Nowhere Left to Run (The Nowhere Trilogy Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “Come on, Casey!” BJ yelled, banging on the bass drum set up on the stage. “I thought we were gonna play?”

  Jade and Michael had only arrived an hour before from New York, and Jade jumped up on stage with a bottle of wine in her hand. Nick was kissing Skye as I breezed past them, the Pink Dragon in my hand. “Enough of that,” I called out. “Time to rock and roll!”

  “What are we playing?” Nick yelled, jumping onto the stage and grabbing the bass guitar someone had put up on the stage.

  “How ‘bout ‘No Remorse’?” Tabby yelled from the audience. “It’s my favorite!”

  That was our first single, which had gone straight to the top of the Billboard charts when Viktim had first released that album. BJ hit the cymbals and counted us off. “One-two-three-four!”

  I hit the first chord, earning feedback from the amplifier, and one of the guys from the studio jumped to adjust the sound. Jade sang a few notes before realizing that her microphone wasn’t on and someone else worked on that. Nick pounded a few notes, decided he didn’t need to change anything and paused.

  “Okay, we can do this again,” I yelled over my shoulder. “Hit it, BJ!”

  We started again, this time hitting the notes perfectly. Jade’s voice was still raw and gravelly, the way it had always been. Even Nick, who was completely out of practice, found his groove quickly and easily. We were still close friends, and after playing together for nearly five years, we fell back into our routine easily. Nick and I sang backup as though we’d been rehearsing for weeks, BJ didn’t miss a beat, Jade had been practicing for her solo album and sounded like it, so by the end of three songs, neighbors and spectators were trying to find chairs and ladders they could use to watch from over our small privacy fence.

  Mom gave permission to the security guards to allow in the friends and neighbors we knew, and soon there were nearly a hundred people in the yard. Nicky and Tricia had come in just after we’d begun to play, and Nick’s Uncle Matt and Aunt Kristen, who had only been planning to stay for five minutes to say hello, wound up staying for the whole set.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed playing so much. This was more fun than any arena or sold-out venue; I loved watching friends and family singing the words and even Skye was moving her head in time to the beat. We’d sold twenty million copies of the first album and the second album had sold even more. I’d almost started to hate the songs because we’d played them so much for three straight years. However, tonight I played them for my father because he’d told me he loved them.

  I finished my solo, our set came to a close, and BJ slowly let the roll of the cymbals fade away. The crowd, both in the yard and watching from the outside, went nuts. I raised a hand in acknowledgement and then handed my guitar to one of the studio runners and hopped off the stage, closely followed by Jade, Nick and BJ.

  “That was awesome.” BJ kissed both me and Jade firmly on the lips, winking before sliding an arm around his waiting wife.

  Nick hugged us and high-fived BJ. “Man, I’d forgotten how much fun that was.”

  “Casey Hart is my hero!” Dad called, grinning. I saluted him with my water bottle and then made a beeline into the house, heading for a bathroom. After relieving myself and touching up my makeup, I went into the kitchen hoping for a moment of privacy. Sitting at the kitchen table were my father, Larry, Jesse, and Aunt Kari using a credit card to line up four long, thick lines of cocaine. I blinked for a moment, because I couldn’t believe my eyes, and Dad looked up at me with a grin. “I called my doctor,” he announced. “I told him exactly what I was doing and what I wanted to do—”

  “And he told him he’s an old fool,” Mom interjected, joining them. “But that if it did anything, the coke might kill off a few cancer cells.”

  “I don’t intend to go out like a sick old man.” Dad chuckled. “I’m gonna be high as a kite!” And he snorted a three-inch line of cocaine like he did it every day.

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. “Okay,” I said. “I’m going to go make sure none of the kids come in here.”

  “Sasha is upstairs packing her overnight bag with Marisol,” Mom said softly. “She wanted to stay long enough to see you play but they’re leaving now. Don’t worry. We’re still responsible adults.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Dad yelled. “There’s not a responsible bone in my body tonight.”

