Jonah Bennett (Bennett Mafia)

Melissa.

The arena melted away for a second.

“Jonah, Jonah, Jonah.”

She’d liked to say that and then laugh as I tackled her in bed, rolling her underneath me.

A wave of emotion passed through me.

My chest felt tight. Pain radiated through me, like someone was cutting me open, one slice at a time. I missed her so much.

“Bennett.”

I glanced around. Crowler needed to stop using my last name. Tanner spent time in Kansas. We had business here, but I didn’t know what or how, so coming here had been a risk, but it was a calculated risk. What were the chances I’d run into any of his guys? But still. Crowler yelling my name was an unnecessary risk.

He waved from the aisle. “I’m going for beer. Want some?”

I looked over the stands again. They were starting the third period soon, and my chest was still tight. I could feel Melissa everywhere, so I stood to follow him. “I’ll come with.”

“Right on.”

I waited till the top of the stairs before I grabbed him. “Do me a favor?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Stop calling me by my last name, yeah? JoBro is fine.”

“Nice! I love it. JoBro it is.”

Crowler. So easy.

We went to get beer for everyone, and I was JoBro from there on out. Crowler made sure to announce to everyone the name I now preferred. Bubs and Babs laughed. We were all about the nicknames in this group, but I didn’t miss the look Carlster and Sams gave each other.

* * * *

“Cutler Ryder could have my babies,” Babs sighed in our Uber after the game.

We’d gone to a nearby bar, and now two hours later, we were driving somewhere else. I wasn’t really paying attention.

It was bliss.

Cutler Ryder was the star player for the Mustangs. He’d scored three of their four goals tonight in their win over Vegas. Far as I could tell, since his picture was plastered everywhere, he was the face of the team, too.

“Me, too.” Samsonite sighed. Both girls were drunk in the backseat.

“I’d bang him, if I was a female.”

Crowler was also drunk.

The only one sober was Carlster.

I had a steady buzz going, which I was enjoying. Melissa was still here, but not as haunting. Everything else had been pushed back, too.

“Pretty sure the dude is married and has lots of babies, if the Dirty Rag is true,” announced the Uber driver.

Everyone stopped talking for a moment.

Crowler, face scrunched up. “The fuck you say? A Dirty Rag?”

The driver laughed, hitting a signal and turning out of town. “It’s the local gossip site. You guys said Bresko’s, right?”

Samsonite leaned forward. “I think. That’s the club my sister said they’d be at.”

“You know people there?” the driver asked. “Your name is on the immediate-entry list?”

Sams frowned. “Why?”

“’Cause they don’t do lines,” the driver explained. “If you’re on the list, I can drop you right at the front. If you’re not, you have to wait in your car. It’s a process they have.”

“We can’t just get dropped off and wait in line like normal clubs?”

“Not here. There’s a line, but you gotta wait in your vehicle to get to the line. I don’t mind either way, but if you don’t have immediate access, I gotta charge you an extra waiting fee.”

Samsonite got on her phone, and ten minutes later, she said, “My sister is there. We can be dropped off. She put my name on a list, I guess.”

“All of us?” I asked.

She went back to typing.

Her phone lit up a second later. She read the text out loud, “Franklin gave your name and however many guests you have. Ask for the Mustangs’ private box. They’ll bring you to us.”

The driver whistled, making another turn onto a dark road. We’d gotten off the interstate. “Didn’t know I had hockey royalty in here. You know Franklin?”

“He’s dating my sister,” Sams explained.

He whistled again. “He’s one of the best we got. Heard his contract is up for negotiation again soon. I hope he doesn’t leave. Finally got our team to jibe a while back—wouldn’t want to lose that. We love the Mustangs here in Kansas City.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Sams said. “I’ll share that with her.”

* * * *

Samsonite gave our names at the door, and they waved us through.

I hadn’t been expecting a pitch-black nightclub. After a moment, I could see there were lights on the floor. A second later, a staffer came over, and then we were moving.

I glanced back to see one of the bouncers studying me.

I frowned. A frisson of alarm tried to penetrate my buzz, but I shrugged it off.

No way anyone could know who I was, right?

I just wanted a weekend, one weekend away.

We weren’t in Texas. I wasn’t anywhere outside my family’s territory. We were firmly inside it. Everything would be fine.

I didn’t need to worry about anything.

I was JoBro tonight.