Nowhere Left to Run (The Nowhere Trilogy Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “But which horse?” he asked softly, cupping my cheek. “Dating? Music? Life in general? You’re pulled in a lot of directions and I’m going to worry about you.”

  “I’ll only be a few miles away at my parents’ house. We’ll see each other at school, when you see the kids… You’ll only be a phone call away if I need anything.”

  “What about security? We have multiple levels with you living here at the hotel. Once you’re at your parents’ house, you’re open to a lot more scrutiny from the press.”

  “It’ll be okay. Really. The slutty rock star who got dumped by a prince isn’t on anyone’s radar these days. The press moved on to more timely stories and our divorce will be a blip on the entertainment news radar.”

  “I don’t like the idea of letting you down,” he whispered, his hands circling my waist.

  “You’re not. I’m leaving you, not the other way around.”

  “What does Sandor say?”

  “It’s none of his business. He goes where I go, and he and Joe are already on top of upgrading security at my parents’ house.”

  “Sounds like you figured it all out.”

  “The only questions remaining are about the kids. I need you to be Luke’s father.”

  “There’s no question about that. I’m going to be both his father and Sasha’s. I’m not dropping the ball when it comes to those kids. Or helping you parent them. Luke is pretty much mine now anyway… I watched him come into this world and he lays on my shoulder every night while I memorize chemistry formulas. I didn’t create him but he’s mine in every way that counts. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “Thank you.” Tears blurred my eyes and I threw my arms around his neck.

  “You don’t have to go,” he whispered against my ear, stroking my hair. “I vowed to take care of you and I will.”

  “It’s not fair,” I whispered back, stepping away slightly. “Our lives are going in different directions and as long as we maintain the friendship we’ve always had, it’s going to be okay. Really.”

  “I love you,” he said gently. “Maybe not the way we would have liked, in a perfect world, but the feelings are there.”

  “I love you too. But not the way you love Skye, or the way I loved Erik. And that’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” And maybe if I repeated that enough, it would happen.

  I said the words but as I unpacked that night, I wasn’t sure I believed them. Everyone was frustrated or upset with me, and while I understood where they were coming from, I was doing what I thought was best. I couldn’t live the way others expected me to. I never had and never would. I had to learn to live with my pain, with the loss I’d suffered, and somehow get past it. I couldn’t do that married to a man in love with another woman. At some point, I might have developed those kinds of feelings for Nick, but not now, not for a long time, and he was ready now. The odd thing was, I was okay with it. I’d had a few flashes of jealousy, but that was my personal insecurity and fear of being alone. And that wasn’t fair to any of us.

  I hung up a few pairs of jeans and momentarily lamented the loss of the huge closet I’d had at Nick’s. I could use the closet in Luke’s room too, since he didn’t need much right now, but I had to think about buying a house at some point. Not now, though. My parents needed me, and I would need my mom’s help with the kids. Sasha was a handful because of her grief, and I spent far too many nights rocking her when she woke up crying from nightmares.

  Marisol was coming with me, though, which was perfect. She would be here from seven in the morning until seven in the evening five days a week, though she would have time off in the afternoons when she needed it and we would be flexible with which days she worked. She’d been a godsend so far and I was grateful Tricia had found her for us. She’d been working part-time as a maid at the Charleston but had needed more hours and we’d been offering an excellent salary. Nick had insisted on putting the cost of the nanny in the divorce decree as his responsibility since we were both so busy and that worked for me. I’d made sure there was no alimony involved so it seemed like a good deal, even though I would’ve paid her myself.

  “How’s it going?” Mom stuck her head in the door. “Do you need help?”

  “Nope. I’m pretty much done.” I smiled at her. “Keeping the kids out of my way has been the biggest help.”

  “Your dad is taking care of Luke, and Marisol and Sasha just put a tray of brownies in the oven.”

  “Yum.” I grinned at her.

