“That guy called you JoBro.”
I laughed. “That’s not a special nickname or anything. I told him today to call me that instead of yelling out Bennett every other minute. Until this weekend, I’d been avoiding them as well. And like you all, they’re fed up with it.”
Tanner wore a slight smile now. “Good. Because if anyone nicknames you, it should be me.”
I grunted, taking another sip of whiskey. “Noted for future reference.”
He laughed. “Good.”
I turned to watch the dancers. Tanner kept watching me.
After a bit, he said, “You going to lose your shit again? Or is that drama done for the night?”
A sour taste filled my throat—the memory of her. I couldn’t get her out of my head. I took another swallow of whiskey, but the burn didn’t help. “I don’t know.”
I was a mess.
It’d been nine months since Melissa died. When was grief finished? Was it ever? I hated this, all of it.
“I just miss her.”
“I know.”
I hung my head, holding on to that whiskey. It was a lifeline right now. “She died because of me. I can never make that right. Ever.”
“You can kill him…”
“You haven’t found him!” I snapped, looking up.
Tanner eyed me evenly. “We haven’t found him, but we know his name. He’s a contract killer, and he only comes out to do work once every two years. He disappears right after a hit. Whoever paid him, paid him a lot to hit your girl. The guy won’t accept another job for a year, at least, and wherever he hides, he does it extremely well. Kai is handling negotiations to get a location for him in a week. I didn’t come to check on you. I came to ask if you want to be there when we get him.”
His words hung between us for a moment. I needed to process what he was telling me.
“Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?”
Tanner chuckled. “What? And miss not being bored and getting to chase my little brother to Kansas City, eight hours from where he was supposed to be, and finding him in one of our businesses?”
I had to smile at that. “Since when do we own nightclubs?”
“For a while, actually. When Kai sent me down here, he wanted to be half legit. This is a legitimate one.”
“You’re partners with that hockey guy?”
Tanner laughed. “Kai’s the one who vetted him first.”
“Right,” I mocked. Man. It felt good to be with family again, felt right. “When I’m with you guys, there’s no holding back. I…” This was hard to explain.
Tanner got quiet, but I couldn’t look at him—not when I explained this.
A part of me was ashamed.
I looked out at the dancing crowd, not really seeing them. “I feel secure with family, but when you guys aren’t around, I have to handle life. Everything in my head gets pushed back. You know?” I looked to see if he understood me. “I can push her back.”
He shuddered before he nodded. “Jo, we get it, but we love you. We’re always going to worry about you and want to check on you. That’s our job. You’d do the same for us, and you know it.”
He was right. If the situation was reversed, I’d be so far up his ass it’d almost be incestuous.
I went back to watching the dancers. “I love you, brother.”
“Love you, too.”
Then I saw her, smack in the middle of the dancers, the light flashing over her every third second.
Not Melissa—never her again—but the other one from that night.
Carson. Her name was Carson, and she was here.
I cursed, shoving up and heading for the door.
“What’s going on?” Tanner called after me.
“The lab chick is down there.”
In an instant he was up and following me, and I knew he’d call in the guards, because he was like me.
In our world, there were no coincidences.
Chapter Thirteen
CARSON
I moved toward the bathroom—more like stumbled to the bathroom—sweating, with this lacy, long-sleeve top plastered to me. I had no idea how my sister, Melody, had talked me into wearing this. At least I hadn’t listened to her when she said to go without my bra.
Inside the bathroom, the music was still pounding, and I was pretty sure there were two girls having sex in a stall behind me, but I could see my bra. And it was a cute bra. A black, slinky bra.
It was the one thing on me that I’d actually picked.
Melody had chosen the leather pants, and they were sticking to me, too.
And the heels.
I growled, staring at myself.
I needed to change this. I needed to muster up my inner Tim Gunn and work some magic, because I was going to sweat myself to death out there. Thank goodness I hadn’t been drinking.
Okay.
This shirt…
I hadn’t picked it out, but it was mine. I couldn’t remember when I bought it, where I bought it, or if I’d ever worn it. Done. I heaved it off, tried not to take a whiff of it, and I yanked on the sleeve. I pulled, tore, hacked, decimating what had once been a beautiful creation, I supposed. I wasn’t very fashion forward. I wasn’t even entirely sure what that phrase meant. What I was, though, was logical and functional, and I couldn’t cut my pants off, so the shirt would have to do.