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“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am your announcer for tonight, Rinkmaster. Please find a seating area, making sure to stay out of the crash zone. The crash zone is marked by the yellow caution tape. If you choose to sit near that, you might get a derby girl in your lap, or a skate to the face. A reminder, please drink responsibly and recycle those cans. The biggest beeramid tonight will win a season pass for themselves and one other lucky person.” The announcer continued to chatter, but Aiden’s attention drifted.

  The curtains parted and a few women stepped into the crash zone between the two player benches. No two were dressed alike, though there did seem to be a certain theme in the colors they wore. The first couple eased onto the track, followed by more. They came in twos and threes, trickling out onto the track, whizzing by bent nearly double.

  “We need to sit somewhere.” Tori stood on tiptoe, staring at the milling crowds that hadn’t even registered to Aiden.

  Where was Madison? Helena Destroyer?

  Had she made it to the bout?

  Or had someone gotten to her first?

  He pulled out his phone and flipped to his text messages.

  The last text to her was two hours ago.

  He tapped out a quick message to ease his mind.

  Here. Where r u?

  “Shit,” Roni muttered, and turned toward him, ducking her head.

  “What?” Aiden glanced over her head and his gaze snagged on a tableau he did not like.

  Madison stood on the edge of the roped-off players’ area with a blond man he recognized. She looked—fantastic. Her uniform consisted of a bright pink tank top in some sports fabric with a pinup girl and the words DEADLY DAME arcing over her breasts, a short, pleated black skirt, and fishnet stockings. Her hair was braided into pigtails and her makeup was dark and dramatic.

  Aiden watched the detective place his hand on Madison’s back and lean toward her. Her smile widened, but it was stiff and she cringed when he spoke next to her ear. Aiden wanted to punch the prick’s teeth out. Officer of the law? Twisting her arm? Hitting on her? Harassing her in public?

  Fuck this.

  “Aiden, don’t go over there.” Roni spoke too late.

  Aiden stepped through the crowd and over the caution tape into the crash zone. It was the fastest way to get to her. The derby girls zipped by, some coming within inches of him, but he never wavered from his target. Madison’s gaze darted around nervously, as if looking for an out.

  Well he’d give her one.

  Her gaze landed on him and her brows rose.

  “Hey, babe. Was looking for you.” Aiden pitched his voice over the music and noise from the crowd. The detective straightened and frowned at Aiden when he moved in and draped his arm across Madison’s shoulders. “Not answering your phone?”

  “Sorry, we had our pre-bout meeting.” Madison glanced from Matt to Aiden.

  “That’s fine.” Aiden turned his gaze on the detective, assessing the man like he might be an opponent. Matt Smith was younger than he expected, something of a golden boy appearance. The guy breathed his uniform, no doubt. He couldn’t ooze “cop” more if he rolled around in it. “Who is your friend?”

  “Uh, this is Matt.”

  “Name’s Aiden.”

  They shook hands, Matt’s gaze narrowing. No doubt the detective had heard things. Aiden worked hard to stay off the police radar, but a good detective would hear rumors.

  “Aiden who owns the classic car shop?” Matt asked.

  Bingo.

  “That’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Matt’s tone said otherwise.

  “You know what? I saved you a place to sit, if you want. You need to take the spot or someone else will.” Madison neatly pivoted on her skates to face him.

  “Yeah, show me the way. See you around, Matt.”

  Madison put her helmet on and pushed off, rolling slowly away from Matt. They skirted the growing throng of people setting up lawn chairs outside of the crash zone. About halfway through the turn a tarp was laid out with two coolers on either side.

  “Is that enough space for you guys?” Madison pointed to the tarped-off area.

  “Plenty.” Aiden grabbed Madison’s arm, just below her elbow pad. “He bothering you?”

  “What? Matt?” She shook her head. “No, he’s just being annoying like he always is.”

  “You sure?” Would she tell him otherwise? Did she really trust him?

  Madison paused, studying him.

