all about you.”

Lock scowled at both lion males sitting one row back and over, and they gave him the finger.

Philly bastards.

“I can’t see past your giant melon head,” a thick Southern accent complained.

Lock looked over his shoulder. “If I tear your head off that measly body, I can put you in my lap for a much better view.”

“Or we can switch!” Jess said, stepping over her mate and forcing him to move one seat over so she was now next to Lock’s parents. “Hi, Lock.”

“Hi, Jess.”

“I’ll just lean on you like this.” She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rested her chin against his shoulder. “Then I can see everything.”

“Jessica Ann—”

“You started this, Smitty, and I’m comfortable.”

“Jessica, I’m not letting you—”

“

Don’t make me upset!” Jess screamed in Smitty’s face, shocking everyone but her fellow Packmates, who had to quickly look away so they could laugh in peace. “I wanna rest on Lock!”

“Okay! Okay! Calm down!”

Brody watched Jess as if she were a coiled snake ready to strike, but Alla only rubbed her nose and looked off, a little snort slipping by. Jess returned to her spot on Lock’s shoulder, her cute face pressed against his. “I swear,” she whispered against his ear, “I’m going to stay pregnant all the time. I totally have control when I’m pregnant.”

“That innocent face attached to that ruthless heart.”

She snickered until the lights shut completely off and that rough female voice from the first derby bout Lock had gone to came over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re about to experience a night you will always remember. A night of raw spectacle and unbridled brutality. Welcome, one and all…to the East Coast Roller Derby Finals!”

The crowd roared, but Gwen’s mother was the one who could be heard above everybody else.

“You’ve been waiting all year for it. And now it’s about to happen. Hold on to your seats and gird your loins for the battle of the century. The Staten Island Furriers versus The Assault and Battery Park Babes!”

More roaring, which could be barely heard above Gwen’s mother.

“Now get ready, because this is the time. This is the place. Because these tough bitches are going to leave the track soaked in the blood of their enemies!”

Lock and Jess looked at each other, Jess’s adorable face scrunched up in disgust. “What the hell kind of intro is that?”

“I bring you last year’s regional and national champions…

The Staten Island Furriers!”

The spotlights hit the track and the Furriers were spread out, their heads down, eachone wearing a fur hoodie.

“What do you wanna bet those jackets are made from the fur of animals they’ve skinned themselves?”

Jess joked.

Lock snorted as music came up and the player at the very end rolled across the track, moving around her teammates, a spotlight on her as she picked up speed. The wild dogs groaned in disgust and Jess shook her head.

“What?”

“‘More Human Than Human’ by Rob Zombie for their introduction music? How clichéd.” And she sounded just like a 1980s Valley Girl when she said that, too.

When the music picked up, the lone skater passed the first player and the whole team took off, keeping time to the music and pulling the hoods of their jackets off as the announcer called out their team names. As before, they were perfectly in sync and did some very cool dance moves as they skated.

But apparently that wasn’t good enough for her Ladyship of the Wild Dogs.

“Unimpressed,” Jess muttered.

The Furriers finished their presentation, the crowd cheering wildly, especially the section directly across from where Lock and Gwen’s supporters were sitting. There he could see Sharyn McNelly. She raised her hand in the air and gave the finger most likely to Roxy, who responded by giving both fingers with her sisters joining in.

Yeah, it was going to be a long bout.

As the Furriers rolled to the infield to get ready, the lights were lowered again and the announcer came back on.

“They began as the new predators on the block, but they’ve clawed their way to the top. They’re tough, they’re brutal, but they’re always ladies. Let’s hear it for the one, the only…

the Assault and Battery Park Babes!”

The announcer screamed, the crowd screamed, and a guitar riff Lock hadn’t heard in years blasted through the speakers. Joan Jett and the Blackheart’s “Bad Reputation” played and the Assault and Battery Park Babes tore out on the track. They came out screaming, pumping their fists, and getting the crowd ready. As they did, the announcer called out the derby name of each teammate and the corresponding female did some stunt to get the crowd wild, including leaps, splits, and flips. When they called out “Evie Viserate!” Blayne sped forward, turned, and backflipped, landing on both feet. Unlike during the Furriers presentation, the wild dogs were standing, Jess resting her knees on Lock’s shoulders and applauding like crazy.

But then the announcer called out Gwen.

“And new to the team tonight, let’s welcome Number Fifty-Nine, the classic Philly treat—TastySkate!”

If there had been screaming and cheering before, no one would ever know it. Not when everyone in their section got to their feet, stomping and cheering—even Lock. But hell! This was his