Marked Clan #2 - Red (8 page)

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Authors: Maurice Lawless

BOOK: Marked Clan #2 - Red
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Justin brought us a couple of beers and pushed his way through so we were leaning against the wall front-and-center. "The bout hasn’t started yet," he said with a grin. "It gets wilder."

I looked around the crowd. Most of the people here were men, but there was a solid gathering of women as well. In the back corner a small stage was set up with instruments for what I guess was a half-time show. How had I never heard of this?

Justin leaned in and pointed out one of the girls making laps. "See that star on her helmet? She’s the jammer. There’s one for each team, and they’re the ones who can score."

"How do they do that?" I asked.

"They lap the members of the other team," he said. "It’s not as easy as it sounds."

I watched the girls circling the track, some of whom looked like they could crack walnuts with their thighs.
Easy
wasn’t the first word that came to mind. I humored him.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because it’s everyone else’s job to keep them from doing it – by whatever means necessary. Blocks, hits, you name it. There are rules, of course, but you might be surprised what’s legal in this game."

A set of men in referee jerseys and whistles skated out, followed by a guy that looked like a cross between Elvis and John Travolta from
Grease
. His worn leather jacket was a showcase of rock band patches, and his hair was slicked back and shiny. He spoke like an old-school radio DJ, complete with a gravelly Wolfman Jack tone.

"Hey there cats and kittens! Are you ready for some derby?"

The crowd erupted behind me with cheers and whistles. Justin was among them. I looked up at him and saw he was smiling ear-to-ear. This wasn’t just a random idea for a date – he was showing me something he really loved.

"Tonight we have a hell of a bout between the Rocket City Roller Girls and a new league that’s just cutting their teeth – The Houston Hell Dolls! These girls are looking to come out swinging, so expect some hard hits tonight!"

The teams gathered in the center of the track and then broke off to line up along a piece of tape on one end. I noted the two girls with stars on their helmets. I looked closer, and noticed that they were actually fabric covers with elastic bands. I asked Justin about it.

"They call them panties," he said. "Pretty appropriate, I think. They trade off who plays jammer a lot so they make it easier than, say, having separate helmets."

A projector was set up on the far end of the skate floor with a timer and scoreboard. As soon as the head ref blew the whistle, the time began and the girls pushed off. Within a few seconds, one girl was already on the ground. She dropped to her knee pads and then popped up like she was on springs. The jammer for the Roller Girls was in the lead by the first turn, and she only gained more distance as the rest of the girls made their way around the track.

She came up on the rear of the pack and her teammates made a hole. She shot through and scored, then made another revolution. The Hell Dolls clustered together and kept her from passing.

They danced back and forth for almost a whole lap, but she couldn’t find a way through. The jammer tapped both hands twice in a chopping motion against her hips, and the referee blew his whistle. Everyone skated back around to the line and reset.

"What just happened?" I asked.

Justin’s eyes never left the game. "The lead jammer can call it off if she’s stuck, or thinks she’s made enough points for that jam. Sometimes they do it to keep the other jammer from getting a chance to score. They all reset and try again."

The bout went on for two more jams, and then one of the Hell Dolls was pulled out of the game for penalties. Their coach called up another player, and the emcee announced her as "Laurie Loveless."

She stood up from the bench and skated to her place at the starting line. Her shoulders were covered in sleeves of tattoos, but that wasn’t odd. Most of the girls had at least some ink on them. I’d have to talk to Connor about advertising at these games. Something else nagged in the back of my brain as I watched her.

The jam was on, and I kept my eyes fixed on the new girl. She kept to the rear of the pack, seemingly biding her time. The jammer for the Roller Girls broke out from the pack again and came around the track. She skated up behind Laurie, and it looked like she would pass her easily on the outside. Just as the jammer pulled up shoulder-to-shoulder with her, Laurie slammed her whole body into the girl and sent her flying out of bounds and onto the floor. The rink went silent for a split-second – just long enough to hear a crack ring out like a gunshot.

