False StartA Roller Derby Romance
Casey Hagen
Copyright © 2021 by Casey Hagen
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including: photocopying, recording, or by any storage and retrieval methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the address below.
Hagen Novels, LLC
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited By: Editing by Kimberly Dawn
Cover Design: Wildheart Graphics
FALSE START / Casey Hagen. — 1st ed.
For my husband, Jim, who has done everything, literally everything so I could get this book done. I don’t remember the last time I cooked, cleaned, or even knew what was going on outside of my office because he’s there to step in and offer words of encouragement like this gem…
“Get up there and work, you’re my retirement plan.”
And for my work wife, best friend, sounding board, my kick-in-the-ass-when-I-need-it,
best friend April Canavan who never fails me, puts up with my surly disposition, reminds me of a million things that I constantly forget, and is the best damn plotter/co-consipirator I could ask for.
Late nights in my office with nothing but lamplight, drinks, and our funny banter are the best nights!
Contents
A special thank you…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Casey in the wild…
A special thank you…
This series wouldn’t have been possible without the help of a few amazing roller derby players who answered all of my questions…even the weird ones!
Catye (Catastrophe) Jones
Evan (Evanity) Stewart
Danielle (Cookie) Mahoney
Jenn (Jenn-I-Fear) Cooper
And a special thank you to Jenn (Jenn-I-Fear) Cooper for proofreading and editing for accuracy of the sport!
You’ve been amazing…I’ll keep you supplied with all the hardcover books after you helped me make this the best book possible!
1
Sharp and jagged pain speared through my side, making me suck in a hard, deep breath. My teeth dug into my mouthguard as I growled low in my throat. Glancing up at the pack as they skated into position, I met Tilly the Hun’s mean eyes. They crinkled at the corners when they narrowed, not with age, but with spite. The sneer spread over her face, a glimpse of the cold black heart that chugged inside her chest.
Of course the last bout of the season had to be against her team. Why wouldn’t it? We’d go head-to-head, our personal bitter rivalry a living, breathing heartbeat on the track. Each smackdown she delivered trying to gouge the armor of my confidence.
She refused to stop swinging at me.
And no matter how many times she came at me, no matter how hard, I refused to stay down.
Tilly’s calculating smile promised more retribution to be delivered the minute the ref blew the whistle to start the jam.
Retaliation for landing on her turf.
Punishment for being an outsider in her town.
Reckoning for refusing to leave.
Every bout, every blow of the whistle when our skates met the track in the same jam, she played out her need for revenge.
And I showed up front and center for the battle between us that would never be over.
Because in life, and especially in roller derby, when they knock you down, you get back up.
You always get back up.
Pathetic, emotionally bankrupt Tilly had no clue she’d been preparing me for this sport for a decade. She’d been hardening me with brutality to take hit after hit, building my endurance.
Fueling my tenacity, all to her own detriment.
She thought she could scare me away?
Fuck no.
As long as derby existed, she’d have to keep facing me. She’d never have this sport on her terms.
Free from me.
With one last glance over her shoulder, our eyes connected, and I grinned.
The gauntlet dropped with the shrill peel of the referee’s whistle cutting through the air. Pushing off my toe stops, I tapped into the adrenaline, the anger burning low in my belly whenever I saw Tilly’s face—heard her poisonous voice—and lunged forward, looking for a way around or through the pack.
Pockets opened but closed a fraction of a second later as bodies collided, muscles flexed, and determination-laced grunts filled the air.
Tuned into the calls from my blockers, I pushed at barriers, waiting for something to give.
Moving to the outside, I kept my eyes on the inside, looking for space to get through. Throwing my shoulder as though I planned to cut around the outside, pushing the boundaries, I lurched forward and the two blockers in front of me crowded right, keeping their bodies tight together, closing the gap, giving me the opportunity to dart around them in the middle.
The shouts melded together. The cheers of the crowd bled into the calls from my teammates. Sweat trickled into my eyes, the warm sting forcing me to blink.
Bite “N” Switch, their biggest blocker, with her head half turned, always watching and readjusting to thwart my every attempt to break through the pack while trying to propel her own jammer through the chaos, stumbled back after a solid hit from my teammate, Anarch-Eve.
Their showdown left Tilly trapped in the middle.
Away from me.
Despite the gap in front of me, another pocket opened on the inside. With Tilly pinned, I had a shot this time. Adrenaline surged through my veins, my instincts screaming for me to go for it.
I could never resist going for the inside.
Something about that boundary line called
