Nowhere Left to Run (The Nowhere Trilogy Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “Thanks.” He looked at the basic drum set we kept in the studio and started adjusting a few things. Tyler was warming up on his bass and Jayson came over to me.

  “There any way to get some hot water?” He pulled a tea bag out of his bag. “I drink herbal tea with a little honey before shows and I figure I should treat this like that.”

  I nodded. “There’s are mugs and a microwave in the lounge, so just fill it with water and heat it up.”

  “Thanks. Be right back.”

  I picked up the Pink Dragon and slung the strap over my shoulder. Damn, it felt good to be playing again. It had been too long. Writing songs on an acoustic or serenading the family didn’t count. This was the real thing, getting a band together, practicing, actually making music with a group. I started strumming the melody to one of Viktim’s hits, “Pieces of Nothing,” and vaguely remembered King Isak telling me it was his wife’s favorite song.

  Shit.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this. I was okay. I’d said goodbye to the past and was ready to make this happen.

  I knew the minute Bash counted off for us on a fun rendition of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” that we had something special. The first time you played together was usually complicated, filled with false starts and stops, awkward timing, and random notes. Not us. We played the AC/DC hit like it was our own, ending with an extended drum beat that made us all chuckle. Then we looked at each other.

  “Damn,” Tyler said, grabbing his water bottle. “That was fun.”

  “You guys think you can muddle through ‘Pieces of Nothing’?” I asked them.

  They nodded and we played it. Jayson wasn’t Jade, and that song had been written for her voice, but it still sounded fucking awesome. I shook my head as we finished and looked from one to the other. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. When I’d started playing with Nick, Jade and BJ, we’d danced around playing original songs for months because it took that long to find our groove just playing covers. Today, I’d played two songs with these guys and we were almost ready to record.

  “Let’s play ‘Nowhere Left to Fall,’” Jayson suggested. “I worked on it all week and I’ve got some ideas for the hook after the second verse…” He told me what he had in mind and the others nodded in agreement.

  There were no words for what happened next. We played the song flawlessly, as if we’d written it together, and as Jayson’s gravelly, soulful voice nearly brought me to my knees, I closed my eyes against the emotion surging through every fiber of my being. I felt the passion of my lyrics even though someone else was singing them, and Tyler and Bash made the melody stirring with a strong but haunting backbeat. I didn’t remember ever loving a song this much and as it came to an end, I was shocked back to reality by a smattering of applause.

  My eyes flew open and I looked into my father’s eyes.

  “That was absolutely fucking amazing,” he said quietly.

  Sandor and a couple of the runners were standing around too, all nodding in agreement.

  “That’s your first single,” Dad said. “We should work on recording three songs for the record company right away. They’re going to jump on this.”

  I looked at the guys, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What do you guys think? Are you in?”

  “Fuck yeah.” Tyler put out his fist and I bumped it with mine.

  “I’m definitely in,” Jayson said, meeting my gaze with one I couldn’t quite decipher.

  Bash was quiet and I turned to him. “Bash? You’re too quiet.”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just need the logistics ’cause I got a job last week and, no offense to anyone, I don’t have anything to fall back on and I have to eat in the meantime.”

  I opened my mouth but closed it again because I knew nothing about his personal life, but this wasn’t the time or the place to get into it. “We’ll make sure we work around that,” was all I said.

  Aside from Bash’s weird comment, there was excitement in the air as we played it again, this time with my father giving us a few ideas and Jayson changing the pacing of a few of the lyrics. It was the most fun I’d had as a musician in years, despite how much the song reminded me of Erik. If there was any such thing as an afterlife, he would hopefully hear it and know it was for him. For the rest of us, I was suddenly excited about the idea of releasing it.

  “We can get this recorded this weekend,” Dad told us as we wound down for the night. “Let’s start fresh tomorrow and see how much we can get done.”

  “We only have the one song,” I reminded him.

  “You’ll have more very soon,” he said, chuckling.

  “Are we gonna go party?” Tyler asked, nudging me.

  “Frankly, I could use dinner,” Jayson said. “I didn’t eat much today.”

  “I could eat,” Bash agreed.

  “Let’s head back to the Charleston and order a pizza,” I told them, since that’s where they were staying.

  They piled into the SUV I’d recently bought and I headed in that direction. Though I loved my Corvette, it wasn’t the right car for car seats and kids, so I’d bought this massive vehicle as an everyday car and would have the ’Vette for fun driving. I didn’t love driving it, but it was a lot more convenient for my new lifestyle.

  “What happened to your ’Vette?” Tyler asked me, climbing into the passenger seat.

  “I still have it,” I said ruefully. “It’s not the right car when you have two kids, but I couldn’t bear to get rid of it.”

  “Wait, two kids?” Bash asked. “I thought you only had one.”

  Apparently, I’d done a good job keeping Sasha out of the press. I told them about her and we talked about our homes, families and friends for a few minutes. Well, Jayson, Tyler and I did. Bash didn’t say much of anything. He was a hell of a drummer, but definitely an odd duck. I didn’t want to embarrass him or anything, so I left it alone, but Tyler didn’t have that kind of filter.

