Someone scoffed and I snapped my head up to look at the team. “Problem?”
“Yeah,” Eve said. “We have the same twenty-four hours in a day that you do. Not all of us are here on vacation. Between our jobs and practice and sleep, you expect us to read it all in twenty-four hours. It’s not enough time.”
“Make the time or don’t walk back through that door.”
“What the fuck?” she bit back.
“You need my help, not the other way around. If you want it, you’re going to do it my way.”
“Bullsh—”
I pinned her to the spot with a hard look that cut off her words. “You’re all here to save Crossroads, right?”
Mayhem stepped out and turned to them. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes sure as hell had plenty to say judging by the way they looked around at one another, their chins dipped low, before giving me reluctant nods.
“You have twenty-eight days,” I said after Mayhem stepped back into the line. “That’s it. Twenty-eight days to learn the same skills as teams who have been doing this for a decade. You’ll either do it my way, or you can walk out that door. Anyone can be replaced.”
A few of them shifted on their skates and glanced at one another; a couple others started to roll their eyes, but seemed to think better of it, and Eve looked like she was ready to set me on fire.
Bastard status reached.
But a few emerged as quiet forces, their cool heads grounding forces for the attitudes on the team.
Not surprising, Mayhem was one of them. Hazy Eights for sure since she’d never once let what she was thinking cross her face and the jury was still out, but probably Hot West. With her serious, wide-eyed expression, she was either dedicated or terrified.
I could work with either. So, I had three out of fourteen with me.
Swell.
“Okay—first, the main differences between flat track and banked track that you’ll learn in the RCDL—jams are only sixty seconds. Penalties are served during the following jam. And lead jammer status changes.” I met Mayhem’s eyes. “Being the first jammer out of the pack guarantees you nothing.”
I waited for it, for some hint of attitude, but her lips—lips I’d been kissing not so long ago—only twitched with amusement.
Good.
My girl was up for the challenge.
I froze.
Not mine. She can’t be mine. Christ.
“Day one will follow the abbreviated game format you’ll find in section 2.2 of the RCDL. Two quarters. Quick elimination rounds. Think sprints, not marathons. You either have it, or you don’t. Let’s make sure you have it.” I tossed the notes on the bench. “Get on the bank. I want fifty laps.”
They strapped on their helmets, slid their mouthguards over their teeth, and headed for the jam line on the track. Just watching them get on the bank told me a hell of a lot I needed to know from the onset, just by how comfortable they were climbing on, getting into position, and taking off.
Almost all of them hesitated at the coping where the track dropped off an inch and a half or so along the bottom edge.
Well, they could avoid it now, but they’d be getting to know it really well in about fifteen minutes.
Watching them settle in and take off, I’d bet half or more of them had been skaters for years, a hefty portion of them probably having spent a bunch of time at skate parks.
If I was right, it would be a hell of a start. Better than I expected, but still so far to go.
By ten laps in, I spotted a few smiles out there.
The first time flying around those corners, there was nothing like it.
Enjoy it, ladies…once banked track gets inside you, you never get it out.
Their strides lengthened and with each lap, they naturally started to curl their shoulders in and lean into the inside of the track.
Their feet synced next until about halfway through their laps they skated tight and fast, their legs and feet moving together like an orchestrated performance.
I studied each of them and made notes on the roster of players Mayhem brought with her. Made sure I had their names straight since the one time I’d watched them, I’d been focused on one of them in particular.
The one I wanted to be focused on now.
That hungry look came into her eyes again, but this time clean and inhibited by hurt and anger. Her gaze turned into laser sharp focus on the track before her. Everything narrowing down to the bodies surrounding her and the goal ahead.
I just had to harness it. Make that determination impenetrable.
I had to stack her against her biggest weakness.
And she might just hate me for it.
By the time they reached fifty laps, I rolled over and skated the infield along with them while they slowed to a coast. They crept closer to the coping, but none of them crossed just yet.
I skated backwards and kept their pace. “Don’t let it get in your head. Just stagger your feet and roll right off the coping. You’re all going to get really familiar with that part of the track, especially you, Mayhem, since you can’t resist the inside. You’re not out of play until you touch the infield so you can use it to your advantage.”
One by one they rolled off the track. A wobble here, arms thrown out there, a little squeak, but everyone stayed upright.
Upright was good.
“Good, now get back on, climb to the top, and skate down and over the coping a hundred more times.”
MAISY
“Hey, Mayhem,” Rory said as she climbed up the bank for the eighty-third time. “Your coach is a real asshole, you know that? Fuck.”
“It’s for