  She came in and sat on the bed. “What else can we do for you, sweetie? I feel like your dad and I have been so busy with doctors and chemo we haven’t been there for you.”

  “You’ve always been there for me and I’m fine. Giving the kids and me somewhere to live is the biggest lifesaver. We just have to figure out what to do with Sandor.”

  Mom laughed. “I could think of a few things if I was single.”

  “Mom!” I laughed too, shaking my head. She’d always said outrageous things like that, and had flirted with every male friend I’d ever had. It was simply her personality even though she was devoted to my father.

  “Right now, he’s going to be sleeping on the couch while we get the new system set up and the kinks worked out of it. I’m not sure what he’ll do after we get settled. We have five bedrooms, so we’re just going to give him the guest room, I guess. He has to have a little privacy, too.”

  “I know. I guess I feel bad, moving a stranger into your house.”

  “He’s not a stranger. He’s your bodyguard and Erik’s cousin and family to Ben and Kari. That makes him pretty much family.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. She reached for my hand.

  “I’m really proud of you, you know?”

  “You’re proud of me?” I stared at her in surprise.

  “You’ve been through so much in the last year and a half and you’ve handled it all. The press, the loss, the grief, becoming a mother twice, your band breaking up, going back to school, helping your dad open the new studio, and now even a divorce. You’re the strongest, most resilient woman I’ve ever known and I’m super proud to call you my daughter.”

  “Aw, Mom, thanks.” I hugged her tightly. “I don’t feel very strong.”

  “But you are.” She cupped my cheek. “No matter what happens, you’re a survivor.”

  “I have my kids to think about.” It was so odd saying kids, plural. I had one and now I suddenly had two, one of which was walking, talking back, and going to school.

  “You have to think about yourself too. You can’t be a good mother if you don’t take care of your own needs.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I hope you’re not talking about sex.”

  “No, not yet. I can see that it’s too soon for you, but if you and Nick didn’t sleep together, it’s been…over a year?”

  “Fifteen months.”

  “Around the eighteen month point you’re going to start needing it, and at two years you’ll be down for a one-night stand with the hottest guy you can find.”

  I managed a small smile. “We’ll see.”

  “Well, whatever you decide, and whenever it happens, remember Erik would have wanted you to be happy.”

  “I know.”

  “Mom, do you want to try one of our brownies?” Sasha stood in the doorway looking proud of herself.

  “Of course.” I got to my feet and followed her down the stairs. I had more important things on my mind than brownies, but if she’d made them, I would try one. Or two. My appetite seemed to be returning and I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I’d lost all the pregnancy weight and then some, but if I gained back too much, I wouldn’t be in performance shape.

  Performance shape.

  That was a joke.

  I didn’t have a band anymore.

  Shit.

  With a sigh, I dug into a brownie. Life as I’d known it was over, both personally and professionally. I wasn’t a rock star anymore and I wasn�
�t engaged to the love of my life. My priorities had shifted and it was becoming more and more clear as I was settling into this new reality. My focus was now my children, who desperately needed their mother to be happy and healthy. Even if I wasn’t that happy or healthy on the inside, I was getting there. I had to. There was nowhere to go but forward.

  18

  Erik

  We snuck into Limaj overnight in an unremarkable cargo van, with Ace and me sitting in the back while Liz drove. The asset the CIA had in country was at a safe house just inside the northernmost city in the country, Raggert, and we were meeting him there. Supposedly there would be a handful of those fighting against Anwar’s regime in attendance and though I was wary of being recognized, I was going to go with the baseball cap and dark glasses disguise since I had a beard now. I hated it, but Liz said it made me look like a rogue, which we’d both found funny.

  “Okay, this is the first test of your new look and identity,” Liz told me as we got out of the van, which we’d parked in the back. “Play it cool, don’t say much, and take in as much as possible. The natives won’t know we have someone fluent in the language in the room so that’ll be the best way to test the waters.”

