Page 97 of False Start

Every dime of concessions went to keeping the utilities running, and when it came time to pay taxes, Lonnie figured it out, pulling extra cash from their day job income to cover the losses.

“Antônia also owns the rink. I can’t make this decision without her.” I can’t consider anything until I tell her.

“Tomorrow. Nine a.m.,” he says, getting up from the chair, packing up some folders and stuffing them under his arm.

“Or what?” I laugh, like this ultimatum can do anything. He can’t force me to sell.

“You’ve breached contract twice now, and your lack of communication gives me the grounds to dissolve your place as captain on this team, which makes me strongly consider removing you from the Devil’s Dames altogether.” My world is already spinning before the words are fullyout of his mouth. “Or, you can buy the league back from me, and I’m gone.”

Fucking snake. He’s going to sell it for more than what he paid.

Has this been his game all along?

Is this his con?

I’m so mad, I can’t think straight, and the minute Scott walks past me, I’m fuming. Once he’s gone long enough that I can assume he’s not in the rink anymore, I scream, wishing to God Lonnie could come back from the dead and tell me what to do.

Instead, the Devil sends me Stella, who doesn’t even bother to knock on the door before barging into the office.

“If that wasn’t a cry for help, girl, I don’t know what to tell you.” She plops down on the ratty old couch and waits.

“Scott is fucking us over,” I tell her.

“What do you mean?” Her expression falls. “I thought he’d be buying the rink, y’all get a bunch of money, we all live happily ever after?”

She doesn’t get it.

“You think if Scott buys the rink, things will change for the better?” I’m not challenging her; I genuinely want to know.

I’ve always valued Stella’s opinion, even when I don’t exactly want to hear it.

“No, I don’t. But I figured that kind of money would be life-changing, and I wouldn’t blame either of you for doing it, just as long as we get to keep skating.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, but do we get to keep skating? Every part of me tells me I can’t trust this asshole. Lonnie wouldn’t have left the rink to us to sell it. Would they have?” I’m at a loss, overwhelmed, lacking sleep, my candle burning at both ends.

Bilbo once said he was stretched thin,like butter scraped over too much bread.I felt it right now.

“How much?” She bites her lip.

“Does it matter?” I breathe out a nervous laugh, knowing that it should.

I’m not sure that any amount of money could make me sell this place, though, and Iknowthat’s why Lonnie left it to me.

“Twenty grand,” I tell her anyway.

“Twenty thousand!” DreadPool shouts from the doorway where they’re hiding behind the wall.

That’s when I notice the rest of the skaters there, listening along.

It’s better this way anyway. We’re a team. They deserve to be included in these conversations.

“Twenty thousand? That’s a fucking joke. The land alone is worth at least fifty. Anyway, that’s not what I meant. What’s the deal with our contract? The Devil’s Dames. We aren’t changing our names just to be free of this fucker. Lonnie named us. It’s ours.” I love when Star gets pissed.

“We’re signed for a seven year contract. Or a thirteen thousand dollar buyout.” I grimace, hating the way this asshole took advantage of Lonnie, that something they thought would bring salvation to the team is now possibly going to be the cause of our ruin.

“Do you have thirteen grand?” StarScreamer asks me.

“Fuck.”