  “So if Luke starts to cry you’re going to stick a beer in his hand and let him yell?” Mom teasingly asked him.

  He paused for a moment. “Now, come on—that’s not fair. You know I love that boy more than life. But yup, I won’t be around to see him drink his first beer, so I might just give it to him today.”

  My mother smacked him in the back of the head as I rolled my eyes and left the room. “Crazy old man,” I muttered.

  “I heard that,” he yelled after me.

  “You were supposed to,” I yelled back.

  “What’s going on?” Jayson asked, cornering me by the stairs.

  “They’re snorting blow in the kitchen—my father actually got the okay from his oncologist.”

  He laughed. “Well, he’s going to die no matter what—why not enjoy himself?”

  “That’s what he just said.” I blinked rapidly, getting emotional all over again.

  “Oh, now, come on—you’re not going to cry, are you?”

  “I’m trying not to.” I sniffled. “Dammit.”

  “Shh.” He pulled me close and the tears flowed freely. “There’ll be plenty of time for tears when he’s gone—why not enjoy him while he’s still alive?”

  “I’m trying, but it’s so hard looking at how awesome he feels today and still knowing there’s this awful disease killing him.”

  “He’s having the time of his life today,” he said. “Don’t spoil it for him or for yourself.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes and willed the tears to stop.

  “Hey, beautiful!” Dad appeared out of nowhere and reached for my hand. “You got the energy to get up there with us old farts and lend us a little guitar work?”

  “I always have the energy to play guitar!” I responded with a grin, quickly wiping away the last of my tears.

  “Do a shot first!” He all but poured it down my throat and my eyes watered as the liquid practically singed my esophagus.

  “Easy, Dad.” I laughed. “I need to be able to remember the songs!”

  “You grew up playing our songs,” he said. “You’ll remember.” He dragged me back to the stage and everyone in attendance went wild once again.

  We played for more than two hours. I was drenched in sweat, as were my father, Larry and Jesse, but no one could think of a good reason to stop playing, and there were so many people hanging over the fence to watch that we played until we absolutely couldn’t anymore. Someone had shown up to videotape the performance and I mentally thanked Nick for remembering to memorialize this final performance of a legendary band and performer like this one. Everyone in the family had been snapping pictures nonstop and I somehow managed to forget my sadness for a while.

  When we finally stepped offstage, Mom, Linda and Brea were waiting to hand their husbands towels. A twinge of regret washed over me as I suddenly felt left out, but before I could even ponder the thought, Jayson appeared with a fluffy white towel. I grinned at him.

  “Thanks. I figured I was gonna stay wet until I went upstairs.”

  “I can be an excellent roadie,” he said solemnly.

  I laughed. Taking the towel, we headed inside searching for food and water.

  While Dad and I relaxed, Jade got on stage with an acoustic guitar and sang songs from her past and upcoming solo albums. People seemed to be coming and going, but with the kids now gone, I sat on the deck, watching the party going on around me. If this night could go on forever, I wouldn’t mind at all. My father had the most energy I’d seen in him in probably two years, and Mom was actually drunk, laughing and having a good time. And there was a cut
e, talented guy sitting next to me, giving me both space and attention. He was close enough to let me know I wasn’t alone but not trying to make small talk or crowd me.

  “You’re incredible onstage,” he said after a while. “I have to admit it’s pretty heady stuff to think I’m going to be performing with you.”

  “You’re going to be a star in your own right, wait and see. We’re going to do great things.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  I smiled. “I do. Trust me.”

  “I hope so.” He met my eyes and something sparked between us, a hint of passion I couldn’t deny.

  Oh shit. He was leaning forward. He was going to kiss me, and I didn’t know what to do. Should I do it? My eyes started to close when a loud voice made us jump apart.

  “Casey, are you doing shots with us or what?” Dad demanded, coming up behind us.

