Nowhere Left to Run (The Nowhere Trilogy Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “My mom might be making breakfast,” I murmured.

  “Maybe in a little while.” We both fell back to sleep.

  Jayson left to go back to New York the following day and I kept to myself, cuddling with the kids and thinking about the weekend. The great party. My dad’s happiness. Jayson. So much fucking Jayson. The sex. Oh my god, the sex. I wasn’t sure how it had happened, but alcohol and more than three years of abstinence probably had a lot to do with it.

  Regrets, I thought wearily, were a funny thing. As was guilt. What I was feeling probably wasn’t exactly guilt. Erik was dead, after all, and I never would have looked at another man if he was still here. But he wasn’t. And dammit, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I was twenty-six years old and Erik and I had only truly been together three months. While I was one hundred percent sure he’d been my soulmate, that wasn’t supposed to be a life sentence of loneliness and despair. Not at my age anyway, and I refused to believe that’s what he would have wanted. So it was time for me to let go. For real this time. I’d thought about it, known it needed to happen, but I hadn’t been ready. Now I was. At least I hoped so.

  I had no interest in dating or playing the field. There were available men everywhere, but casual dinner dates and mindless sex sounded like torture. My one and only one-night stand had shown me I wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing, so if I was ready to get back in the game, it had to be with just one person. Someone I cared about and genuinely wanted to spend time with.

  Jayson fit the bill because he was special. Handsome, educated, and smart, so talented he made my skin tingle every time he sang, and generally a good guy. The sex had been good and the music we’d been playing was even better. If I couldn’t have Erik, I couldn’t think of a single other thing I needed in a man, and Jayson was being incredibly patient.

  Now I just needed to make sure he was prepared for the crazy that was about to take over our lives. He was still new to the music business, but I’d been involved most of my life and I’d become a star in my own right at eighteen. The record company had already called my dad to tell him how much they loved the demo tape we’d sent them, so it was just a matter of time before they offered us some kind of deal.

  They’d made a lot of money with Viktim, so it made sense they would want any new ventures I participated in. The Hart name was gold in rock and roll and I’d more than earned my stripes. The question now was whether or not Jayson and Bash were prepared. Tyler was more than ready. I’d known it the first time I’d seen him play, but he’d needed time to grow up. He was almost twenty-three now and I had no doubt he would be ready by the time we went on any kind of tour. Jayson was a few years older at twenty-seven and Bash was twenty-four, so we were at a good place in both music and life to start something new and exciting.

  “Casey, is Jayson your boyfriend?” Sasha asked, looking up at me curiously.

  “I… Yes.” God, it was weird saying that out loud. And poor Sasha was going to be so confused. I’d been married to Nick when she came to us and he’d agreed to adopt her. We’d explained that though we weren’t going to be married anymore, he was going to be her father if she wanted him to be. She’d seemed amenable to that, but now he was married to Skye and I was involved with Jayson. Could she comprehend any of this at eleven?

  “So I’m going to have another daddy?”

  “Well, I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “We’re still getting to know each other, but I’m not going to ask anyone else to be your daddy unless you want me to. Okay?”

  “That sounds like a good deal.” She nestled into my side and I bent to kiss the top of her head.

  It had been interesting unexpectedly adopting an older child, but it was fun too. She was smart and funny and made me laugh all the time. She didn’t ask about her mother much anymore, but I did my best to remind her how much Pam had loved her. We’d managed to get everything from Pam’s house in L.A. delivered to us so there were pictures, jewelry, books and lots of things I’d boxed up and put in storage for her so she had it when she was older. I also kept a couple of framed pictures of them—and one of Pam and me from our tour together—on her dresser. I wasn’t replacing her mother, merely taking over for her.

  So many changes, I thought, looking at the two children I was holding. They were so young and innocent and I felt like I’d already lived through a lifetime of pain and drama, but I was coming out the other side. I didn’t know if I would have been this strong for myself, but I sure as hell would be for them.

  I started helping out at the studio a lot more since Dad had been slowing down. It killed me to see him sitting on the couch watching TV instead of running around like he usually did, but he told me he was saving his energy for when we recorded our album. The record company had jumped on the chance to sign the new band and now we were trying to figure out what we were going to call ourselves. We’d tossed around a bunch of names but so far nothing had stuck.

  “I’ve had a thought,” Jayson said on the phone, the night before we were supposed to give the record company our decision.

  “What have you come up with?” I asked him. He’d been the only one of us not really throwing out names right and left.

  “Bear with me, I know you’re not going to love it, but think about it before you say no.”

  “Hit me.”

  “Pretty Hart… Hart spelled like your last name. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks you’re pretty, and the play on words refers to you both inside and out.”

  I chewed my lip thoughtfully. “I don’t know. That makes this band about me, and this isn’t my band, it’s our band. I’m already the most well-known member of the band, but I don’t want to throw it around that way.”

  “Why not? Randy Bachman and company didn’t hesitate to call their band Bachman Turner Overdrive and Jason Bonham just kept it simple with Bonham. Why not something with Hart in it?”

