Nowhere Left to Run (The Nowhere Trilogy Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “I’ve given you an incredible burden,” I said finally. “There’s no way I can ever repay you for what you’ve had to give up to take care of my family, but—”

  “It’s not a burden,” he said sharply. “It’s our legacy.”

  “But you’re angry.”

  “I’m frustrated. I can’t help her. I can’t help you. I can’t help our people. I watch someone I care about suffering for the greater good and I sometimes wonder what that is.”

  “You don’t believe in what I’m doing? What we’ve done?”

  “I believe in what you’ve done to protect Casey and the baby, but the rest… Where does it end? Are our lives over because of Anwar? How did this become our cross to bear?”

  “I don’t know.” I had no answers for that question. “Our bloodline makes us targets, and Anwar’s insanity makes this our burden.”

  “What of my brother?”

  “He’s good, settling in at the hotel as a limo driver.” I sank into a chair, bouncing the baby on my lap. “I think he actually enjoys it.”

  Sandor snorted. “Not hardly.”

  “He’s also signed on to the agency.”

  Sandor raised his eyebrows. “So we’ve gone from European royalty to international espionage?”

  “It seems that way.”

  “This feels like goodbye.”

  “For now.” I met his gaze. “I’ll always be there for you, but until we can find a way to change things in Limaj, this is our reality.”

  He sat in the chair across from me and we made small talk until it was time to go. I had him take a picture of me with Luke, holding him up in the air, his nose pressed to mine. I had to have something I could look at because it would have to last me a really long time. Maybe a lifetime.

  12

  Casey

  Nights were still the hardest time for me, when I would stare at the ceiling and long for the man I loved. I’d thought about seeing a grief counselor of some kind, but I didn’t know what they would do for me. I’d done a lot of reading and everything I was feeling was normal, so it seemed like a waste of time and money. More than anything, I was lonely. I had Nick and my parents, but without a band and with Jade so far away, it was hard to count on them every time I was down. Dad had his health issues to deal with and Mom had to take care of him while also helping me with Luke. Not that we couldn’t afford help, but she loved spending time with her grandson, and so did Dad. I couldn’t vent to Sandor because he shared a lot of my pain, which left me more alone than ever.

  I was dragging a little today, after another night of not nearly enough sleep, and I had Luke on my lap as I played an acoustic guitar. It was awkward, but he seemed to enjoy it and rested his little hands on the back, staring in fascination as I plucked the strings.

  “Hey, Casey?” Sandor stuck his head in the door of the room Nick and I called our office, where we both studied and kept our computers.

  “Hmm?” I looked up curiously.

  “There’s an attorney here to see you, says he can only talk to you, and that it’s urgent.”

  I frowned. “No idea what it’s about?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where Nick is?”

  “Nick is actually talking to him now but the man says he absolutely cannot discuss this with anyone but you.”

  “Well.” I got up and slid my feet into a pair of flats. “I guess I have to see what it’s about.”

  He carried Luke as we headed down to Nick’s office on the executive level of the hotel, where a balding man in his sixties was sitting in a chair. He looked up when I came in and frowned slightly.

  “Casey Hart?”

  “Yes.” I extended my hand and he shook it.

  “You’re younger than I expected,” he said briefly, opening a briefcase and removing a thick wad of official-looking papers.

  “Thank you?” I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  He gave me a wry smile. “You may not be thanking me.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and met my curious gaze. “I assume you know a Ms. Pamela Templeton?”

  “Yes. She’s a photographer. She shot the covers of both of our albums and went on part of our first tour with us.” I looked at Nick, who shrugged in confusion.

  “Did you know she has a child?”

  “Yes. A little girl named Sasha.”

  “Were you aware she left full custody to you in the event of her death?”

  “I… What?” I stared at him blankly.

  “That’s what I thought.” He dug out an average-looking white envelope and handed it to me. “This was to be given to you in the event of her untimely death.”

  “Is Pam dead?” I asked, my stomach clenching painfully. Too much fucking death. I couldn’t deal with any more. I really couldn’t.

  “Car accident.” He was so matter-of-fact he might as well have been telling me about the weather. “She died instantly. The child was at school when it happened, but it took Child Protective Services a week to find me and get information about custody.”

  I stared at the envelope as if unsure what to do with it.

  “What does the letter say?” Nick finally asked, coming to stand beside me.

  I tore it open and started to read.

  Dear Casey,

  If you’re reading this, something terrible has happened and I apologize for catching you off guard. I’ve been on my own a long time and, as you know, don’t have any family to speak of. Sasha has been the light of my life, but the truth—that no one knows except now you—is that she was a result of rape. I couldn’t stand the thought of her living with that bastard, and no one needs to know his name.

  It’s a huge favor I’m asking of you, but I can’t think of anyone I respect and trust more than you. The time we spent working together for the albums and on tour showed me the person you are, and it would mean the world to me if you would raise my little girl. Please don’t let her go into the system, I truly have no one else.