"Jesus," I said under my breath. It came out louder than I intended. Justin watched the jammer’s still form on the skate floor. One of the referees skated over to her. There was a brief exchange I couldn’t hear, and the girl rolled over onto her side. She let out an agonized scream and held her right arm, but got back up and skated toward the track. Her teammates were still engaged with the other team on the track, trying to keep back the Hell Dolls’ jammer. They boxed her in, and she wasn’t able to score before time ran out for the jam.

The injured girl handed off her jammer panty to another player and sat down on the bench. One of the refs signaled to someone behind us and a paramedic pushed his way through the crowd. Justin seemed anxious, like he wanted to go out there himself.

I spoke into his ear over the noise. "I don’t like that new player, Laurie."

"I know what you mean," he said. "That was a brutal hit. Much more force than necessary."

"No, no," I said. "I mean, there’s something off about her. The way she moves."

"What are you saying?" he asked.

How could I describe it? That Laurie Loveless moved like a wolf? I sighed. "Never mind, it’s probably nothing."

If ever there was a sport where a wolf could let out their aggression without anyone the wiser, it was roller derby. I watched both teams line up again. This time Laurie was the Hell Dolls’ jammer. She pushed her way through the pack with seemingly no effort, leaving the Roller Girls off balance. They regrouped and prepared for her to come around the second time. This time they crowded together and kept the Hell Dolls from making a hole for her.

Laurie burst into the pack and slinked past one, two, three of the other team’s girls and under the arms of the front of the pack. She was free and clear without so much as a nudge of the hip. Was I the only one here that thought this was odd? She slipped through them like water, changing direction on her skates with fluid precision.

I watched Laurie Loveless for the rest of the bout. The Hell Dolls may have been new, but Laurie kept the scores close with every jam. She sent one girl out of bounds on her back, and twisted another one’s ankle. All of this was done with legal–but brutal—hits.

The first jammer she injured—to her credit—came back and played in the final jam, even though I could tell she was in pain. The Roller Girls banded together and scored enough to tip the bout to their favor, but only just.

Once the final jam was over, Justin looked at me. "I’m really sorry to do this, but I’d like to see how those injured girls are doing. You can come with, if you want."

"No, I’m good," I said. "Go do your doctor thing. I want to mingle with some of these roller girls for a bit. Come get me when you’re done."

Justin nodded, and headed out onto the floor. I threaded my way over to a table where some of the Rocket City girls were selling T-shirts and chatting up the Hell Dolls. For all the ferocity they showed on the track, they laughed and traded war stories like old friends. I approached one of the Rocket City girls who sat off on her own, drinking some water. She was small, almost my size, but solid muscle. Her helmet said "Kat-Aclysm" and was covered in leopard spots.

"Hi," I said. "I’m sorry to bother you, Kat? Have you seen Laurie Loveless around here? I wanted to talk to her about the game."

Kat laughed. "Yeah, you and me both. I want to know where she came from. She’s not a regular for this area, that’s for damned sure."

"I don’t understand," I said.

Kat took off her helmet and wiped her forehead with a towel. Her hair was blonde, done in a pixie-cut. "She’s a ringer. Somebody brought her in, could be from out of state. There are rules about that. Anyway, neither one of us is in luck. She bailed out the back not two or three minutes ago. If you run, you might catch her."

I thanked her and did just that, bursting out the back door to see…nothing. I scanned the parking lot behind the rink, but didn’t see any sign of Laurie. Aside from Slate and Dree, she was the first female wolf I’d encountered recently. She was obviously no victim, which meant only one thing.

"Fuck," I said to no one in particular. "Now I’ll have to start hunting women, too."

Somehow I doubted Justin would object to the idea.

Chapter Fourteen

Justin got called in on our way back to my place after the bout. He called me and apologized.

"I had fun tonight," he said. "I want to see you again. Maybe somewhere less public."

"Promises, promises," I said. "Go play doctor. We’ll talk later."

I didn’t hear anything from him by the next Friday, so I went out alone. I was not the type of girl to sit pining for a phone call. For the first time in a long while, I visited Thermal without the intention of killing someone. Girl’s got to get out once in a while, right? Henry was behind the bar as usual. I sat down and flipped a scarlet curl out of my eyes.

“No one for you yet, PJ,” Henry said. He placed a napkin in front of me. “Having your usual?”