  “I know, but Pretty Hart feels like it’s all about me and that’s not what I want. I want it to be about us.”

  “Okay, how about Pretty Harts, with an S on the end? That means we all have pretty hearts, hearts with an E, but are led by the amazing Casey Hart, thus the name.”

  I still wasn’t sure, but it was growing on me. “Maybe. Let’s run it by the other guys.”

  “I already have.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, the singular version. I’m sure when we explain the variation they’ll be down. They liked it. Look, let’s not pretend that this band is going places because of us—this is all about you. And no one is upset about it. Getting a chance to play with someone like you is a dream come true for all three of us. If the band and the album take off, all of that will change, but for now, this is the Casey Hart Band. So unless you prefer a name like that…”

  I grimaced, but he was right. They were unknowns and I was already a star. I was the reason we’d gotten a deal so quickly and I carried the brand power that would elevate us to the status necessary to get exposure. Whether or not the music took off was the one variable, but until we recorded a full album and started playing it for people, there was no way to measure that.

  “Fine. Pretty Harts it is, but someday when we’ve got multiple platinum albums and Barbara Walters wants to interview us, you’d better not say it was my idea!”

  He laughed. “Promise.”

  31

  Erik

  The first time I heard the song “Nowhere Left to Fall,” the whole world stopped. I was in my office at the hotel, going over the previous night’s security report. I had a satellite radio station on, playing through my computer, and though I wasn’t familiar with a group called Pretty Harts, I knew instantly what it was. My hand froze on the mouse, and I stared at my monitor, though there was no visual to go along with the sound. The words tore through me and I could picture her face, hear her voice, feel her touch. Her pain radiated through me as if she were here, as if I felt what she’d been feeling as she wrote it:

  My heart’s in pie
ces on the ground

  I want to shout, but can’t make a sound

  When I lost you

  I lost it all

  Now there’s nowhere left to fall

  “Hey, Scott, do you think you could…” Liz came into the office, balancing a fussy Leni on her hip.

  I switched off the volume, looking up almost guiltily. “What’s going on? What’s the matter, baby girl? Do you need a daddy hug?” I reached for the squirming toddler.

  “She’s got a fever,” Liz said. “And Langley called. I have to fly to Moscow.”

  “Now?” I stared at her.

  She met my gaze. “I’m sorry…I have to go.”

  “All right. I’ll call the doctor.”

  “I already did. He’s on his way. I just need to grab my go-bag and head out.”

  “All right.” I leaned over and pressed my lips lightly to hers. “Be safe.”

  “I’ll call when I can.”

  I watched her go before turning my attention back to a sad, whimpering Leni.

  “Mommy,” she whispered.

  “I know, baby, I’m sorry. But Daddy’s here. We’re going to go cuddle and watch a cartoon. What do you think? You want to watch Dora?” Dora the Explorer was her favorite cartoon on television.

  She nodded, putting her fist in her mouth and mumbling under her breath.

  I got her settled on the couch in front of the TV just as the doctor arrived. He examined her and looked at me with a wry grin. “Liz told me she was going out of town on business… You’re in for a fun weekend.”

  “Uh-oh.” I eyed him.

  “She has the flu. I’m sure it’ll wear itself out in a couple of days, but you’re going to want to keep an eye on her. Make sure she stays hydrated and her fever doesn’t get too high.” He wrote a couple of prescriptions as he gave me instructions and things to look for. “If she’s not on the mend in seventy-two hours, call me.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” I shook his hand and watched him go.

  For the time being, Leni was content to curl up in my lap and watch cartoons, and in all honesty, I was happy here too. Unlike Liz, I didn’t feel the need to jump every time the CIA called. I didn’t do a lot for them, since most of my usefulness came in my knowledge of the language and culture of Limaj. I occasionally translated documents they acquired or watched surveillance video to see what was happening within the country, but it was Liz who jetted off all over the world doing whatever it was she did. She didn’t tell me much and I didn’t ask. We talked if it had to do with Limaj, but otherwise, I didn’t need to know what she did on her missions and I preferred focusing on security at the hotel and Leni.

  If anything brought me pleasure these days, it was being a father. I would have liked to have more kids but Liz said she wasn’t ready to give up the travel and potentially dangerous part of her job, and pregnancy would keep her out of the field for a while. I’d remained celibate, so we hadn’t had sex, but I would have if she’d wanted a biological child. However, she’d been hesitant whenever I brought it up and it didn’t feel right pushing it, so I didn’t.

  Marriage wasn’t what I thought it would be. Of course, Liz wasn’t the woman I’d thought I would marry, so that probably made sense. It wasn’t that it was bad. In fact, it was perfectly pleasant. She was smart, beautiful and fun to be with. Between Leni and the hotel, we didn’t have a lot of time alone together, but our friendship was solid and we’d never so much as had an argument, much less a fight.