  I nodded. For some reason, I wasn’t nervous. This was still my country and my people, no matter what Anwar was doing. I had faith that the majority of the people were inherently good and against the new regime. It was always a few rotten apples that spoiled the bunch, and I firmly believed that. Anwar simply had power and money, both of which could be abused to the fullest in a monarchy.

  We walked in through a back entrance and I immediately recognized faces, though I didn’t allow myself to react.

  General Sannaro was the first and I kept my eyes averted. No one was expecting me since, you know, I was dead and all that. He and I had been close once, though, so I’d have to be extra careful with him. I still didn’t know if he’d voted the way he had that day in Parliament because he’d been forced or because he’d switched sides, but hopefully I would find out now.

  “Good afternoon.” General Sannaro appeared to be in charge. “I am General Martin Sannaro. Thank you for coming. We are grateful to our allies in the U.S. and the CIA for sending us help.”

  “We’re here as a courtesy,” Liz said abruptly. “It’s not our policy to interfere in a civil war like this one, but the closed borders concern us.”

  “As they should.” He spread a map out on a table. “We are here.” He pointed to the city on the map. “All of this is now closed to this part of the country.” He motioned with his hand. “And we fear that supplies will run out within the next thirty days. Some farmers are okay, with their summer harvests keeping them going for a while, but others are not so fortunate. Those in the cities are cold and hungry. Food is running out and we’ve been told they’ve lost electricity in half the city. These aren’t farmers…they don’t have access to wood or tools to cut firewood or even a place to light one. They live in apartments and they’re starting to feel the strain. This is a humanitarian crisis and without electricity they have no access to the outside world.”

  “What can we do?” Ace asked.

  “We need to sneak in supplies. Food, medicine, extra blankets, perhaps batteries and portable chargers.”

  “That’s easy enough, in the grand scheme of things, but we can’t do this indefinitely. What’s going on with the war?”

  General Sannaro sighed. “The issues are complicated. The rebellion is trying to take over the monarchy and replace it with a theocracy. King Anwar thought they were his allies, but instead they’re trying to overthrow him. So now, those of us that want to remain democratic are fighting two wars. There aren’t enough of us to combat it, and with no one left in the royal family to fight Anwar…”

  “No one is qualified for a position of power?” I hoped like hell my new southern accent sounded okay, but he didn’t seem to give it a second thought.

  “Not that I know of. There are two females, cousins to the king, but Princess Skye has no interest in politics while Princess Elen is far too young and inexperienced. Even if she was willing, the country isn’t ready for a female ruler.”

  “Are we sure about their unwillingness to get involved?” someone I didn’t know asked.

  General Sannaro merely nodded. “Yes, we’ve spoken to Prince Benjamin, and he believes it’s not safe for them. Technically, Princess Skye is out of the running because of her father’s abdication, but Elen would be next in line. We’ve tried to reach out, but she either hasn’t received our missives or doesn’t want to respond. Most likely she’s been warned by the king’s uncle to stay away.”

  “Prince Benjamin would want to protect her,” Liz said easily. “And as you said, she’s not in any position to take on something like this.”

  “Which leaves us with no one.”

  “Daniil was never confirmed dead,” someone else said.

  Glancing in that direction, I recognized our ambassador to the U.K. Shit. I knew him well and he knew me. He was younger than most other ambassadors, just thirty compared to the majority, who were in their forties and fifties. His father was a distant cousin to the family and out of the eight children his wife had given birth to, only Jesper had survived. He was smart, good-looking, and ambitious. He was also gay and his father had worked hard to get him immersed in politics as soon as possible to cover it up. The post in England had been perfect but I hadn’t seen him since I’d left school, more than eighteen months ago. This was both good and bad.

  Good because Jesper was a stellar human being and a patriot. Bad because he’d always joked that he had a crush on me and would know my “cute ass” and dimples anywhere.

  I kept my eyes averted but he was checking me out carefully.

