by Sara Shirley
Stone.
That’s his name. My ex-boyfriend. The man I sent to prison for nearly taking my last breath. I spent six months with Stone after I met him when his band was playing at the local bar just over the state line from where I was attending college. I was completing my senior year at Johnson & Wales. I had my degree ready to go, so I could run my own business and make a future for myself.
Then, I met Stone.
He was the bad boy, tattooed, lead singer of his band. You know, the type of guy who makes wearing sunglasses inside at night look hot. His eyes never left me the minute I entered the bar that night. I should have run then, but my head didn’t keep up with my heart. I was young, stupid, and rebellious. I didn’t see the danger. I craved the danger. Well, danger found me, and it nearly killed me.
I survived and moved far away from my old life hoping Stone would never find me. I trust the restraining order I slapped against him stays in effect, since I know if he ever is released from jail, he’ll try his best to find me. I’m just praying I’ve covered my tracks well enough in three years that he won’t pick up my scent anymore.
I can only wish.
I can only hope.
The music kicks up a few decibels, and my mind is back helping the C-Naughties practice. The only thing I’m good for right now is blowing the whistle and helping Coach D-Licious. Dee has been my mentor for two years. She’s the one who actually introduced me to flat track roller derby.
I was enrolled in a Rape Aggression Defense (RAD) program at the local police department, and we were forced to pair up. Learning how to defend myself against an attacker was something I needed to do. I couldn’t be scared for the rest of my life, never knowing when or if Stone would return for me. Even if he didn’t, he wasn’t the only person out there who could be potentially dangerous. I’m not gonna lie. Dee freaked me out a bit. She was loud and intimidating with her nose ring and full-arm tattoos, but she was what I needed in my life. She forced me to be tougher and more aggressive. I needed to let go of my inner demons and just unleash my anger.
When it came time to actually have practice scenarios against the RAD officers, she watched me let loose. I kicked. I elbowed. I screamed at them like it was truly my last breath again. As everyone else continued to practice, Dee approached me and asked if I knew about roller derby. At the time, I had no idea what it entailed. She handed me her trading card and told me to be at the practice arena at a certain time. The rest, you can say, is history.
I showed up unprepared that day and left with a new sense of freedom and a handful of new friends who allowed me to join their sisterhood and provided me a place to stay and feel safe. Three years later, I stand here helping them as they have helped me.
One foot in front of the other. Prove to the world you belong here. Make a difference and always remember…you are a jammer. You fight to win.
Those were the words my fellow C-Naughties told me after I made the team. I’ve lived and breathed them ever since. I am their jammer, their scorer. I push through the lines to help the team win, and they protect me.
I blow the whistle in my mouth as I watch Lucy round the corner and booty block Rose out of bounds. Stopping abruptly, Lucy skates over to me with her hands on her hips, giving me the stink eye. Her short blonde braids stick out from under her helmet as she removes her mouth guard before yelling, “That move was totally legal! Coach! Take the whistle away from Sam. She’s not being fair today.”
I laugh and roll up in front of my roommate. “Fair? Oh, I think I’m being totally fair, considering the noises that filtered through my bedroom walls last night.”
“Hey! It was Derby Date Night in the house. Rules do not apply. You know that.”
Yeah, I do know that. Derby Date Night was basically set forth that if any of us wanted to bring a guy home after a date, then we couldn’t judge or place blame on the other. Typically, I’m working at Vines, so I avoid all awkward situations, except it was Monday night, and we were closed. I was thrust headfirst into moans and screams from both parties involved. Earbuds do absolutely no good when your neighbor is screaming to have her ass slapped harder.
