze flicking to my mouth before meeting my eyes again. “You didn’t just do the dishes. Cleaning up from childbirth is a lot more than just laundry.”

  “I—why are you being weird?”

  He took another step, backing me up until I bumped against the counter. “No one takes care of me.”

  I tipped my head back and cupped his cheek, finally noticing the stubble on his ordinarily clean-shaven face. “Have you ever let them?”

  His eyes closed and he tilted his face into my hand. “I don’t know how,” he rasped.

  “Cain…” I whispered, trying out his name, his real name for the first time.

  He shuddered at the sound, another barrier collapsing between us.

  “Maisy,” he said, his lips just inches from mine.

  “What do you need?” I whispered as I ran my thumb over his bottom lip.

  “Stay.” He traced my lips with his tongue until I shivered and gasped—then slanted his mouth over mine, his kiss slow and deep.

  Tongue gliding against mine, his hands curling around the back of my neck pulling me under him, his ragged intake of breath, and the desperation in the sound detonating in my blood.

  My skin turned to fire, my breasts grew heavy, and with every lap of his tongue against mine, I throbbed…wet and wanting. When our mouths broke apart, I swayed with the force of letting go, our chests heaving, our connection beating with a life of its own in the intimate space between us.

  With my eyes locked on his, I peeled my tank top over my head, offering what we both needed for what may be our last time.

  He only had one commitment left now that I put him on the spot for the exhibition.

  After that, he’d have to deal with his demons—and despite all the ways I could help him—that was one reality he’d have to face alone.

  He dipped his fingers in between my breasts and tugged me to him, his warm brown eyes roaming over my skin, flaring with heat and need.

  Reaching behind me, the movement pushing my breasts against his chest and making his nostrils flare, I flicked the clasp and began to drag the straps down my arms.

  With a growl from low in his throat, he only let me make it halfway before he plundered, his hot mouth sucking my tight nipple between his lips.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he yanked me against him, his hands cupping my ass as he lifted me up until my legs wrapped around his waist—his mouth on me the entire time. Heavy footsteps echoed in the quiet house as he carried me through the living room, never once faltering as he feasted on my skin.

  His foot made contact with the bottom stair and his gaze flicked to the wall, to the picture there of two young boys, smiling, together—safe.

  “Can you guess which one I am?” he asked, his voice thick.

  “I don’t need to guess,” I murmured, pressing my cheek to his as I looked at the image. “I’d know that boy on the right anywhere.”

  He went still and turned to me. “No one could ever tell us apart.”

  I slid my hand into his hair and met his eyes—the confusion there in the taut lines of his pale, haunted face.

  His vulnerability stripped bare…something he’d rail against for sure the minute he realized he exposed it to me.

  “I see you, Cain.” I whispered the words over his lips as I dotted his chin, the corner of his mouth, and that dimple in his cheek with soothing kisses. “And when you finally see yourself…I’ll be here. Waiting for you to let me love you.”

  His eyes flashed and swirled—almost crazed with hunger—a starving man afraid to reach for the offering.

  I gave him permission to go and my heart broke with it, the ache
in my chest taking my breath away. I gave him everything he needed to walk away without guilt, without fear of who he’d hurt when he finally did.

  I offered him every last bit of security he and I both hungered—longed for—the security we never dared ask for from the people we trusted to take care of us—from the parents who betrayed us.

  My mother in hundreds of little ways.

  His father in a devastating blow when Cain was at his most defenseless.

  Those were our false starts.

  But there’d be no penalty for the wounds inflicted by the people we trusted.

  And I would be strong enough for the both of us until he caught up. I’d honor everything he did for me, for the chances he took by laying everything I had on that track in two days.

  And then—well, we’d see.

  “Don’t think—just feel,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You can doubt this all in the morning, but right now—let me love you.”

  Arms tightening around me, he nodded. His body trembled under my hands, his body curled into mine, and he continued up the stairs.

  Our clothes in rumpled piles on the floor, with Cain lying flat on his back staring up at me, his gaze blazing a trail his fingertips followed seconds later, I rose over him.

  The minute I started to take him in, inch by steely inch, he shot up, his arms banding around me, his hands in my hair, his hot gaze never leaving mine.

  Holding on to me in every possible way, even as he was letting me go.

  Our bodies moved together, our hands roaming over one another, our sighs turning to moans, our fingers tightening as each roll of our hips increased our urgency—propelling us toward goodbye.

  The moment he let go, his body tight, his release a low, guttural groan vibrating from deep in his chest, the broken boy he’d been showed himself in the single tear that slid from the corner of his eye right before he buried his face in my neck and retreated into the shadows again.

  28

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m nervous enough to poop. You think that would be a penalty?” Rory asked as we watched the teams prep for the first round of elimination bouts.

  “I don’t recall seeing poop in the rule book,” Marty said.