  “What about you, Bash?” he asked. “You close to your parents?”

  “I don’t have parents,” he responded. “My dad ran off when I was a kid, and my mom O.D.’d when I was ten. I grew up in foster homes.”

  “Oh, that sucks.” Tyler looked back at him. “How’d you get into music?”

  “My high school band teacher. He figured it would keep me out of trouble. Turns out he was wrong, but not in a bad way.”

  We all chuckled.

  “You said you just got a job,” Jayson said. “What are you doing?”

  Bash cleared his throat. “Okay, look, when I got out of foster care at eighteen, there was nowhere for me to go. No money, no job, no car, nothing. I lived on friends’ couches and then I moved in with a girl. That relationship ended about a year ago and I’ve been mostly homeless. It’s hard to get a job when you don’t have a way to get there, but a buddy of mine works at this place and says he’ll drive me. So I’ll be bussing tables at a restaurant in Venice.”

  The car was quiet for a beat, since no one knew what to say.

  “Are you homeless now?” I asked softly.

  He shrugged. “Mostly. I have some stuff I keep at my buddy’s place and I shower there, but there’s no room for me to sleep so I do the best I can. Sometimes I find a place to crash, other times I sleep on the beach. If the band works out, maybe I can find something here in Vegas.”

  “The band is going to work out,” I told him. “The only question is whether you want to be part of it.”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  We recorded “Nowhere Left to Fall” and “Whisper of Sin” in one take, surprising even my father. The musical chemistry between the four of us was like nothing I’d ever encountered before and by Monday, we were playing like we’d been together for years. I already knew Tyler very well so we gelled immediately, and Bash was one of those musicians who could keep the beat going with his eyes closed and one arm tied behind his back. I had no idea how he’d gotten so good considering his history, but I was gr
ateful my father had found him.

  Jayson was a lot like me. He was incredibly talented, born with a voice that was going to make him—and the rest of us—a household name, but also a music IQ that either you had or you didn’t. He could read music, was a great lyricist and played guitar, bass and piano. We wrote a song together Saturday night in about four hours, something I hadn’t done in a long time. By the time he and Tyler headed to the airport on Monday, I didn’t quite know what I was going to do without them. We’d spent the last four days together and still had so much we wanted to do. Unfortunately, for the time being, Jayson and Tyler both had jobs back in New York so they had to go.

  Bash, on the other hand, was going to stay in Vegas. If he was going to be a busboy with no home and no ties to anything in L.A., there was no reason he couldn’t work and live at the Charleston. I’d spoken to Nick about it and he was happy to help, so at least Bash was staying. It wouldn’t take the record company long to make a decision. They’d been bugging me about new projects since Viktim had folded and they were anxious to hear what I’d come up with. I’d worked with them long enough to know they were going to want us to do an album and my only concern was my father.

  He’d been slowing down, and though there were days where he was his old self again, working to produce our demo tape and running around the studio like a maniac, he slept hard at night. In fact, some mornings he didn’t get out of bed at all. I hadn’t seen him yet today and it was almost noon. My gut told me the end would come sooner rather than later, that he was faking feeling better for my sake and the sakes of those close him. There was something I wanted to do for him before anything happened, though, so I spent the day making phone calls.

  I was planning a farewell party for him that no one would ever forget. I called his two closest friends, the bass player and drummer of his old band, Jesse and Larry, and they were planning to fly in from San Francisco, with their wives, for the weekend. I arranged to have guys from the studio come and set up a makeshift stage in the backyard, with sound and lighting, as well as microphones, amplifiers, a drum set and miscellaneous guitars. I invited the members of Viktim and all of our family and friends. Mom and I decided to have it catered so neither of us would have to work that hard and could enjoy ourselves.

  As sad as I was about Dad’s declining health, I was excited about the party and the surprise. For the first time since I’d lost Erik, I had multiple things to look forward to. Now if I could just bring myself to have sex with someone other than myself, I might even feel alive again.

  28

  Casey

  The doorbell started to ring at nine-thirty in the morning the day of the party and my parents were still having coffee in the kitchen. Jesse, his wife, Brea, Larry, and his wife, Linda, stood there with a case of Jack Daniels and overnight bags.

  “Where the hell is breakfast?” Larry demanded, throwing open the kitchen door and letting himself in. “Jesus Christ, we fly in at the butt crack of dawn and the coffee pot’s fucking empty?” He glared at Mom, who raised her eyes in mock surrender.

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t believe anyone bothered to tell me we were having company.”

  Jesse gave her a big hug and then scooped me up in his arms. He was six feet six inches of masculinity, even at almost sixty, and he’d always been my favorite “uncle.” I squealed with pleasure as he spun me around and rubbed his rough beard on my shoulder.

  I squirmed out of his grasp. “Stop that!”

  “Ah, you young things don’t know how to handle a real man,” he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows at Mom. “Now there’s a woman who knows how to have fun.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

  There was a lot of laughter and confusion as Mom and I made more coffee and set out a breakfast buffet. Dad seemed in his element with his old band mates, laughing and telling jokes about the old days. It was nice to see him so happy.