Blinking my eyes rapidly, trying to erase all mental images of Lucy doing anything of that nature, I look up at her big grin before she flies over and grabs my face between her hands. “Sam, you need to find a guy who will rock your world.” Fear and panic flash across my face, and I must go paler than a ghost before Lucy finds my eyes again. “Hey, don’t think about him. Moving forward, remember? You’ve been alone too long. The perfect guy is out there just waiting to sweep you off your feet. I can feel it,” she says as she holds up a fist, waiting for me to give her knuckles. After I smack my knuckles with hers, our hands fly away as we wiggle our fingers and whistle. “Naughtie sisters for life, girl. Now, back to that booty block, which was totally legal.” Lucy gestures by sticking out her butt toward Rose. Rose rolls her eyes and slaps Lucy’s ass before moving back to the track.
“Hey, no ass slapping!” I yell at Rose. “She likes it too much.”
About three weeks before the girls’ accident, I put in a request for a transfer to another state police barrack station. I had just about enough of the Boston station. I enjoyed the guys I worked with, but the constant city madness was beginning to take its toll on me. I’d been there nearly nine years, and it was time for a change. Little did I know that change would bring me closer to home. My parents were ecstatic to say the least when I told them. I love my parents and my family, but being near them is never a good thing.
Mom immediately thought I would be moving back into the house. Oh, hell to the no! Sorry, that’s never going to happen. I honestly don’t know how Courtney can still live there after all this time. Fortunately for me, my friend from the police academy lives in downtown North Andover, a ten-minute drive from the police barracks in which I’ll be reporting. Nick has recently split from his girlfriend, so I’m moving into his townhouse for the time being.
As I’m moving boxes and unpacking things in my new room, my cell phone begins ringing. I notice the incoming call from Jeremy and answer it without hesitation. “Hey, are you calling to tell me you fixed that little problem I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?” I know he talked to Courtney about Emily’s severe depression, but he hasn’t openly admitted to me where they are yet, nor have I had the chance to stop by to see Emily.
“You can talk to me about fixing relationships when you finally have one,” Jeremy snaps back. Okay, I deserved that one.
“Sorry, but seriously, have you at least talked to her?”
“Glad to see we’ve gotten past the whole ‘Hey, how’s my brother’s professional hockey debut going?’ No. No, it’s fine, Josh. I’m just fuckin’ fantastic out here. Life is great. I’m miserable. Emily is miserable. And now, I’ve got you riding my ass.” I hear Jeremy muffle a scream through the phone.
“Listen. I’m sorry, Jeremy. I really am, but I do have your best interest at heart. Dude, you didn’t see her that night you talked to Courtney. It’s been a week, and Mom says she’s better, but she’s still taking her to therapy. You know as well as I do how to fix that girl. The ball is in your court, Jeremy. You were supposed to be the one fighting for her, remember?”
“I know, and I’m trying. It’s not easy when you’re traveling as much as I am. I just wanted to call and see how things were going with the move.” Frustration and sadness are in his voice, and I know he’d rather be talking to Emily.
“Everything is good so far. I start in Andover tomorrow, but it’s just orientation. My first road shift is in another week. Until then, I’m just going to take some time and relax. It’s been crazy since New Year’s. Don’t worry, though; I’ll check on Emily for you while I’m here. Just promise me you’ll be the bigger person in this.”
“I’ll call her. I only hope I’m not too late.”
“Something tells me you’ll never be too late for that girl.” My phone dings, signaling an incoming text. After seeing whom i
t’s from, I tell Josh I’ve got to get going.
I type a brief response, and my phone dings again shortly later, displaying this text.
No need to wine and dine me. You know I’m a sure thing tonight.
Before heading back to my unpacking, I respond quickly.
I’ll be at your place around 8.
Ahh, Tarryn. We have absolutely a non-existent romantic connection, but she’s helped release a lot of tension since we met last summer. Basically, she’s become a friend with benefits every so often. I’m not proud that I’ve stooped to that low, but my work schedule doesn’t allow for me to have any chance in hell at a normal relationship.
When you work in the Boston area, it’s not hard to find women who want to throw themselves at you, especially when you’re a cop. Tarryn is no different, but I told her from the start, I wasn’t in this for a relationship. Her family comes from money, and she’s way too confident and full of herself for me to ever be around her longer than a few hours. Her long legs and bold chestnut-red hair are what caught my eye. She’s hot and an easy fuck, but she’s not my type at all. For me, it’s about mental stimulation, not sexual stimulation. Tarryn is anything but intelligent.
