woman!

And because his woman rocked the universe, Gwen did a forward flip, her hands bracing her on the track and flipping her body over. She landed easily, but she wasn’t done. Blayne caught hold of one of Gwen’s hands and flipped Gwen forward again, this time using only the momentum of their matched speed.

The crowd loved it and, Lock had to admit, so did he.

The song ended and the Babes rolled into the infield. A bony elbow slammed into Lock’s side and Roxy leaned over. “I taught my Gwenie that move.”

He smiled appropriately, nodded and when Roxy looked away, he glared over at Mitch and Brendon—

who gave him the finger.

But she’s worth it, he reminded himself. Anybody who could look that good in those shorts was worth every second of this torture.

Gwen didn’t go out for the first jam. They sent Pom-Pom Killer out for that, which gave Gwen ample time to stand around being nervous.

Tragically, Pom-Pom ended up eating track thirty seconds in, taken down by one of the knuckle-dragger She-wolves of the Furriers, and although Pom-Pom got back up and kept going, she never could get through and past the pack to get even a chance to earn some points.

“You ready?” Cherry asked, shoving the black jammer helmet with big red stars on both sides at Gwen.

“Yeah,” she said with way more confidence than she could ever hope to feel. “I’m ready.”

“Good. Keep your eye on me and Blayne. And, Gwen,” she motioned to the blockers and pivots who’d already moved out on the track for the next Jam, “she’s out there. Be ready for her.”

“I know.”

“And don’t forget the rules, because that’s where she’s gonna fuck with you. She’s gonna push you to lose it. But remember, no claws, no fangs.”

Gwen nodded and rolled out on the track, the crowd suddenly getting louder and she knew that was because of her family and friends.

Ignore them. Ignore them.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up at Blayne. Even with that muzzle on her face, Blayne was obviously smiling. Gwen could see it by the way her eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Watch me, babe. Don’t let anything stop you.”

Again, Gwen nodded and moved over to stand by the Furriers’ jammer. With her hands balled into fists and her arms bent at the elbow, Gwen crouched down, ready to take off.

The first whistle sounded and the pack took off, already jostling for position. She waited, holding her breath, and then she heard it; the second whistle sounded, and Gwen shot off, using the natural power of her legs to propel her forward. The crowd noise got louder, but she couldn’t focus on any of it as her gaze sought out either Blayne or Cherry in the mass of pushing and shoving bodies ahead of her.

She saw Blayne first and Gwen picked up speed, headingfor her and the hand that would grab hold of her and launch her through the pack. Her mind was so focused on reaching that gloved hand, she didn’t see anything else. But she heard the scream of warning from the other Babes watching from the infield.

She looked in time to see McNelly coming right for her. Gwen jerked her body around, but for her size, McNelly was faster than Gwen realized, catching hold of Gwen around the waist and lifting her off the track.

The She-wolf spun and used the momentum to launch Gwen right over the railing.

Gwen’s small body slammed into the protective glass that was up between the track and the bleachers.

The entire section reared back—except Lock and the wild dogs who’d already been through this with Blayne—the cheers and clapping fading out as they sat there.

Brody tapped his finger against his chin, analytical as always. “Is that why there’s protective glass?

Because of all the body tossing they do during the bout?”

“And for the blood. See?” Jess pointed to several cute but young girls standing around with buckets, watching the action from the walkway between the track and the stands. “They’re cleaners. You’ll see them occasionally come by and clean the glass or track of blood or whatever.”

Wincing, Lock rubbed his forehead. “Or whatever?” he asked Jess.

He felt her small body shrug against his. It seemed she still had no intention of moving away from his shoulders.

Next to Lock, Gwen’s mother was craning her neck, trying to see what happened to her daughter as the Jam continued without her.

“Ma, look!” Mitch said, pointing halfway down the walkway that encircled the track. None had even seen Gwen move from where she’d landed.

But she’d dragged herself to her feet, and now she was moving, faster and faster.

“Uh-oh.”

Lock didn’t even look at Roxy. “Uh-oh? What uh-oh?”

“When it comes to business, baby-boy, my Gwenie takes after me. It’s all about the ducats. But when it comes to suppressed rage that explodes when least expected, she definitely takes after her daddy.” Wringing her hands as they watched Gwen pick up speed from outside the track, she added, “I just hope she doesn’t get kicked from the game.”

Yeah, he was afraid to know the answer, but he still had to ask the question. “How does one get kicked out of a game where rules seem to be few?”

“For my cousin Maureen, she had to snap a hyena’s spine clean in half—of course, she did it on purpose.

And if we hadn’t pulled her off when we did, she would have ripped that spine right out along with that hyena’s head.”

“She’s going!” Mitch warned and he was right.