  “Keep your pants on,” I told him. “Jayson and I are having an important discussion.”

  Dad wagged a finger at Jayson. “Dude—you gonna do something to distract my daughter from her troubles or what?”

  “Dad!” I shrieked, trying to stop him from continuing by putting a hand over his mouth.

  “I’ve been waiting for an invitation,” Jayson told him.

  “Invitation? Hell, boy—” He wiggled free of my hand, batting me away. “—you gotta take what you want. Don’t you know how stubborn she is?”

  “Mom!” I wailed. “Would you come have sex with Dad so he’ll stop embarrassing me?”

  “Sex?” Dad looked around, immediately. “Did someone say I was going to have sex? When? With who?” He wandered off in a mock drunken stupor, and I sighed heavily.

  Jayson snickered. “I love your dad, I really do.”

  “Me too.” I chuckled. “Well, I guess we’re supposed to go do shots.”

  29

  Erik

  The civil war in Limaj had escalated over the last couple of years and showed no sign of ending. During the summer, while crops were good and people weren’t freezing to death, it wasn’t so bad, but summer was ending now in that part of the world, and panic was setting in. Intelligence sources told us that farmers weren’t selling their crops to the cities, but hoarding and trading with others so their families would have enough of what they needed to get through the winter. The military was being forced to raid farms and take what they needed so the troops wouldn’t starve and the death toll rose every day.

  Watching from a distance was hard and I did my best not to let it get to me. There was nothing specific I could do to help and getting myself killed wouldn’t benefit the future. The anti-rebellion had slowed down their efforts, more concerned with survival than overtaking the government. They had a small stronghold at the underground railway, but for the most part, Anwar was running the country into the ground without any resistance.

  The CIA was doing what they could, but this wasn’t something the United States could easily involve themselves in, and they had protocol to abide by. Their role, and now mine, was reconnaissance, which was something else I had to get used to. My days were filled with running the hotel, raising a little girl, and getting in shape. With Ace around, my skills in boxing and the martial arts were improving and I wished Sandor were here to see it. I’d been more than adept before, but under Ace’s tutelage, I’d upped my game a lot. I fantasized about kicking Anwar’s ass so much sometimes I believed it happened.

  I consoled myself with a promise that I would have the opportunity to not just dethrone him, but personally kick his ass. I didn’t know when or how, but it was inconceivable that he would get away with everything he’d done. I hadn’t forgotten the deaths of my aunts and uncles, cousins… No, it weighed heavily on me, even with the passage of time. I’d given up so much, I refused to be denied the pleasure of besting Anwar, and I wouldn’t give up until it happened.

  It was early, not even five in the morning, but my sleep had been riddled with nightmares and I wouldn’t get any more rest tonight. My cock was hard as a rock too, making it uncomfortable to even remain in bed with Liz next to me. I slowly slid my feet to the floor and quietly padded into our newly renovated bathroom. It was huge, with a tiled shower that had just one wall and beautiful marble countertops. The double sinks had stylish brass fixtures and Liz had chosen an attractive jade and gold color scheme. It reminded me of my suites at the palace and I closed my eyes against the memories, letting the water sluice over me.

  As my erection throbbed against my abdomen, I wrapped my fist around it, anxious for relief. I grabbed some soap and lathered up, making my task easier. Jerking off was a rare treat since I was almost never alone, and I let my chin drop to my chest, conjuring up memories of Casey. Her body against mine, her lips around me, our bodies joined together. Damn, I fucking missed her, and as I stroked myself, I gave in to the fantasy that we were together again. It was getting harder, though. I knew what she looked like and could find videos of her online, but it wasn’t the same. Fantasies weren’t cutting it and I desperately needed human contact.

  “Want some company?”

  Liz’s soft voice made my eyes pop open and I momentarily forgot I had my dick in my hand. Her eyes glittered with desire as she dropped her robe and I had to make a conscious effort not to wince. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t Casey, and even my poor, neglected cock softened slightly as I looked at her.