  “I’m sure. I promise. Matt’s doing what he thinks is right. I just . . . he’s never flirted with me before and it was—weird.”

  “He’s not your type.”

  “Really?” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Really.” Aiden closed the distance between them, leaning down until he could smell her cherry lip balm. “You’re attracted to guys like me.”

  Why was he doing this? It made no sense. He should be pushing her away, not teasing her. And yet, he couldn’t help it. Seeing the cop flirt with the woman he’d had under him last night flipped a primitive switch inside of him. She was his.

  “We sleep together once and you think you know my type?” Her cheeks grew pinker, and it had nothing to do with her makeup.

  “I believe it was three times.”

  “Shut up.” Madison rolled her eyes. “I have to warm up.”

  She neatly slid through the crowd and onto the track, gliding as if she were born for it.

  He shook his head and stepped onto the tarp, motioning for the others to join him.

  “That went well, I take it?” Roni plopped down in her chair, slightly behind him. She’d borrowed Gabriel’s track jacket and had it zipped up to her chin.

  “Now I see why you didn’t want my help the other day.” Julian set his seat next to Aiden’s, probably so Julian could goad him the entire time.

  Bringing the crew was a mistake. He should have slipped in the back, watched the crowd, and waited for her to be done. But the crew hadn’t gone out together in ages, except for racing. And while that was what pumped their blood, he actually liked his garage family.

  A man in a red-tailed coat over sweatpants jogged out onto the center track. “Welcome to tonight’s bouts,” he announced.

  The crowd applauded and several people hoisted beers. The skaters began exiting the track, two teams lining up on the benches, while the remaining two took to the sidelines at the edge of the player area.

  “For those of you new to derby, we’re going to do a quick demonstration. Ladies, volunteers?” Rinkmaster turned toward the benches and bowed, while players took to the track.

  The announcer walked the crowd through the demonstration, with the help of the players. It seemed pretty easy. Four players from each team beat the crap out of each other, and the remaining two scored points for passing opposing players—legally. There was something special about helmet covers, but he was too distracted by Madison—Helena Destroyer—coasting around as part of the demo.

  The crowd stomped on the wooden floor and banged cans together, cheering for the demo girls as they wrapped up the explanation. Aiden watched Julian out of the corner of his eye flinch yet again. Damn. Julian needed a break—or else he was going to break. They didn’t have the luxury of taking time off to regroup. They were always on the job, but Julian more than most needed to decompress, relax a little.

  Rinkmaster led the crowd in a surprisingly good rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner.” Aiden noticed Matt edging closer to the player bench. Was this man for real? Aiden hoped Matt got a fucking clue before Aiden had to do something drastic. The last thing he needed was a cop snooping around. When the song ended and the players not involved in the first bout scattered, Matt was shoved into the crowd, out of the players’ way. It would have to do for now.

  Julian passed him a beer as the first lineup of players took to the track for real. Madison was on the starting line wearing one of the helmet covers with a stripe down the middle. People chanted her name
and a few had posters with her moniker painted on them and violent epitaphs like, CRUSH THE COMPETITION or DESTROY THE JAMMER. The only indication she gave of acknowledging the crowd was a little wave, but other than that, she was all business.

  “You ready for some derby?” Rinkmaster yelled into the microphone.

  The players all hunched over, poised and ready to go. Unlike the demo, he could practically feel the room waiting to exhale.

  “Tonight, the Deadly Dames take on the Butchering Beach Babes. Is this going to be a replay of last season? I don’t know.”

  A referee blasted his whistle and the girls shot forward. There was jostling, girl bumping into girl, and the speed—he hadn’t expected the pack to shoot out quite so fast. A referee blasted twice on his whistle and the two point-scoring players—jammers—flew off the line. They skated low and fast. He didn’t know which to watch, the pack of girls or the jammers.

