Page 76 of Forecasting the Forward

“The fuck was that?” Levi asks.

“He started asking all kinds of questions about my wife, and he knew she lived alone downtown before we got married. This has her asshole brother written all over it, and I told McNichols he better tell me everything, or I’d destroy him,” I explain as I shove my bag into the overhead bin.

“Uh, well, that is one violent way of threatening someone,” Levi comments.

I shrug. “I make no apologies for how I choose to protect my wife.”

“Very feral of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment, Jax,” Levi says, scowling.

“Yeah, it kinda was. When you find your woman, you’ll understand. Someone fucks with her, they fuck with me. And if they fuck with me, I’ll finish them.”

“Who are we finishing?” Gabe asks as he walks down the aisle.

“Coach McNichols asked a question about Jax’s wife, so Jax threatened his life. You know, normal husband behavior,” Levi says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“What did he ask?” Gabe wonders.

“Wanted to know if she’d moved in with me yet, because he knew she lives alone downtown, and how scary it must be for her. Then asked if she was knocked up.”

Gabe scowls. “He knew she lived alone? Oh, yeah. I’d have gone nuts too. What the fuck was he thinking?”

Levi stares at us with his mouth hanging open in shock. “Seriously, you too? This is insanity.”

“Once you have a woman, you’ll understand.” Gabe looks at me and nods. “Someone threatens Cassie, I’m tossing this nice guy persona and taking them out. Done. End of story.”

I nod in agreement as Levi throws back his head in frustration with a growl. “This is not normal behavior, gentlemen. What the actual fuck?”

“Normal behavior?” Grant asks. “They aren’t normal, but what’s the issue?”

Levi quickly explains to Grant what happened, and he nods. “Oh, yeah. I can understand that. My last girlfriend … yeah, I’d have burned down the world for her if needed. What can we do, Jax? How do you need help?”

Levi groans, but I ignore him. “Clearly I’m getting McNichols fired, because he’s a risk to all of us if a relative of my wife can purchase him as a lookout. Then I’ll be calling my wonderful brother-in-law and letting him know that the buck stops here. Thought I made that clear the last time I spoke to the jackass, but I guess not.”

“What if he still doesn’t get the message?” Levi asks. “You can’t fight everyone.”

“Physically? No. Besides, I’ve got like five inches and fifty pounds on the poor bastard. That wouldn’t be a fair fight.” I’m not gloating. Well, notcompletelygloating. I’m stating a fact. Rodney Stephens did not get blessed in the genetics department like I did. But again, he underestimates what I’m capable of. “Sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire. He thinks he can come after me through hockey, so I’ll go after him through his family’s business.”

On the flightto Las Vegas when Becca fell asleep on my shoulder, I’d done a deep dive into her family’s money, their ties to Indiana, and what her brother would be capable of now that he controlled the empire. What started out as a car dealership morphed into Stephens Autos all over the state of Indiana and into western Ohio. That income allowed Rodney Senior to make a move into commercial real estate, where his net worth flourished. Within the past twenty years or so, he parlayed that success into a short stint in the Indiana State House of Representatives, running as a Republican, of course. After what I experienced in the short time I interacted with Becca’s brother and mother, and how they expected her to dutifully do as they told her, I’m not at all surprised to find out where their political views lie.

Having been involved in a scandal with a college debutante, Rodney Senior lost his representative position quite handily to a Democrat after only two years. I found this out on Reddit, but couldn’t find any actual news sources about it, which tells me the Stephens family somehow had the entire thing swept under the rug. Becca certainly didn’t tell me about it, and I wonder if she even knows.

Curious to discover if there could be any skeletons in the Stephens’ family closet, I fire off a text to an investigator friend I went to college with to see if he’d like to assist me in taking down Rodney Junior and all of his minions. He’s always been a fan of destroying assholes, so I’m not surprised when I get a very quickaffirmative response, and I send him all the information I know about both Rodney Stephens’.

I text Becca good morning, even though I know she’s at work and probably won’t respond. I’ve texted her every morning without fail, and I’m not changing it now.

It is a long-ass flight from the west coast to Florida, crossing three time zones. By the time we land in Tampa, we go straight to the hotel for a nap, and then head to the arena for the game.

“Jax!”Coach Davenport screams. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Speaking of the game … I’m off mine. I can barely skate, I’ve gotten in two scuffles with Tampa Tide players, and I have zero points for the game.

“Do you need to be pulled?” Coach asks after I do an awful job of passing the puck to Daws at the start of the second period. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, so either get your head in the game, or tell me to pull you. Your version of amateur hour is not it.”

Don’t I fucking know it.

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