  Shit. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, clearing my throat and releasing my cock. “I can’t… It’s just not, I mean, the time…” I closed my eyes, feeling like an absolute fool.

  “It’s okay.” She quickly grabbed her robe and put it on. “It was unfair of me to come in like this. It won’t happen again.”

  She turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me to my loneliness and memories that wouldn’t let go. I was as depressed as I was relieved and I balled my hands into fists, resting them against the wall. If it was the last thing I did, I was going to make Anwar pay for what he’d done to me.

  30

  Casey

  I woke up with a pounding headache and what felt like a wad of cotton in my mouth. Holy shit, I hadn’t had a hangover in a long time and I wasn’t sure whether to get up to use the bathroom or go back to sleep. I really had to pee, though, so I rolled onto my back—and into a warm body. I vaulted off the bed so fast I probably would have qualified for an Olympic sport if there was one and I stared down at familiar golden hair and tanned skin in shock.

  Oh my god.

  What had I done?

  Shit shit shit shit shit.

  We were both naked, and there was no doubt what had gone on. Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so I pulled on a T-shirt and ran for the bathroom. I took my time cleaning up and managed to make some semblance of order out of my hair. I grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and went downstairs in search of water.

  Mom was in the kitchen having coffee with Aunt Kari and they both looked up with a smile.

  “Have a good time?” Mom asked.

  “I guess.” I grabbed a bottle of water and then went back for a second, figuring Jayson would need one too.

  “You okay?” Aunt Kari asked softly.

  “Did something happen last night?” Mom asked, meeting my gaze.

  “I wasn’t ready for…him,” I responded blandly. “I don’t even know what to do now.”

  “Take something for your headache and go back to bed with that hunky rock god with the voice of an angel.” Aunt Kari raised her eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me you feel guilty.”

  I looked down, nodding.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Aunt Kari got up and hugged me. “He was my son, the light of my life. I miss him so much I can’t breathe sometimes. But he’s gone and I’d like to think he would want us to go on. He wants me to be a good grandma to his son, and eventually to Skye’s children. He wouldn’t want us to continue to mourn or spend the rest of our lives b
eing sad. We’ll always miss him and certainly never forget him, but life goes on, darling girl. Please don’t feel guilty. Enjoy your life. He gave his to protect you and the baby—that should count for something. Otherwise, you would all be dead and that would be a much greater tragedy.”

  I nodded wearily. “Thanks, Aunt Kari. I’m going back to bed.”

  I padded back up the stairs slowly and tiptoed into my room. Jayson had woken up and smiled as I came in.

  “Good morning.”

  “It’s after noon,” I told him, holding out the bottle of water. I downed a couple of ibuprofen tablets and handed him that bottle as well.

  He took some, downed half the water bottle, and then held out his hand to me.

  I took it almost reluctantly but let him pull me back to bed. “You’re totally freaking out,” he whispered.

  “Not totally,” I whispered. “But maybe a little.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I closed my eyes and rested my head on his strong, solid chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “I wanted you. Last night was fantastic.”

  “But?”

  “You know what.”

  “Erik.” He gently stroked my hair.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, but you can’t keep running from feelings. You don’t have to love me, but you have to love someone, sometime. He’s gone but you’re still here. If he loved you the way you say, well, I know if it was me, I’d want you to love again. To be happy. To look back and smile.” He brushed his knuckles across my cheek. “I’ll give you time and space, but you have to be willing to try.”

  “I am,” I whispered. “I promise. I am. I just need time to wrap my head around it. Please, say you’ll be patient with me. I’m not going anywhere or dating anyone else. I want to be with you, to explore something together beyond music. We just have to go slow.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now let’s go back to sleep for a little while so maybe this ibuprofen kicks in and this headache from hell goes away.”