ZAAN (Sidewinders: Generations Book 1)

by Kat Mizera

  Except she didn’t want me to even try.

  “I found a bodyguard,” she said, startling me back to the present.

  “Yeah?” That was a relief, anyway.

  “Casey hooked me up with a friend of hers who has a security and bodyguard firm. I’m going to meet the guy tomorrow. Will you be around to go with me? It’s in the afternoon.”

  “If you want me to.”

  She glanced at me. “You’re mad.”

  “Not mad. Frustrated. I want to help and you won’t let me even though you don’t want to go.”

  “It’s only two months, Zaan, and not only will it save us a buttload of money for me to just get it over with, it’s my responsibility. I signed that contract, so I have to do what I signed on to do, even if I’m not happy about it. Once I’m done with the tour, we can try to fight the remaining album and the year that’s technically left on the contract, but the amount of money it will take to get out of the rest of the tour is staggering. Like millions, and why would we want to start our lives together with that kind of debt?”

  “It wouldn’t cost that much to get a second opinion,” I said.

  “No, but it will probably take weeks for us to get an answer and I just want to get this over with. Please, can we not do this?”

  “Fine.” I was frustrated, but I didn’t want to fight, so I opted to let it go for now. I had a long day tomorrow and needed my sleep, and I probably wouldn’t sleep for shit if we had a fight before bed.

  I wasn’t playing that well right now, and I couldn’t afford to slip any more than I already had. There was a lot of pressure on us to win back-to-back championships but the chemistry wasn’t the same this year. We had some new guys we didn’t know very well, and the locker room dynamic had been a little off. It wasn’t necessarily bad—growing pains were normal in professional sports—but it wasn’t like last year. My own game was up and down, and while that was also somewhat normal, it was fluctuating a lot more than it had in years past.

  Instead of dropping off to sleep that night like I usually did, I tossed and turned. Apparently, a lot, because around two in the morning, Lexi turned onto her side and rested on one elbow, peering at me, curious.

  “You want to talk or would a blow job help?” she asked softly.

  I smiled, reaching for her. “Maybe both?”

  “I’m here to please.” She reached out to touch my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing specific, just not playing as well as I’d like to, thinking about you leaving, stuff like that.”

  “Is it my fault?” she asked softly. “Because I don’t want to get in your head in a way that impacts your game negatively.”

  “Baby, you live in my head, my heart, inside of me. That doesn’t change no matter what’s going on personally or professionally.”

  “But you’re distracted and it’s at least partially my fault.”

  “Not really. It’s just part of life. We’re adjusting to another new reality and it’s hard on both of us.”

  “Do you want to break things off?” Her voice was a tiny whisper and I stiffened.

  “Is that what you want?” I searched her face in the semidarkness.

  She shook her head vehemently. “Not even a little. But you seem so upset about me leaving again and I don’t want to be the reason you spiral professionally.”

  “What’s going on with my game isn’t about you. It’s part of being an athlete and I’ve been struggling this season, in general. It started before you and I got back together, but there’s no rhyme or reason for how I’m playing. I played a little better when we first got back together, but now it’s back to where it was a few months ago and I don’t know why.”

  “Is there anything you can do? Extra workouts? More practice? I don’t really know how it works.”

  “Yeah, I could spend some extra time on the ice, but I think a lot of this is in my head, letting the stress of the upcoming playoffs get to me.”

  “And I’m not helping.”

  “I guess not.”

  We were quiet for a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence between us.

  “I don’t want to make you miserable, Zaan. I love you too much for that.”

  “I know. And I love you for it. There’s a lot going on right now, and it’s mostly about me needing to get out of my own head.”

  “So maybe me being gone for a while will help, give you some quality time with the guys, like outside of hockey. You’ve been with me nonstop when you’re not working.”

  “Yeah, but I’m with them nonstop when I’m not with you.”

  “Just a suggestion. I know my creative juices get going when I’m around other musicians, like hanging out with Casey.”

  “I guess it’s worth a try.”

  I was absently stroking her hair, so I didn’t notice at first that she was pushing back the sheet and sliding down my body.

  “What are you—” I started to ask. Then she sucked me into her mouth and I forgot what we’d been talking about.

  We headed to the meeting with her new bodyguard the next day after I got home from practice. Chains’ wife, Emilie, was the manager of Club Inferno, as well as the mother of Jamie and Viggo’s children. My understanding was that Viggo and Emilie had once been married, before he fell in love with Jamie, and she’d had a baby with each of them. Now she was married to Chains and they had a baby together too. It sounded complicated to me, but since they all appeared happy, I tried not to get involved in other people’s relationships.

  I’d met Chains on many occasions, so our greeting was pretty casual.

  “Good to see you, mate.” Chains shook my hand after he introduced himself to Lexi.

  “Likewise.” I gave him a grin. “I’m glad you’re the one finding a bodyguard for Lexi. Those women she plays with in Special Kay are pains in the ass.”

  He nodded. “So I’ve heard. Anyway, this is Patrick Nolan, and he’s going to make sure they keep their distance.”