  If you decide to raise her, please destroy this letter. I don’t ever want her to know how she was conceived. Tell her it was a one-night stand and that I never knew the man’s last name. I trust you to do the right thing, my friend.

  All my love,

  Pam

  My mouth fell open and I turned to Nick. “What in the world…” My voice trailed off and he took the letter from me, reading it again.

  “Are you going to take the child?” the attorney was asking, looking at us intently.

  I frowned at him. “What, are you in a hurry?”

  “I’m paying a nanny to watch her in a room,” he responded. “So yes. If you’re not going to take her, she’ll go back to CPS and that’s a decision that has to be made immediately.”

  I didn’t know if I was coming or going with this situation, but I wanted to throat-punch this guy. What the hell was wrong with him? There was a child in question, one who obviously didn’t have anyone else in the world to take care of her, and he was worried about paying the nanny? Why were there people like this in the world?

  I gave him a glare of annoyance and snatched the letter back from Nick, stuffing it into my back pocket. “Where is she? I want to see her.”

  “Casey…” Nick looked conflicted.

  “Look, Pam entrusted her to me, and I have to make a decision, so let’s go talk to her.”

  “Have her brought up here,” Nick said to the attorney. Then he turned to me, pulling me aside and speaking quietly. “Are you sure you want to do this? When was the last time you saw Pam?”

  “When we played in L.A. last year… I guess it was about eighteen months ago. We had lunch and went shopping.”

  “So now we’re going to just adopt her kid?”

  “Do you suggest we let her go into the system?” I glared at him. “Look, let’s just talk to her, okay?”

  “Okay.” He looked doubtful but apparently unwilling to argue with me, which was a good thing because I had no intention of backing down.

  I k
new the moment I saw her I was going to take her. Her big brown eyes were sad and filled with trepidation. She clutched a well-loved stuffed animal—was that a manatee?—and looked up at me with a trembling lower lip.

  “M-miss Casey, are we going home now?” she whispered.

  I was relieved she remembered me since we’d only met a couple of times.

  “Hi, honey.” I squatted down so I was eye level with her. “Do you want to go home with me?”

  “Where’s my mom?”

  My eyes flew to the attorney. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “We did, but she doesn’t seem to believe it.”

  I looked at the little girl sympathetically. “You know your mommy was in an accident, right?”

  She nodded.

  “And sometimes when we get hurt, we don’t get better.” I reached out to take her chin and gently lift it. “Do you remember going shopping with me and your mom last year?”

  She nodded.

  “Your mom was my friend.”

  She nodded again.

  “She wanted you to come live with me if she ever got hurt and couldn’t go home. What would you think about that?”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks and she threw herself in my arms. “I want Mommy.”

  “I know, honey. I know.” I hugged her tightly, overwhelmed with my own emotions. I didn’t know what to do about this, but the idea of putting Pam’s sweet little girl in foster care made me sick. I wasn’t sure what had made Pam leave me as her daughter’s guardian, but now that it had happened, I was going to do my best. She was far too young to deal with this kind of heartache on her own.

  “I’m going to have my lawyer take a look at the papers,” Nick was saying to the attorney. “We’ll keep her here in the meantime. As long as the papers are legit, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

  “I assure you, everything is in order. Ms. Templeton had papers drawn up when Sasha was born and then revised them approximately eighteen months ago. She spoke highly of Ms. Hart and was intent on making sure her daughter was taken care of in the event of anything unexpected. Unfortunately, I was on vacation when the accident happened, so it took a while to sort out the situation.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Nick said, shaking his hand. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “Very good.” The man left the room and Nick turned to where I now had Sasha on my lap.

  “So,” he said with an indulgent smile. “I take it we have to decorate another bedroom?”

  I smiled back. “Looks that way.”

  I was in no way prepared to become the mother of a nine-year-old girl with a broken heart. I was angry at Pam for blindsiding me like this but she was gone and Sasha was here, which meant I had to step up to the plate unless I was willing to let her go, and I wasn’t. I couldn’t explain why, but I saw my own grief mirrored in her eyes and it ripped through me like a shockwave. My grief always bubbled just beneath the surface and the moment I’d looked into Sasha’s sad little face, I’d known she needed me. It was heart-wrenching and I had no idea where to start but Nick had the best idea that night after we got her settled in our bed since she refused to leave my side.

  “We need to find a child psychologist,” he said. “She’s distraught and I don’t think you and I are equipped to deal with her.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. “I keep wondering when it’s going to stop.”

  “What?”

  “My life exploding around me, day after day, month after month.”

  “It’s definitely been eventful.” He leaned back beside me, our heads side by side on the back of the couch. He turned to look at me. “We were always up for an adventure, you know?”

  “Is this what you signed on for, though?” I asked wryly.

