“Fine.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No. It’s fine. See?” She pointed to her weak left knee before going back to towel-drying her hair. Thankfully, the swelling hadn’t started yet, although it would swell. It always did after a game.

“Put some ice on it anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t yeah, yeah, yeah me. Just do as I tell you.” Jai checked her clipboard. “I gotta go. I’ve got some artery repair to deal with. I swear”—she shook her head and held her clipboard to her chest—“Novikov is so mean. Got a guy bleeding out in surgery.”

Cella stood up straight, flipping her hair off her face. “Then maybe you should ... you know ... take care of him?”

Jai rolled her eyes. “He’s just a coyote.”

“Jai!” God, the mountain lions ... such bigots when it came to the canines, especially the coyotes and wolves.

“I’m going, I’m going. Had to check on you first, right?”

“Cella!” someone called out. “Your dad is outside. Along with some polar bear. Said they’re waiting for you.”

“Tell them I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Polar bear?” Jai asked, still letting that coyote bleed out in her surgery.

“Yeah. He’s that guy I woke up naked with at MacDermot’s house.”

The other females stopped dressing and focused on Cella.

“I didn’t fuck him,” Cella added. Then she grinned. “At least not yet.”

“Oh, that’s classy,” Jai chastised.

“Man. Bleeding. Needs surgery.”

Jai sighed. “Well, if you’re going to get pushy about it ...”

Cella shook her head and grabbed her cell phone from inside her locker. She speed-dialed her daughter’s number and waited for the brat to answer.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Hey, baby. You all right?” She made sure to check in on Meghan after every game. Although, she didn’t know why she bothered. The kid always seemed so put out.

“I’m fine.” Then Cella mouthed along with her daughter’s next word, “Studying.”

Of course, she was. “Well, I shouldn’t be too late tonight.”

“And that affects me how?”

“Could you at least pretend to care if I come home? Would it kill you?”

“It’s not that I don’t care. I’m just at the college library with Josie. It’s open late. Uncle Tommy’s picking us up when we’re done and then Josie and I are spending the night at Aunt Kathleen’s.”

“Why?”

“Babysitting some cousins. Now, did you kill anyone tonight or did you allow them all to make it out alive?”

“No, smart-ass. I didn’t kill anyone.” With the phone caught between her raised shoulder and ear, Cella pulled on a pair of panties and then a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Then just your usual mayhem?”

“Can’t disappoint the fans.” She reached for a bra. “Hey, I was thinking—”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Okay. Finish.”

“I thought we could go and get a mani-pedi and our hair—”

“No.”

“Again, you didn’t let me finish and why not?”

“I’ve got too much to do.”

“You’re seventeen, not forty working for a Fortune 500 company. Get over yourself.” Cella tugged her bra until it fit perfectly, then said, “I don’t know where you got this haughty, superior, ‘I’m better than everyone’ attitude you’ve draped yourself in but ...” Cella’s words faded away when she realized that her female teammates were hysterically laughing at her.

“You don’t know?” one sow bellowed over all the laughter. “How could you not know?”

“Anything else, Ma, or can I leave you to the comedy stylings of your teammates?” Smug and ungrateful. That was the kid Cella had been cursed with.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Cella disconnected the call and roared at her teammates, but that only made them laugh harder.

“So when are you coming to the Island to meet the rest of the family?”

Crush froze. He wanted to scream, “Never!” But he knew that would be a bad idea. They were now in the hallway outside the locker rooms and it was packed with family and friends of the Carnivores and word seemed to have already spread that he was, somehow, the boyfriend of Bare Knuckles. A player he considered kind of reprehensible since she seemed to fight more than skate.

“Uhhhh ... that’s up to your daughter?”

“Well, make it soon.” Nice Guy gave a small shrug. “Trust me on this.”

Not sure what he was talking about and, to be honest, not really caring, Crush said, “Sure. Will do.” It was the same answer he gave his bosses when he didn’t know what they were talking about and didn’t care.

The Marauder came out of the locker room, his well-known and vicious scowl leading the way. With that expression on his face, you’d think the team had lost. But they hadn’t. Although, they had barely won.

Still, there seemed to be one thing that could make the Marauder smile no matter what, and she was skating toward him on those skates with four wheels, bruises on her face and drops of blood on her tank top.