  “Hi.” Lexi and I both shook Patrick’s hand and then he and Chains sat across the table from us. Patrick was a bigger guy, but not overly so, and exuded confidence. I had no doubt he could protect Lexi, which made me feel a hell of a lot better.

  “You just tell me what you need and I’ll make sure it happens,” Patrick said amiably.

  “The biggest issues happen on the bus,” Lexi said. “The partying is nonstop and having them constantly trying to push their drugs and boyfriends on me gets old fast.”

  “Don’t give it another thought.” Patrick folded his arms across his chest. “That won’t be happening.”

  “And keeping them away from me in the minutes before the show starts. They’re always taunting me, trying to get in my face, and I need quiet time before a performance so I can get in the zone.”

  “Done.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “The rest of the time, there’s a lot of sleeping and traveling involved,” she said. “So it gets kind of boring.”

  “Do you play poker?”

  She chuckled. “A little.”

  “I can teach you to be better.”

  “Works for me.”

  They started talking details, like cost and per diems and such, and I tuned them out, happy that she would be protected, but the reality of her leaving starting to hit me harder than before. No matter how hard I tried to tell myself we’d get through it and then she’d be back here with me, my gut told me something else and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  15

  Lexi

  I planned a meeting with Casey, Tyler, and Bash two days later while Zaan was at practice. I had a ton of ideas for the album we’d discussed and couldn’t wait to share them with everyone. Hopefully, they’d share my visions and we could at least get the ball rolling before I left on tour.

  “Hey, girl.” Tyler waved as I walked into the studio where we were meeting. “Casey’s running a few minutes late, but Bash is on the way and Casey will get Jayson on v
ideo once she gets here.”

  “Okay.” I sank into the chair across from him.

  “How’s it going?” he asked. “I saw you had an interview on ZNN the other day about going back on the road with Special Kay. You handled it pretty well, considering.”

  “Thanks. I’ve tried really hard not to talk shit about them, though I’m sure they wouldn’t give me the same courtesy if roles were reversed.”

  “You take the high road, keepin’ it classy.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Hey, hey.” Bash walked in and I lifted my fist for a bump as he walked by.

  “Hi, guys.” Casey was right behind him and after a few rounds of greetings, she set up a laptop with a video feed so Jayson could join us.

  “Doing an album of covers is nothing new,” Casey said as we settled in. “But doing it our way, with a hand-picked set of musicians and songs we can have fun with, I think it could do well and be a nice springboard for you guys if you choose to do something going forward.”

  “We could call the album ‘Pretty Harts and Friends,’” Tyler suggested.

  “I like it,” Casey said, nodding.

  “Between Jayson and Lexi, the vocals would be on point,” Bash said, “and I have a few ideas of other musicians to invite.”

  “Stu Killorn,” Tyler said thoughtfully. “He’s badass on guitar and, as we all know, currently not working.”

  Everyone else chuckled.

  “Who’s Stu Killorn?” I asked, racking my brain to figure out who that was.

  “Old guitarist for Raging Willow.”

  “Ohhh…” My voice trailed off. “That guy. Isn’t he a piece of work?”

  “He’s actually not,” Tyler said slowly. “I mean, yeah, he has his moments, but he’s not what they made him out to be in the media. He made a mistake, for sure, but he did his time and now he’s out. Guy has to eat, and he’s talented as fuck.”

  “It’s risky,” Bash said, “but I’d be willing to talk with him.”

  “I’ve met him,” Casey said. “I thought he was funny and charming. A little crude and rough around the edges, but as we’ve said, he did a year in prison or something for what he did and paid his debt to society. I think it’s worth a conversation.”

  “I don’t know the whole story,” I said carefully. “I know there was a car accident, someone died, and he went to jail. I’m assuming he was responsible?”

  “Yes and no.” Casey was reading something she’d pulled up on her phone. “Okay, let’s see what it says online. There was a party. He and the band’s bass player went on a beer run in his new Ferrari. The accident itself was actually someone else’s fault, some guy who fell asleep at the wheel and jumped the median, but once Will Simons—Stu’s bass player—died, and the hospital announced that Stu was over the legal limit, he was charged as well. He got sixteen months but was out in eight for good behavior.”

  “Sounds like a terrible tragedy,” I said softly. “I’d be willing to meet with him, see if he clicks with us.”

  “I agree,” Jayson added.

  “Okay, I’ll reach out,” Tyler said.

  “What about Ford Malone?” I asked, abruptly changing topics again. I was thinking out loud, but the long-haired, bearded guitar player known as “Big Ford,” had been one of my idols for a long time and working with both him and Casey might be a dream come true.

  “Oh, that’s a good idea,” Casey said, nodding.

  We talked about other musicians for a while and then started discussing possible songs for the album. Since they would all be covers, we had infinite possibilities, but I had my heart set on one specifically, so I brought that up right away.

  “What if we did a cover of ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’?” I asked. “Everyone loves that song, and Jayson and I could do that one together. I already have ideas for the video to go with it…”

  “I love that song!” Bash said, nodding.

