First to Fail (Unraveled #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,28

the jammer from scoring by passing opposing team members.

My smile faded when Natalia was knocked down by a Pinup Puncher, Lauren PenaltyCall. Natalia hit her knees but popped back up. The aggressiveness of the sport wasn’t lost on me, but it was different when it was someone I cared about.

How many players broke bones?

The rest of the game I white-knuckled through, cheering when others around me did. The player that butted Natalia out of bounds had continued to target her.

Shaw Shank was going to be sore in the morning.

Relaxing when Natalia sat out a jam, I glanced at the time clock. The game was almost over. Would I be able to track down Natalia when she was done?

Would she want me to?

In the final jam, Natalia was back in play. So was Lauren PenaltyCall. I sat forward, my hands fisted in my lap. The intent was clear in Lauren PenaltyCall’s narrowed eyes. They made one lap around, the breeze from their passing blowing across my face. The section closest to the rink, the suicide section, cheered each time the skaters raced past.

I eyed the clock. Two more minutes left. Natalia had already deflected an elbow and zipped around a skate meant to trip her. Where was a ref when you needed one?

My heart pounded. The teams were neck and neck. Had my parents felt this way? I’d caught an elbow to the face in a couple of basketball games, but it was nothing like this. Jaycee didn’t play sports and I hadn’t gone to any games since I’d quit playing in college.

The jammer for the Pinup Punchers was darting around Natalia when Lauren PenaltyCall moved in to block her. Only the woman’s skates tangled with another player’s and she flailed to the floor. Natalia tried to jump over her, but Lauren PenaltyCall was still rolling. I rose, already jumping down the stands, when Natalia hit the floor, the crack of her helmet echoing across the gym.

Collective gasps rang through my bones and the lights were flipped on.

Women were already at Natalia’s side, the group so thick I couldn’t push between them.

“She all right?” I called, but no one paid me heed.

The group backed off, pushing me farther away. Musky sweat mingling with perfume surrounded me as I tried to shove my way past.

Curious glances were thrown my way, but I ignored them until I made it to Natalia’s side. I dropped to my knees next to a man and woman, both wearing a white shirt and navy-blue medic pants. EMTs.

Natalia was flat on her back, blinking at the woman. “Yes, I remember my name. Let me back in the game.”

I couldn’t hear the woman’s reply, but Natalia waved her off and surged to a sitting position. She scrunched her face up and rubbed her neck. “Oof. That hit was harder than I thought.”

“You really should get checked out,” the male EMT said, but Natalia shrugged.

“I had my helmet.” She knocked lightly on the headgear and winced. She unhooked the chin strap and took the helmet off. Her gaze landed on me and she frowned. “What are you doing here?”

I was about to answer when the EMT interjected with more questions. I didn’t leave her side as they moved her farther away from the rink since she stalwartly refused medical care.

A woman who must be in charge of the Mean Streaks skated up after murmuring with the female medic. Her helmet read Thriller Killer. “Do you at least have someone to hang out with you for a while?”

Natalia’s gaze strayed to me and I quirked a brow. When she didn’t dismiss me, I dipped my head.

“Yes,” she grumbled. As she slowly skated the perimeter of the gym, the crowd cheered. She grinned and waved, but she couldn’t hide the tension in her face from me. She was hurting.

Thriller Killer faced me, her bright blue eyes serious. “Can you pull up to the door? I’ll walk her out after we get her things. And try to talk some sense into her.”

“Good luck. Is there a door by the locker rooms that’s closer?” I got directions and jogged out to my vehicle.

The night wasn’t ending how I’d planned, but if I hadn’t come, who would she have had to help?

Natalia

I leaned my head against the headrest of Chris’s car and suppressed a groan.

It wasn’t the dull throb of my brain getting rattled, but the rest of me. Too bad Thriller Killer had only given me an ice pack for my head.

“I wasn’t knocked