  Aiden glanced at Lily, the Deadly Dames jammer, eyeing her opponent. The other girl seemed focused on motoring past her. Lily swerved, hitting the other jammer hip first and sending the girl wide out of the second turn and over the boundary line.

  “Oh man! Did you see that? A’thing’a Beauty just knocked Slamstrong out of bounds. Look at her fly.” Rinkmaster kept the audience appraised of the movements from the DJ perch.

  Aiden sat forward, beer forgotten. A’thing’a Beauty, or Lily as he knew her, reached the back of the pack. The players in green formed a solid wall, not letting her pass. He didn’t see a way around that defensive formation. Every time A’thing’a Beauty dodged, they moved with her until their own jammer was right there with her.

  Helena Destroyer—Madison—swooped to the outside, circling around behind the pack and coming alongside her jammer.

  How was that supposed to help?

  “Slamstrong’s making a break for it on the inside—Oh!”

  Another pink blocker swerved, crashing into the green jammer and both girls went tumbling onto the inner track.

  “Slamstrong is down. Sindercella sacrificed herself and is going to the penalty box for that one. Madam Penal will make her sit in the Cage of Shame.”

  Aiden glanced at the cage—which was a real, human-sized cage with two chairs inside of it and a woman who looked a bit like a sexy Darth Vader in a black bathing suit, mask, and cape.

  Back on the track, Madison pushed her way through the green players. Her fellow pink blockers swarmed, jostling and breaking up the line. A’thing’a Beauty kept low and right behind Madison, who plowed away through the pack, all the way to the front.

  “Oh, and Helena Destroyer whips A’thing’a Beauty out of the pack and you have your first—lead—jammer!”

  The crowd went wild as A’thing’a Beauty tapped her hips with both hands. The referees blasted off a couple blows on the whistle and the players relaxed. Quickly, the players on the track exited to the bench and another collection of ten girls took the track—but none of them was Helena Destroyer.

  Aiden relaxed back into his chair and lifted his beer to his lips, except it was empty.

  “We have a trash bag somewhere?” he asked the girls.

  “It’s not my job to pick up your shit. Why didn’t you bring one?” Roni didn’t bother looking at him, her eyes were only for the game. But then again, this was right up her alley. Sexy clothes. Fast action. Little violence. If they didn’t have such an all-consuming mission, he’d bet both twins would be the league’s next recruits.

  “You done with that, mister?” A kid, probably no more than eight or nine years old, had crawled toward him.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Can I have it?” The kid stared at the empty can with greed in his eye.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  The boy lifted his gaze to Aiden’s face and gave him the most pitiful puppy dog stare.

  “Please? I have to get the biggest beeramid. I have to! I want to give my girlfriend a season ticket.”

  Beeramid? Was the kid serious? He couldn’t possibly be old enough for a girlfriend, but what the hell?

  “Okay.” Aiden handed the can over after making sure it was drained of every last drop and watched the kid scurry over to a few adults sitting on the ground, right on the edge of the crash zone.

  He placed eight cans up in a line, and began stacking seven across the top, forming the base of a pyramid. This was a thing? Pyramids of beer cans? Aiden shook his head and settled in to watch the next jam. Madison had explained some of the game, but it had gone right over his head. Now though, he was getting the picture.

  Another jam came and went, and yet a third lineup took the track. The hits the girls were doling out were vicious. A couple had gone tumbling or slammed onto the ground so hard that he was surprised when they popped back up as quickly as they did.

  He scanned the crowd, but the only face he didn’t like was the detective. No sign of the Eleventh or Dustin’s thugs.

  “Roni, what did you find out about our friend?” Aiden asked over his shoulder.

  She sighed and leaned forward. “You want to talk about that now?”

  “I want to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “What’s to tell? He’s a cop, who does coplike shit. There’s nothing dirty about him. He’s squeaky clean and he doesn’t like me. I tried to pick him up at lunch and you’d have thought I was a whore trying to turn a trick the way he laid into me. Then, when I did finally give up, he pulls me over and the way he was talking, I thought he was going to read me my rights.”