  “Oh, hell, yeah,” Jayson said with a grin. “I’m in. That’ll be a fucking blast to record.”

  “And for a video,” I continued, “what if we did one depicting exactly what the song is about? Something hot and sexy, two teenagers in a car, trying to decide if they want to get it on. The original video is a live performance by Meat Loaf, but we could do a concept video and really have fun with it.”

  “You should be in the video, Lex.” Bash fixed his blue eyes on me. “You’ve got a look people love. The videos we did that featured Casey always were more popular than the ones with random models or live performances.”

  “Oh.” I was taken aback. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I guess I could, if you guys think it’s the best idea.”

  “You’re definitely young enough and more than photogenic enough,” Casey said, “but we can talk about that later. Let’s focus on music for now.”

  “‘November Rain,’” I said after a moment. “With me on piano and Jayson singing.”

  “I like how she thinks,” Jayson said, nodding.

  “‘Unapologetic’ from Halestorm,” Bash said, looking at me. “I’ve heard you sing that when you’re just messing around and you’d kick ass and take names.”

  Tyler immediately started singing it, in his own deep baritone. Casey and Jayson joined in as Bash started hammering out the slower rhythm on the table, and I took their cues, singing a loose rendition right there with no practice, no warning, nothing but heart and soul. And it was fantastic.

  We all got more and more excited as we talked, hashing out our ideas as a group, and Casey eventually started taking notes. It was fun, the type of professional environment I’d always hoped I’d find. I hadn’t expected it to be in this situation, with these people, but now that it was happening, I could barely contain myself.

  “I’m going to take this to the record company,” Casey said a few hours later. “I think I can talk them into it because, frankly, there’s a lot of money at stake, but I can afford to buy them and the rest of Pretty Harts out of our current contract. If they don’t want to play ball, they’ll get nothing but a check from me. And while that might be a break-even point for them, it’s nothing compared to the potential of a new franchise that we might create with this project. It won’t have me in it, but it’ll have my stamp of approval, and I’ll always be available to make guest performances going forward.”

  “I’m going to reach out to Stu,” Tyler reiterated, since he’d said that before.

  “I can contact Ford,” Jayson said slowly. “We’re not friends, exactly, but we’ve crossed paths a few times, so if I reach out, he’ll probably respond, even if it’s a polite no.”

  “I’ll run point on this,” Tyler said, “since Casey’s busy incubating a new life and I know all the players. Once we start getting responses, I’ll text everyone, and depending on what answers we receive, we’ll schedule another meeting.”

  “According to this article online, Stu is from the U.K.,” I replied. “He was born in Scotland, but it doesn’t say whether or not he still lives there.”

  “I can find out,” Jayson said. “If he’s interested, we can lure him to Vegas.”

  “We have to make sure everyone understands that we’re working with a very convoluted timeline,” Casey pointed out. “I’m due to give birth in July, so anything I do has to be before then. Laying down tracks is simple for me, and obviously we can have studio time right here whenever we need it, but everyone has to be flexible because Lexi will be unavailable the next two months. Come fall, I’ll be back in Limaj, and at that point it gets a lot more complicated.”

  “We’ll touch base in a few days,” Tyler said, getting to his feet.

  “I leave on tour Sunday,” I said. “So I may have to join via teleconference, but I’ll do everything in my power to make this happen.”

  “Just focus on getting through the next two months,” Casey said gently. “Everything else will fall into place.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her, but what choice did I have?

  Za
an was making dinner when I got home and I walked up behind him, sliding my arms around his middle and resting my head against the spot between his shoulder blades. He moved back against me, angling his head so he could turn and kiss the top of mine.

  “Hey, beautiful. How was your meeting?”

  “Fantastic. I can’t wait to be able to work with them.” I turned restlessly. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

  “Sure.”

  I poured two glasses for us and handed him one as he stirred whatever was in the pan on the stove. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Chicken and broccoli stir-fry and brown rice.”

  “Does it bother you that I don’t cook?” I asked curiously.

  He chuckled. “Nah. I’ve taught myself a little beyond the basics and a few dishes I like that are healthy. The rest of the time I order out or live on protein bars and shakes.”

  “I mean, I can make pasta or fry eggs. But I’m not domestic at all.”

  “I’ve been cooking since I was a kid. My mom taught me because I was always gone doing hockey stuff and I’d get home late at night and be starving. She’s a nurse so she worked crazy hours and couldn’t always cook for me, so she taught me to do it myself.”

  I snorted. “My mother is more about lunching and shopping than cooking and baking. My dad taught me the little bit I know.”

  “I can teach you.”

  I smiled, leaning against him. “Maybe we could take some classes, like over the summer. You know, make it into a date night thing.”

  “That sounds awesome.” He leaned down to kiss me. “Makes me really look forward to the summer break.”

  “Hopefully, I’ll be here this summer.”

  16

  Zaan

  I paused, startled. “What do you mean? You should be done with the tour by the middle of May, no?”

  “Well, yeah, but there’s still the album we owe, which would mean being in L.A. for an indeterminate amount of time.”