  He shrugged. “It’s not not what I signed on for.”

  We chuckled.

  “I feel like I should apologize.”

  “Nah.” He reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. “We’re in this together. I’m not worried about it.”

  “You became a husband to a woman you didn’t love, a dad to another man’s baby, a student, a hotel manager, and now an adoptive father to a child that doesn’t belong to either of us…all in the space of a year. You sure you don’t regret breaking up the band?”

  He laughed. “I could use a drink, but no. I have zero regrets.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.

  He reached over and slid an arm around my shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. Trust me.”

  Someone else had told me to trust him once and it hadn’t worked out well for me at all. Somehow, I didn’t think I would truly trust anyone ever again.

  13

  Erik

  I’d promised I would immerse myself in my new life without looking back, but it was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever had to do. I was sitting in a classroom at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, listening to an instructor talk about CIA protocol, communication skills and project management. Most of it was more basic than what I’d learned at university, but apparently, they thought I needed to start from scratch. I was getting a whole new identity this week and my name was now Scott Baxter.

  It was ridiculous. I had a hundred names I thought would be better, but this was an identity and a profile they’d created just for me. So here I was listening to a lecture about the man I was about to become and what I needed to do to become him.

  “You look spectacularly unimpressed,” Liz told me when we met for dinner that evening. “Didn’t enjoy your first day?”

  “My new name is Scott Baxter. I’m an American citizen and I don’t have any family. I grew up in foster care.” I repeated the facts that had been pounded into my head all day.

  She grimaced. “Well, they could have given you a name like Poindexter or Hyman.”

  “I guess I’m grateful for that, at least.”

  She smiled. “Come on, don’t look so sad. Joining the CIA is going to be a good thing. You’ll see the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks. You’re going to be privy to the world’s best intelligence on Limaj and go about your life surreptitiously without having to worry about Anwar trying to kill you every five minutes.”

  “I know.” I unconsciously ran my hand over my head—looking for hair that was no longer there. “Jesus, I hate being bald.”

  “You’re still attractive,” she said. “Promise.”

  “I’m not worried about being attractive, I just want to be…me.”

  “You are dead.”

  Our eyes met.

  “What do we do now?” I asked quietly.

  “We can get married or not,” she responded slowly. “But I think it would make our lives easier. No one is going to be looking for you as the man married to Liz Kingsley, right out in the open.”

  “You’re close to your parents,” I said. “There’s no way you’re hiding this from your father.”

  “You’re right. But my father is an extremely powerful man and he’s not going to do anything to jeopardize your safety. My father knows almost everything that goes on, both from when he was involved with the mob, later when he was a senator, and now his…extracurricular activities.”

  “I thought your dad was like, eighty?”

  “He is. He’s also the most astute, active man I know that age. Believe me, my dad will help with this mess. He’ll probably even tell my mother how wonderful my new husband is.”

  I sighed.

  “I know. This isn’t what you wanted in life. It wasn’t at the top of my list, either, but after my fiancé was killed, I gave up on love. Now my job is the hotel and my next mission. Catching international terrorists and bad guys is what makes me tick, so I don’t have time for romantic entanglements. Eventually, I’d like to think sex could be part of our arrangement, but if not, I can find that anywhere.”

  I stared at her, trying to figure out who she really was. To date, she’d been a good friend and an unmatched ally. Sh
e’d saved both Sandor’s and my lives in Limaj and she’d helped Daniil rebuild his life as well. She was smart, loyal, trustworthy and attractive. If I couldn’t have Casey, I could wind up with a lot worse in a wife. But I didn’t love her. I couldn’t love her. I’d never love anyone else. Casey was my life and my light and the fuel for my soul. Without her, that part of me would be forever dormant. Damn, I wanted to kill Anwar yet again for putting me in a position like this.

  “You okay?” Liz was asking, watching me intently.

  “Just thinking about how the actions of one man put these changes in motion and now we’re here talking about a business arrangement for a marriage that neither of us is all that excited about. I’m sorry if that sounds bitter.”

  “Of course you’re bitter,” she said. “You think I’m not bitter about Ricky? We met in college and he was my everything. We were both on the CIA’s radar, but he owed the Marines four years first. So I finished college and then sat at a desk at Langley, waiting for him to finish his duty. But he never came home. It’s like a piece of your soul gets ripped out and even though you still keep going, parts of you are dead inside.”

  I nodded wearily. I sure as hell knew the feeling.

  “But how does this work?” I asked her. “We get married and…what?”

  “We keep doing what we’re doing, except we live together and wear wedding rings and everyone at the hotel knows we’re married. We’ll let the rest of the world in on it slowly. I’ll call my mother and tell her I did something crazy… If she insists on coming out here to meet you, you’ll need to disappear on a mission. Once I tell her you’re also in the CIA, it’ll make more sense to her and she won’t be as frantic about it.”