  “For what?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  Well great. That’s what they needed. A cop jumping at his shadow and in their way. If Roni couldn’t distract him the old-fashioned way, Aiden might have to figure something else out.

  “Your girlfriend’s back on the track,” Julian said.

  Aiden straightened in his chair and glanced at the kid. He had a full beeramid now, set just inside the crash zone. Smaller beeramids were popping up all along the caution tape.

  The players lined up and he ignored the beeramids. Helena Destroyer wasn’t the pivot this time. She was positioned at the back of the pack, but to him, she still stuck out. It wasn’t just because she was hot. It was the way she held herself. The look in her eye. She had a focused mind-set on this game, and nothing else mattered. Other players eyed her, but Madison ignored them. She was unshakable.

  The whistle blared and they were off, the jammers a second behind them. The pack moved slower this time. Helena Destroyer swept back and forth, keeping one eye behind her. Her team’s jammer closed the distance and slipped through the pack like a fish through water.

  The green jammer was slower. She hit the back of the pack as they completed their first circuit of the track. Helena swerved, and he could see her intent, she was going to hit the jammer hard. The green jammer shifted her whole weight and slammed into Helena first, sending her sailing through the air. She tucked and rolled out of the second turn, almost straight at Aiden, and right into the kid’s beeramid.

  Madison shook her head, no doubt orienting herself, before extracting her skates from the audience and standing. She shook off a can, stepped through the debris, and powered on, building up speed and racing to catch up to her pack.

  Aiden blew out a breath.

  Fuck, derby was one hell of a sport.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Madison was spent. Done. Her body ached. Her lungs were exhausted. Even her eyelashes were calling it quits. Thank goodness the bout was over. Except now all she could think about was everything else.

  Derby did that for her. Gave her an escape. On the track it didn’t matter who she’d been married to, what was going on, or how much money was in her bank account. All anyone cared about was that she hit hard, skated fast, and stayed out of the Cage of Shame. There was more to it, but so long as she did those three, she was doing okay.

  She shouldered her bag and glanced around the curtained-off players’ area. She wouldn’t put it past M
att to flash his badge and sneak back here. Something was up with him. Flirting with her, being at her game, it was weird and she didn’t like it. She stepped outside through a set of side doors into the cool night, hoping to avoid him by taking the back way out. A couple of girls sat on the gravel to one side smoking and a few others sipped beer in a small group a couple yards away, but it was quiet. A sort of haven, where they could come down off the post-game high before joining the party. On the other side, the lot was lit up like daytime, but over here it was dark. She picked her way over the gravel, her eyes adjusting to the lower light.

  “Madison.”

  She started one second and groaned inwardly the next. Feet crunched over gravel, coming closer. So much for sneaking out.

  “Hey, Matt. Enjoy the bout?”

  “Yeah, that was something else. You’re really great out there.” He smiled. At first, that smile had disarmed her. He seemed sweet, but she’d quickly learned it was another tactic of his. “Want me to carry that?” He gestured to her bag.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got it.” Now how did she get rid of him?

  “Haven’t found any more leads on your bike. Did you want to come by the station and see what we found?”

  “No, that’s okay. I didn’t leave anything in it.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  “Oh, no.”

  The pleasant smile faded, and the cop stared back at her, hard and unyielding.

  “Is Aiden DeHart giving you a ride?”

  She opened and closed her mouth, one second from telling Matt to fuck off, but that wouldn’t be very smart.

  “I’m sorry, is something wrong?” she asked.

  Matt took a step toward her, until they were almost touching. She wanted to back up, to put space between them, but he’d probably follow her.

  “I know more than you do about this guy. Madison, he’s not good news. Please, let me protect you.”

  “Protect me?” She suppressed the urge to laugh. The last time he’d tried to protect her, her car became a bonfire.

  “Aiden is dangerous.”

  “I know that. Do you think I’m stupid? Everyone in my life is either dangerous or in danger because of me. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”