  “Princes Erik and Sandor have been confirmed dead,” General Sannaro said sadly. “Daniil is almost definitely dead, and if he’s not, he’s in hiding. If he shows himself, either the king or the rebellion will kill him.”

  “Is there really an anti-rebellion?” I murmured, glancing at Liz.

  “How did you know this term?” General Sannaro demanded.

  “We spoke with Prince Tariq before his death,” Liz responded, using my formal name because only friends and family would call me Erik. “He mentioned his hopes for an anti-rebellion to combat the rebellion combating the monarchy.”

  General Sannaro smiled. “Sounds like Erik. He was a good man with a promising future. I mourned his loss greatly. He should not have come back to Limaj.”

  “He loved his country,” Liz said softly. “He wanted to help.”

  “Yes, well, it was futile.” The older man turned away. “Anyway, the anti-rebellion is located there.” He pointed to another spot on the map and I nearly choked on the bottled of water I’d grabbed. The underground railroad Sandor had talked about.

  “What else is there?” Liz asked aloud.

  “It’s an old railway station,” Ace said, studying the map. “I’ve been there. Years ago. It was a CIA safehouse but we closed it. There were rumors it was taken over by the rebellion but we weren’t sure what was happening and I’m guessing it fell through the cracks.”

  “We should regroup there,” Jesper said. “Though we get our power here from a generator, we may not be able to fuel it much longer. The railway station is off the beaten path, long abandoned, and in an area the rebels most likely aren’t thinking about. Anything can change, but my contact there says they have power and supplies. I think we should make a supply run to Ferdinbrag and continue from there to Luftin, where the stronghold is located.”

  “We have resources in Turkey,” Ace said. “It’ll take a day to get them together.”

  General Sannaro nodded. “Excellent. We’ll be waiting.”

  “We’ll be back tomorrow evening,” Liz said, heading for the door.

  “We’ll be in touch with details,” General Sannaro called after us.

  “I’ll walk out with them,” Jesper said, following us.

  Oh he
ll. He knew.

  I walked behind Liz but he caught up to me. “Welcome home, Your Highness,” he murmured under his breath.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grumbled.

  “I’d know that cute ass anywhere.”

  Sonofabitch.

  19

  Casey

  Two years later

  I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree in music on a warm sunny day in May. Nick still had a year to go but I’d gotten credit for my real-life experience in songwriting, touring and concert performances, which had taken more than a semester off of my time. Coupled with two summers of full class loads, I graduated in record time. I was grateful because although I didn’t need the degree, I wanted it, and it felt good to have accomplished something beyond parenting, because that had been my entire life the last two years. I adored my children but restlessness had set in and I’d written so many songs I didn’t know if I’d ever have time to record and/or perform them.

  Nick and Skye were getting married this summer, so my graduation was more like a blip on everyone’s radar, but that was okay. I didn’t want a lot of fanfare; I was just happy to be done. The problem with graduating was I was now ready for a change. I’d starting house-hunting, but it was so comfortable living with my parents, I kept putting it off. Not touring anymore had cut into my savings account too, and while I still made royalties off of Viktim of Prey’s music, it was substantially less than what I’d gotten used to and I didn’t like the feeling of not making money. I was turning twenty-five soon and it was time for me to get back to the real world. I’d cocooned myself in the safety of my parents’ home and raising my children but I’d begun to realize that while it had been good for healing my battered soul, it wasn’t as fulfilling as I’d told myself it would be.

  My grief wasn’t as acute anymore, more like an annoying itch in the back of my mind, and boredom had begun to set in. It had become abundantly clear to me it was time to put myself back out in the world. PTA meetings and play dates and homework weren’t as satisfying anymore and Luke would start preschool in the fall. I had to find my way back to music because it was the one thing other than my kids that brought me happiness. I’d dabbled a little since I worked at the studio with my dad part-time, but it wasn’t the same as playing my own music or having my own band.