33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
If today was any example, I’m thinkin’ we’re gonna be seeing a few more familiar Renegade faces in the world of roller derby.
The notorious Richland Killbillies, with the support of none other than our beloved Ms. Minerva, are sponsoring a Littles team.
Derby for the kiddos! And who did yours truly see in the bleachers, bellowing loud enough to shake the rafters?
None other than Shep Landon. But your eagle-eyed girl saw Boh Zacha, Scout Pendleton, Coach Trasier and Dr. McCluskey.
Things sure are getting spicy around here. ~Penni’s Puckleberry Tea
Shep
The Renegades had four whole days off, and, as luck would have it, one of those days corresponded with a Littles roller derby scrimmage.
Hannah stood beside Marek’s daughter, armored up in black and green knee pads, elbow pads—the whole nine yards.
She topped it off with a bright green helmet we’d found online.
I grinned thinking of her squeal when it’d arrived to the loft.
Metal bleachers creaked under my weight in the old Renegades training facility.
The Richland Killbillies had claimed the space, transforming our practice rink into derby central.
Hannah huddled with the other newbies, soaking up wisdom from the big team while familiar faces dotted the bleachers and sidelines.
Zacha played crowd control for his woman, while Marek’s clan claimed territory a few rows over.
Scout manned the entrance with Clyde, passing out godawful pink and neon green rally towels.
My phone buzzed and I leaned to dig the cell out of my back pocket. Hannah’s grandmother. I swiped to accept. “Good morning, Edith. How’s it going?”
“We’re going to have to work on your parenting skills, Shep,” she said, her voice sunny with amusement. “This old woman is in shock, if I’m being honest.”
My spine snapped straight, muscles coiling tight. “Is that right?”
“My granddaughter’s participating in a sport called roller derby today? Google tells me these girls knock each other down for fun. What exactly are you doing with my girl?”
I scrubbed my hand through my hair, knocking off my hat and sending it tumbling between the slats in the bleachers to the floor beneath. “She’s geared up like she’s heading into the Stanley Cup Finals, Edith. And she’s dying to skate.”
“Prove it. Send pictures or I won’t believe a word.”
“Shit—I mean, shoot. Pardon my French, ma’am. But of course! I should’ve been sending pictures already.”
She sighed on the other end of the call. “Relax, Shepherd. Take a breath. For a grown man, you sure are easy to get riled up.”
The tension drained from my shoulders and I barked out a laugh. “You got me good. But yeah, I’ll load you up.”
“Is she moving on from skateboarding to this derby business, you think?”
“Too soon to call, but she’s been talking non-stop about today’s practice all week. We found a frog helmet online and I think it’s her new favorite thing. Not sure how that’s gonna look if she starts carrying the helmet around everywhere like she does the skateboard.”
“Well, I want pictures. She’s been texting, I know she’s excited, but I want pictures. Rule number one of parenting: photograph everything.”
“Yes, ma’am. Prepare for photo overload. I’m gunning for Dad of the Year here.”
Silence stretched so long I pulled back to check the connection. “You there?”
“I’m here,” Edith said then. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life than when I left my girl with you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, but I didn’t sleep for weeks while I made up my mind.”
My gaze locked on Hannah weaving through a line of cones, following the instructor’s lead. “I’m sorry you went through that.” I lowered my voice. “But I’m damn glad you took a chance on me. Thank you for giving me my daughter.”
“Yeah.” Her voice quieted, turned thoughtful, sincere. “You’re doing a good job. I can tell she’s doing okay. Rough start, to be expected, of course. But she’s happier now.” She clicked her tongue before repeating, “You’re doing a good job.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, thoughts banging around in my brain like a Ping-Pong ball.
Gratitude on the tip of my tongue. My chest squeezed tight enough to steal my breath.
Edith hadn’t just given me Hannah. She’d trusted a stranger with her whole world.
Without her leap of faith, I’d have spent my life not knowing my kid existed.
I blinked, fast and furious, and tipped my head back to stare up into the bright lights in the rafters.
“Thank you, Edith. I appreciate your words more than you know.”
“Alright, suck it up, buttercup. The home nurse is here, so I have to run. I’ll be waiting for those pictures!”
The call ended and I focused on capturing every moment.
Hannah’s determined face as she conquered each skill challenge, her triumphant grin when she nailed a stop.
For a second, I toyed with the idea of putting a couple on my Insta, but trashed that idea.
I was proud of my daughter, but some things were just for us.
Cheers erupted from the Littles as Scout and Novy finished their door duties and headed trackside.
But it was Merri who snagged my attention, trailing along in their wake with a lumbering Clyde.
That sunshine yellow crop top, high-waisted shorts hugging her curves—hell, if she didn’t look like she’d stepped right out of the pages of a hot rod, pin-up magazine.
My phone appeared in my hand like magic, capturing the moment before my brain caught up with my fingers.
I wanted to drop down off these bleachers, scoop her up, and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
I pulled in a deep, steadying breath, fisting my hand around the phone and dragged my gaze away.
But I wasn’t the only one to notice the new arrivals.
Some dad sitting in the row above mine was practically drooling, his eyes glued to her like she was the last slice of pecan pie and he didn’t mean to go home empty-handed.
Jealousy, hot and possessive, erupted in my chest. I’d trade my truck to be free to leap off these bleachers, take Merri in my arms, and let these vultures know she was mine. I’d never considered myself territorial, but the instinct to claim my territory sure heated my blood with this woman.
Hannah lit up at the sight of Merri, bouncing and waving like she’d discovered a new best friend. Their conversation drifted away in the arena noise, but my daughter’s smile after Merri walked away lit up the whole damn building.
My chest ached watching them together. The two most important people in my world, and I couldn’t even acknowledge what Merri meant to me. To us.
Crazy how you don’t notice the gaps until someone fills them. Before Hannah, it was all hockey—game, goals, glory. Nothing else got through. I wouldn’t have dared to add a relationship. Didn’t trust commitment.
Now?
Now, I was the one sending pics of my daughter to her grandmother. Chipping away at the walls Merri had built around her heart. Hungry to pull the woman into my circle, to earn the promise of her commitment to a future with me. With us.
Merri turned toward the bleachers then, those emerald eyes locking onto mine. The air crackled between us, desire surged through my veins. Every instinct screamed to go to her, to show everyone she was mine.
But she wasn’t ready. Her career, her future—too much on the line to risk for my selfish need to hold on tighter. So I stayed put, hands clamped around the bleacher edge, grip so tight my fingers burned.
I’d wait. For her, I’d wait forever.
But damn if watching her walk away didn’t feel like taking a slapshot straight to the heart.