Someday. Maybe someday I’ll find someone who makes my mind do cartwheels and allows me to mentally challenge myself.
Nick knocks on the door just as I’m finishing unpacking. “Are you about done? I wanted to see if you’re interested in heading down the street for a drink.”
Checking my watch, I see it’s still early in the afternoon. I’ve got some time before I need to head over to my parents’ house and then check in at Tarryn’s for my booty call. “Yeah, I could use a drink right about now. Just a couple, though. I’ve got stuff to do tonight,” I say, not telling him that part of my stuff to do involves a redhead named Tarryn.
After grabbing my coat off the bed and my wallet off the bureau, I follow Nick down the stairs and out toward the cold snow-covered streets of downtown. Growing up in Tewksbury was nice, but it didn’t have a downtown like North Andover. There are old brick-faced buildings lining the street with black gas lamplights. Restaurants and shops litter the first floors of all the buildings, while loft-style condos are situated above them. Nick has mentioned several of the residents tend to hang out around there when they aren’t working, so I should get to know the neighbors quickly.
We walk for about ten minutes before strolling into a bar called Vines. It’s a neat place with rustic wood accents and wrought iron fixtures. Colorful chalkboards line the walls behind the bar, listing the current beers on tap, while another board boasts the wine selections. It’s not a large place, but there are a few café tables up front and a ton of bar stools. A few sofas and low tables sit along the opposite wall. A man wearing a Fedora hat and Sanuk slip-ons sits in a chair at the front by the window with an acoustic guitar playing a different version of “Hey Ya!” by OutKast.
Nick and I spot a few open bar stools toward the back and grab them. A few moments later, the bartender swings over to our side of the bar. “Hey, boys, what can I get ya to drink?” I hear Nick order his pint of stout, and I ask for a local brewer’s pale ale. Nick watches the bartender intently as she pours the pints at the tap wall. Nudging his elbow, I point my head toward the cute blonde bartender, silently asking if there is something going on between the two of them. He shakes his head as she turns to place the glasses onto the coasters in front of us. “All right, my name is Cara. If you need anything else, just holla.”
Cara walks away to take care of the rest of the customers while Nick and I chat about police stories we’ve encountered over the past few years. When he asks how I managed to get my transfer to the Andover barracks so quickly, I joke and tell him sergeants can do whatever the hell they want in the department. Nick doesn’t seem to share my sense of humor. Apparently, on the local police department side he’s working, things haven’t been running so smoothly for any of the officers. Contracts, budgets, and Union issues seem to be the brunt of the trouble. It sucks, but it’s all part of the job for which we signed up.
I catch Cara making her way behind the bar again. She eyes Nick who chugs back his beer. “Another pint, darlin’?” she asks him as she leans over to put glasses into the dishwasher, flashing us in the process. Nick chuckles, but agrees and slides his empty glass over to her. I’m still drinking my own beer as Cara gets doused in the bottom of the keg foam while pouring Nick’s beer. Cursing under her breath, she begins cleaning up her mess.
I quickly glance at the clock and realize I’ve been here much longer than I expected to stay. Abruptly standing from my stool, I slap Nick on the shoulder as I pull out my wallet from my pocket. “Shit, man, I have to get going. I promised Jeremy I’d swing by my parents’ house, and then I’ve got to go meet up with someone later. Don’t wait up for me.” I wink at my last statement before dropping a ten onto the bar for my beer.
Nick gives me a curious look as Cara makes her way to the back door at the end of the bar. “Hey, Sam! Can you change out the Guinness tap? It just kicked!” she shouts down the hall. Turning my way to the front door, I hastily make my way through the bar and out onto the street. I stop for a minute to throw on my knit beanie hat and glance back at Nick inside, as it appears he has struck up a conversation with two girls now. It’s hard to tell who the other girl is since the windows are still covered in frost from last night’s sub-zero temperatures. This seriously has been the winter that will just not end.
