Page 90 of False Start

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“Six elbows to the ribs, Mayhem. That’s what I mean.”

“And you invited her on the team despite it. So who’s the asshole here?”

I knew who the asshole was and yeah, I was still pissed at myself for fucking that one up, but pride. Fucking pride. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop taking it as soon as you do.”

Her eyes flashed, the look there, I was pretty sure I had pushed her to a new territory. Barely banked fury. “Tell Lilith I hope she feels better.”

“Wait.” I reached for her, but she shook me off.

“You want to come to our practice, you’ve got it,” she said, resting her hand on Lana’s shoulder. “Give me a call at The Shipwreck in the morning and we’ll work out the details.”

Lana and I watched her head for the door. When it slid shut behind her, Lana looked up at me. “You’re great with the ladies.”

“My fucking kryptonite.”

“Does this mean she’s not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck if I know.”

I wasn’t wrong. If it was something she cared about, she was all over it, but when it came to protecting herself, she backed down.

But the way I said it—where I chose to say it, wrong in every conceivable way.

The team was good. Damn good. Every last one of them workhorses who didn’t run their mouths when it was time to get to work. If I could figure out what the hell was going on with Mayhem—what she kept locked up in there—they might even have the chance to be brilliant.

And clue pointed to Tilly.

Tilly, even on her best behavior, would always have power over Mayhem if she didn’t confront whatever history they had. Because right now, Tilly hadn’t done one damn thing on that track to step out of line and it was like that might actually be fucking with Mayhem worse than if she did.

“I think it’s time for the truth, Coach,” Lana said quietly.

“That’s not for me to decide.”

“You’ve been protecting me way too long. It’s costing you too much,” Lana said with a shrug. “Anyway, what can they do with the truth now? Statute of limitations doesn’t really apply here, right?”

“No. But it’s a small town. People will talk.”

“They already do…but not going to lie, Coach…I just don’t care.” She glanced past me and smiled.

A tall, broad-shouldered guy with an easy smile on his face walked over. “I got hung up. Sorry about that.” He squatted down and pulled Lana in for a sound kiss. “Hi,” he murmured to her quietly.

I backed up a step, feeling like an interloper. An old interloper.

“Coach, this is Zach. Zach, my old—uh, former derby coach,” Lana said with a wink like she could read my mind.

I reached out and shook the man’s hand. “Cain Bishop.”

“You’re the guy who’s had my little delinquent’s back.”

“Guilty.”

“Cain Bishop?” the doctor called from the reception desk. “You can go in now.”

Lana took my hand. “Coach? If I come clean, it doesn’t screw you, right?”

“Nah. As you can see, I’m really good at getting myself in trouble all on my own.”

---