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. Lashing out in the only way they knew how.
All of us flawed just trying to make our way. Tempering our
