Maven Voyage skated over and everyone began to introduce themselves, congratulating one another, and tearing about the plays, full of laughter now, the intensity of the bout slowly sliding behind us.
No animosity. No tempers.
We shared something here—misfits and mothers, artists and businesswomen, every walk of life met here on this track, what united us so much stronger than what divided us.
These were the kind of women who didn’t judge how new you were in town, what kind of job you worked, or who you loved. You’d be welcome in their home and at their table. You could pull up your differences and celebrate them together, not let them divide you.
This was exactly what I’d been searching for.
With these derby sisters, the ones on my team and the ones I competed against who understood the passion and sacrifice, I was found.
After the last of us showered, all of us clean and comfortable, we poured the drinks.
“First thing next week, planning session to fund Crossroads on the long term,” Marty said, handing out glasses as she filled them.
“Where’s coach bat-in-his-pants and his sidekick? They should be here celebrating with us,” Rory said.
Eve took a sip of her drink, winced, and dumped more liquor in. “Call them up and get their asses in here.”
“What room is Jackson in?” Sean asked as she plopped on the couch in the open living room section of the suite and grabbed the phone.
“Room 308,” Rory said over their heads as Dixie and Carmen got chatty and loud.
“And Priest?” Sean called out.
“Room 324,” I said as I grabbed a fresh bag of ice from the miniscule freezer.
“Got it. Get ready for some testosterone, ladies, because I’m not taking no for an answer,” Sean said. “I hope they like margaritas...and if they don’t, well, they better just pretend they do.”
“How’s the eye?” Eve asked as she looked me over from multiple angles.
“Could be worse, I didn’t need stitches,” I said, giving Tilly the eye which only made her ass sidle on up and clink her glass to mine.
“The stitches were totally worth the outcome,” she said as she wrapped her arm around me.
“Jackson’s on his way. Priest didn’t answer,” Sean said. “Maisy, you wanna go grab your boy?”
“On it.” I handed my glass to Tilly. “Don’t drink that. I’m coming back for it.”
“Don’t come back too soon,” she said with a wink as she lifted my glass to her lips.
“Hey, I mean it. That one’s mine.” I aimed my finger at her. “I’ll be right back for it.”
I padded down the hall, passing Jackson on the way, giving him a smile and a nod.
“How’s that eye?” he said as he passed me.
“Great. I should look human again in a few days.” I said, turning around, walking backwards as I called out my answer to him.
“Try a few weeks,” he said with a laugh.
“Awesome.” I glanced at the sign at the end of the hall, again, because direction has never been my strong suit, and adjusted my ice pack, my steps slowing as my skin prickled.
The empty sensation of being completely alone filled me.
“You’re being stupid,” I muttered, but when I got to his door, I hesitated and flattened my palm to the cool metal instead.
We had a flight in the morning. Where was he going to go?
I knocked and waited, but there was no movement on the other side.
Sliding my cell from my pocket, I tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail.
A lump of panic lodged in my throat, my stomach dropping to my toes as I leaned against the wall across from his room and I brought up the number for the hotel and asked for Room 324.
“I’m sorry, but the guest in Room 324 checked out.”
My phone clattered to the floor.
My back slid down the wall until my butt hit the floor.
Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest as I struggled to breathe past the ache.
He was gone.
29
We’d been home for a week. We’d done interviews with local TV and the newspapers and a goofy ceremony turning over a big-ass check.
Yes, the numbers were big, but it was the actual check ironically that was big. Obnoxiously so.
Three feet wide to be exact.
We gave them all the tap dancing they wanted after getting their personal guarantee the program would live on for an additional year and we’d have a grace period every year to come up with more funding.
Gee, look at us twisting their arms, when really they had us by the tits. They got money and us doing the work for them. But I didn’t give a shit. I wanted my kids and being able to look into Rylee’s eyes and tell her with absolute certainty we weren’t going anywhere was worth being small-town show ponies for a while.
A win.
And it gave me a focus.
With her worries gone, it took those kids less than sixty seconds to change the topic to Rockabilly’s and the banked track, asking when they were going to see Priest again, if he would skate with them, if maybe he’d teach them how to do roller derby.
Just like that they’d latched on to him even as he let go.
I was trying not to be a bit butt hurt that they didn’t ask us to teach them.
Really, guys?
I’d gone through all the motions in the past one hundred and sixty-eight hours since the last day of the exhibition. Smiled when I was supposed to, put the kids off about Priest by changing the subject, telling them he had to go on a trip—basically lying to them—and when the performance ended, I went to my apartment and cried.
And cried some more.
When I told him he could go and I would wait, I didn’t know I was committing myself