“Nah,” I said. “I’m feeling old fashioned tonight.”

He smiled and pulled out whiskey and bitters. “What has you thinking, my friend?”

“Henry, do you follow your family history?”

Two cherries and a slice of orange took a swim in the whiskey before settling on the bottom. “Of course,” he said. “It is important to know where you come from.”

“See, I think that too. My mom didn’t see it that way. She kept me away from Poppa any chance she could. I think she was ashamed of us for some reason. Maybe that’s why she never took back her name.”

Henry set my drink in front of me. “Perhaps there was more to it than you know.”

“Like what?”

He shook his head, and I saw behind the usual smiling man I knew for a brief second. Had I hit on something personal? Another woman further down the bar waved at him. Before he left, he touched my hand and leaned in, speaking quietly.

“A name has power. It can give you strength, or take it away. An enemy who knows your name is a dangerous one.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
I sipped my drink and looked around the dance floor. A guest DJ was in tonight. Every so often his name and website popped up on the projector. From what I’d heard so far he wasn’t bad.

“Hey there, Red. Buy you a drink?”

I turned to the source of that ever-so-overused pickup line and found him waiting. He didn’t look old enough to buy cigarettes, much less a drink. Any other night, I might have taken him up on it, maybe even given him a dance just to tease him a bit. I wasn’t in the mood. I held up my glass and gave it a shake. “Thanks anyway, stud. I’m good.”

He didn’t get the hint. I felt his sleazy hand press against my back. He’d had plenty already by the smell of him. “Aw, come on—just one. You’re the hottest chick in here.”

“Back off, Romeo,” I said in my best not-fucking-joking tone of voice. “I’m not interested.”

He pulled in closer to me instead, and one hand brushed the underside of my breast. My elbow shot up of its own accord and said hello to his nose. He staggered back and tried to stem the flow of blood. “Muhverthucker.”

I snorted a laugh and leaned against the bar to watch the show. The crowd around the bar parted, and I saw that the bouncer was already on his way over. We shared a nonverbal conversation, and Romeo was tossed out. I finished my drink in peace.

Henry hadn’t stiffed me tonight—my brain floated in a pleasant haze by the end of the glass. I stood carefully and decided to have a dance after all. The music was loud and rhythmic and felt good flowing through me. I flowed with it, into the sea of lithe bodies and roaming hands.

“Mind if I join you?” a voice said. I had my eyes closed, focusing just on the music. I moved away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t.

“A man could get jealous seeing you out here like this,” he said.

“Look, dude. I’ve already decked one guy tonight. Don’t make me bloody you up too—”

I turned and saw Justin, looking all clubby and scrumptious. “Oh fuck.”

He laughed. “I meant it when I said I wanted to see you again. Or was I just a notch in your belt?”

I grabbed his hand and dragged us both through the crowd to a quieter corner of the club. It’s not an easy thing to find at Thermal. “You could have called. Anyway, it’s not like I came here to get laid. I just like to come here to clear my head sometimes.”

“If you’re not interested in going any further, you can tell me,” he said. “I’m a big boy. I just wanted the benefit of getting the Dear John in person.”

Shittershanks. It’s not that, you stupid, pretty man.
“No, I’m interested. I mean, you fuck like a champ and you’re stable. That’s more than I can say for most men I date.”

“I’m pushing you, aren’t I?” he said. “Damn it. This always happens. Faye was right—I always try too hard.”

Who the fuck is Faye?

He kept talking, but something on the dance floor caught my eye—three somethings actually. They moved through the crowd with fluid grace, and they all had eyes for me. These three were more than the bouncers could handle.

“Can we get out of here?” I asked. It wasn’t really up for debate—I snatched Justin’s hand and made a beeline for the door. My trio of tails followed, of course. Once we were out the door I let go of him, pulled off my heels, and ran. I didn’t take the time to see if Justin took my lead.

My car was three blocks away, in the cheapest lot I could find. Old habits die hard. I stole a glance behind me and saw my dashing doctor shadowing me easily. A block behind him, three more shadows closed in fast. I felt for the single epi pen between my shoulder blades. I couldn’t take down the whole pack with just one. Did I remember to put the new ones in my car?

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