Why I decided to include craft beers to my drink lineup I’ll never know. Oh, that’s right, because in order to get dudes to walk into a wine bar, you need to have beer to keep them happy as well. Nevertheless, changing out keg lines sucks. My normal bartender called in sick today, so there is no way I can change over the line until he comes in or I get another guy to help from upstairs.
Pushing open the door to head to the main floor, I see Cara behind the bar talking to a customer. “Hey, Cara,” I say, getting her attention. “Unless he wants to help change over the tap downstairs, just give him another beer on the house,” I say as I grab an empty pitcher to finish draining the Guinness line. As I pass them, I see the front door shut and a guy standing on the other side of the window looking in. I hear the guy at the bar say he will help with the tap if we need him. “Cara, if you want to take him down there, I’ll meet you once I’m done here.”
When I turn back to the front window, the figure that was standing there moments ago has left. A chill runs up my spine, but I shake it away, knowing he is still behind bars. Shortly after, Cara comes through the door from the back, saying Nick is ready to change the line whenever I’m ready. I guess his name is Nick.
I dump the end of the keg down the drain and tell Cara that I’ll be right back as I head downstairs again to make sure Nick knows what he’s doing. By the time I get to the keg room, he’s got it ready to pop in. Clearly, this is not his first time around a keg.
“All right, Nick, you’re good to go,” I tell him as I walk closer to inspect his work. Within seconds, he’s managed to get it switched over. “I should offer you a job here during the weekends. We go through at least four kegs on a normal Friday night.”
Wiping off his hands, he looks up at me. “As much as that offer sounds like a dream, I think I’ll stick with my day job.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” I ask as I update the inventory sheet and head toward the stairs.
“I’m a cop for North Andover PD,” he says, coming up behind me.
Shit. There are probably a million laws I just violated by having him help me with the keg. His laughter permeates my thoughts, and when his hand lands on my shoulder, I shudder at his touch. I never let men get close enough to touch me anymore. With just one touch, I’m instantly transported back to that night.
His hands grip my shoulders so tightly I am almost positive he’s breaking bones as he pushes me into a dark room. His mouth lingers inches behind my head. “Do you think you can tramp around the bar all night
wearing that and flirting with every guy you see? I saw you. May as well have just spread your fuckin’ legs and fucked them all in front of me. Oh, wait. I think you actually did, didn’t you?”
“Hey, are you okay?” I hear in the distance. I hear the voice again, but it’s not him. My eyes focus on my surroundings. I’m here in the bar with Nick. Not Stone. Breathe, Sam. I have to remember to breathe. I need to get out of here.
Nick cautiously steps closer to me before speaking, “Are you okay? You’re awfully pale. I didn’t just freak you out, did I? If you’re worried about the cop thing, don’t. Trust me, I’m not the bad cop.”
Trust him. I have to laugh. I can’t trust any guy anymore. Stone made sure of that.
“I’m fine. I just had a moment. I need to get upstairs to get the keg line taken care of. Do you still want that drink?” I ask as I make my way toward the stairs with Nick following me.
“I’d prefer Cara’s phone number, but another drink works, too.”
I have to laugh. He wants Cara’s phone number. Good luck. That girl is a big flighty mess when it comes to guys. “If you want her number, you’ll have to pass her test, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Her bite is worse than her bark.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Nick says before we enter the bar area again.
“Hey, Cara,” I say. She turns her attention to me. “That Guinness keg is ready to start up.” She nods as she grabs the dump pitcher. “Oh, and this one,” I point to Nick as I continue, “he’d like to be number fifteen.”
We have a running tally. Nick is the fifteenth guy to ask for her number since she started working at Vines about a month ago. Cara laughs it all off because she can. Plus, she hasn’t given out her number to a single guy yet. In some ways she’s like me, constantly single. The only difference with Cara is she has no problem hooking up if she thinks the guy is hot. Nick will probably have a shot with her after she leaves here.