  That was most of the problem, though. We didn’t fight because there was no spark, no passion. Everything was so bland between us there wasn’t a reason to get worked up about anything. Best friends to a degree, but there was something missing in that as well. We didn’t have the easy banter I’d once had with Sandor, or even Daniil, and she was far more focused on her job than anything else. She made time for Leni, but I was really an afterthought and the worst part was that I didn’t care. I wasn’t looking to fall in love. I loved my daughter, and the son I had to watch grow up from afar, and that had to be enough.

  Sometimes it just wasn’t.

  “Daddy…”

  “What’s the matter, princess?” She loved when I called her that.

  “Draggy.”

  “You want your dragon? Hang on, I’ll get it.” I went into her bedroom and dug out the stuffed pink dragon she loved. I’d seen it in a booth run by a street vendor and had picked it up. It reminded me of Casey, of the guitar Sandor said she loved so much, so I’d bought it for Leni. She loved it, couldn’t sleep without it, and we’d bought a second one as a backup just in case anything happened to the first one.

  “Here you go, princess.” I handed it to her and she pulled it from me, cuddling it to her chest. “Sleepy.” She closed her eyes and I was glad to let her rest while I made myself something to eat.

  Impulsively, I pulled out one of the many disposable phones we kept in a cupboard on top of the refrigerator. I didn’t do it often, but once in a while I needed to check in with what I considered my reality. Sandor.

  “You know it’s four in the morning here,” he grumbled into the phone.

  “What, you sleeping in these days?”

  “Fuck, hang on.”

  I heard some rustling in the background, a female voice, and then silence.

  “You have company?” I asked when he came on the line again.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Where’s Casey?”

  “Home. Asleep, I presume. Joe’s got Chains with her. I needed a few days off.”

  “Sorry to disturb your vacation. Do you want to get back to…what you were doing?”

  “I was sleeping.” He chuckled. “So, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Leni has the flu, and Liz is out of town, but otherwise, all is well. How about on your end?”

  “Yeah. Things are…busy.”

  “Busy?”

  “Well, the band is in the studio finishing the album and—”

  “Casey’s new band. Pretty Harts?”

  “Yes. They released the single even though the album isn’t finished so they’re taking care of that and then they’re going to do a tour with limited dates. Casey doesn’t want to be away from her dad for too long at a time.”

  “He’s gotten worse?”

  “Not worse, just not better. The chemo gave him a little more time, but every round makes him weaker than the last and he’s tired of being tired. He told her this was his last round.”

  “How’s she taking it?”

  “She’s been looking into holistic options, but we’re not optimistic. She’s hanging in there for her mom, but we don’t think he’ll make it to Christmas.”

  “Shit.”

  “Luke is very attached to him.”

  No matter what, we never referred to him as my son, even if we were sure the line was secure.

  “Everyone loves Lucas,” I murmured sadly. I hated that he was going to die and even more that I couldn’t be there to see him one last time.

  “I’ve spoken to my brother,” he said, again not using names. “I believe there’s someone special in his life, but he hasn’t said much. He sounds good, though.”

  “I’m glad.” Daniil had left the hotel and was living in England now, with his new identity.

  “Things are bad in the homeland,” Sandor said after a moment. “The king has wreaked havoc on the people.”

  “I know.”

  “It pains me to think we live a life of leisure while the people suffer.”

  “Believe me, I think about it every day.”

  “Is this it? Is this what we have become?”

  “Every day, I look for an answer, a plan, the right allies… As soon as I figure out a way to make it happen, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that.”

  “It may be time to move on, you know? I’ve accepted my new life. I hope you have too.”

  “I’m getting there,” I
said quietly, though I didn’t want to expound on that. “Keep them safe, my friend.”

  “Always.”

  I really fucking hoped so because it didn’t look like I would ever be able to.

  32

  Casey

  Dad passed away in his sleep two weeks after Christmas, a week before Pretty Harts’ first album was supposed to release, with Mom asleep at his side. They’d been playing strip poker with Uncle Ben and Aunt Kari until after midnight, laughing until all of their sides ached. He’d taken something the doctor had given him to help him sleep, and sometime between two and seven in the morning, he’d drifted away. Mom woke up and said she’d instantly known he was gone. She came and quietly got me before calling his doctor. Arrangements had been made, because he’d wanted to die at home and not in a hospital or hospice. He seemed to have known he was done—she told me he’d actually kissed Ben good-bye last night, something he never would have done otherwise. The man who’d been born to rule an eastern European monarchy had bawled like a baby in the hallway, Aunt Kari and Mom looking on helplessly, everyone aware the end was near. Just not how near.

  While Mom dealt with the arrangements on autopilot, I had the job of telling Sasha, who was at the hotel with Nicky and Tricia. I walked into the Charleston as though I was sleepwalking, and took the elevator to Nick’s suite without thinking, Sandor hanging back in the hallway. I let myself in with my key and then stood there helplessly, confused about what to do next.

  “Nick?” I called out softly. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Nick? Where are you?”

  “Casey?” Nick came padding out of the bedroom in nothing but boxer shorts, running his hand through his tousled hair. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

  I looked at him and let out a soft whimper. “He’s gone, Nick. My dad’s gone.” I collapsed against him, burying my face in his shoulder.