  When runners from the studio arrived to set up the outdoor stage, I led them around back without my father realizing it. Mom did the same thing with the caterers that had come to set up a bar. The party was supposed to start around one with a buffet lunch, open bar and all kinds of music. Most of the guests would be coming and going all day, including Nicky and Tricia, who were planning to stay for a few hours in the afternoon before gathering up the children and taking them back to the hotel for the night.

  Nick and Skye arrived with Uncle Ben and Aunt Kari just before noon, their arms laden with desserts and alcohol. Dad narrowed his eyes when he spotted them and turned to me with a knowing eye. “What’s going on, young lady? Don’t tell me you aren’t up to something.”

  “Just all of your friends coming over for a good time.” I smiled and opened the door to greet more arrivals.

  I’d always looked forward to playing guitar with my dad’s band, Flawed Freedom, and that was on today’s agenda. I’d been lucky enough to tour with them for a few months, after their guitarist had been killed in a car accident, but they’d decided to retire after that, and I’d had to go back to Viktim of Prey’s tour anyway.

  As the day progressed, I watched my dad getting healthier with each passing minute. He seemed years younger and the smile on his face brought a familiar mischievous spark to his eyes.

  “Who wants a drink?” Dad yelled, raising a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “I do,” Larry yelled back, vaulting over the couch to get glasses. He was the youngest member of the band and he still acted like he was eighteen instead of fifty-two, but we were used to him.

  “I’d love to get shit-faced,” I said, joining my father at the bar. “Where’s mine? Last time I checked I was over twenty-one.”

  Dad wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Oh, really? Well, listen here, little lady, I believe that entitles you to a drink.” He poured another one and handed it to me just as Nick joined us. “And here’s one for you, Nick!”

  “Now this is a woman who can drink.” Dad hooted at Aunt Kari, sliding an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s see you down some Uncle Jack, girlfriend!”

  Aunt Kari did as she was told; two shots, in fact, one after the other, since Uncle Ben joined her for the second.

  “Wanna do a shot?” Nick asked, pulling Skye forward to join everyone.

  “Um, I don’t think so.” She wrinkled her nose. “Is there any wine or champagne?”

  “Of course.” He grinned. “But I dare you to drink this.”

  “Can we wait until I’ve eaten something?”

  “Sure.” He kissed her as we all began to laugh.

  “I’ve only had coffee so far today,” I told her. “We should all get some food if we’re going to be drinking this early.”

  A few of us walked towards the buffet as the doorbell rang again. I moved in that direction but my mother stopped me.

  “I’ll get it,” she said. She walked to the door and then stepped outside, preventing me from seeing who was there. I started to follow when Aunt Kari took my arm.

  “You’ve done something wonderful for your father—and in return your mother has planned something for you. Just wait for a minute.”

  I frowned, but nodded my head. What on earth did my mother have planned? I didn’t need or want anything and today was all about my dad. I turned in that direction and froze. What the hell was Jayson doing here?

  Mom had her arm linked through his as she led him through the foyer in our direction. I was shocked but the smile on my lips was genuine. He looked wonderful and I didn’t hesitate to throw my arms around his neck.

  “Well, hi.”

  “Hey.” He kissed my cheek, but the look in his eyes didn’t match the lightness of his kiss.

  “I’d ask what you’re doing here but my mother obviously had something to do with it.”

  “You two should go into the kitchen,” she said, shooing us in that direction.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what she told you to get you to come but—”

  “You think she had to coer
ce me into an opportunity to see you?” He cocked his head.

  “I figure I’ve given you a lot of mixed signals,” I said quietly.

  “No. You told me the truth and asked me to give you time, which I agreed to. There’s nothing mixed up about that.”

  I smiled. I was really starting to like him, which was both nerve-wracking and exciting.

  “If you’re here as my date tonight, everyone is going to think we’re together.”

  His eyes found mine and he circled my waist with one arm. “Is that so terrible? The idea of us being together?”

  “But…we’re not,” I whispered, though my heart had begun to race. His closeness affected me in ways I couldn’t explain. I didn’t want to feel like this around him, but I did.

  “We can take it one day at a time,” he said quietly. “Music, friendship, and…dating? It doesn’t have to be anything formal or have a label.”

  “I’m kind of broken,” I said, my eyes never leaving his. “I don’t know if I can…date. I haven’t, well, you know I haven’t been with anyone since…”

  “Erik.” He didn’t look surprised. In fact, the look on his face was one of respect, with maybe a touch of sadness. “I don’t know what that would be like, to lose someone you love, but I’m a patient guy. And I think you’re worth the wait.”

  Our eyes spoke volumes as we let a strangely comfortable silence surround us.

  “I guess it’s a date,” I said after a moment. Then I reached for his hand.

  When the live music began sometime after four in the afternoon, everyone already had a healthy buzz. Mom was smoking a joint in the far corner of the living room with Aunt Kari, and Uncle Ben was toking on a cigar with Dad, who had a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and the cigar in the other.