Page 13 of Goode to Be Bad
Myles shrugged. “I mean, it’s mine. But if we’re not touring and you need it, let me know. Better yet, I’ll make sure the charter schedule is shared with you guys so you can schedule your use of it. Tony is setting up a separate LLC for the charter, and I’m funding and expense accounting the operating costs. You’ll have to make official requests to use it so the schedule doesn’t get jacked up, but the jet is yours to use as much as you want. Just, you know, there’s only one jet and four of us, so we gotta just be respectful of that, you know?”
Brand nodded. “Nah, it’s cool, just wondering.”
“So when do we get a ride on it?” Jupiter asked.
“Well, I’m taking Lex to Alaska to see her family before we take off on the overseas leg. We got two weeks before the first date in Tokyo, so we’ll fly there together for the inaugural band flight. We’ll fly out of LAX and I’ll get you the schedule as soon as its fixed, but I figure we’ll hit up Tokyo for some fun for a few days before the show.”
Zan, then. “I got a question.” His eyes were closed, and I saw a tendril of smoke wafting across his square of screen. “We ain’t, like, gonna end up like…like fuckin’—like Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly, or John Denver, or Stevie Ray Vaughn? Are we? ’Cause all of them died in plane crashes.”
There was a chorus of groans from everyone else. “Jesus, Zan, way to kill the celebration, dude,” Brand said.
“No, we’re not,” Myles said. “I hired two of the best, most experienced, most overqualified pilots anywhere in the world. They’re dedicated entirely to this plane and to us. They rotate shifts so neither of them is ever flying more than the regulation number of hours. They’re assuring me they personally check the aircraft before every flight, and I’m paying extra to have mechanics at every stop go over it, wingtip to wingtip, nose to tail. Because, fuck that, I am not dying in a goddamn plane crash, Zan, and neither are you or any of us. But it’s a good question.”
Their conversation wandered after that, the way a conversation between four men who spend every waking minute together for months at a time tends to do.
Then a silence fell over the conversation.
“Man, can I just say it’s fuckin’ weird, not having Crow in on this?” Jupiter said. “I miss his cranky ass.”
Myles’s face shuttered. “I do, too. It won’t be the same without him, but he’s got a good thing going up in Alaska. I know he misses you guys, and if he hasn’t said it, I’ll say it for him—go up and visit him.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Matter of fact, executive decision—from here on out, every tour leg ends in Alaska, so we spend a good week or so with Crow and Charlie. I guess the crew up there is huge, and from what Crow says, they know how to fuckin’ party.”
“Crew?” Zan again. “What crew?”
I laughed and said, “This is going to sound a bit crazy, but my sister Cassie is dating a guy up there who’s…shit. I don’t know, honestly. It’s complicated, and I don’t know any of them. I just know my mom is dating this guy who has triplet sons, and those triplets have cousins who own a pretty famous bar in Ketchikan, and there’s eight superhot brothers who all have these superhot girlfriends and wives…it’s this whole thing. There’s a Facebook page about them, and one of the brothers is dating or married to Harlow Grace, and there’s a pair of twins dating twins, and one of the twin couples is the music group Canary, and…” I sighed. “Cassie is all, like, ‘you arepart of the family’now, and Charlie and my mom are saying the same thing.”
“You sound annoyed,” Jupiter said.
Damn his observant ass.
I shrugged. “Not annoyed, just weirded out. Like, my mother and two of my four sisters are all ensconced in this new ‘clan’ whom I’ve never met. It’s just weird and I don’t know what to expect.”
“A whole big family to click into,” Myles said, eying me. “Sounds like a good thing from where I’m sitting.”
“Canary? I love Canary,” Zan piped up. “Bishop’s Pawn was the shit, too. I know those guys. I played in this band in San Francisco before I joined you guys, and I played at this dive bar with Canaan and Corin. Those dudes are wicked talented.”
I threw up my hands and laughed. “Everybody knows them except me! It’s crazy.”
Jupiter was chewing on something. “You’re talking about the Badd family. Baxter Badd used to…” he trailed off. “Well, that’s a different story.”
Myles seized on that. “What? What aren’t you saying?”
Jupiter was uncomfortable. “Years ago, before I was in the IFBB, I was just this aspiring bodybuilder. Broke as shit, is what I was. So, to make ends meet, I’d do underground fights. I was big and I grew up rough, so fistfights were daily for me, and I came across this guy who told me I could make a grand in one night whether I won or lost.” He shrugged. “Turns out I was good, damn good. Won most of my fights.”
Myles blinked. “Holy shit, Jupe. Why the hell is this the first I’m hearing of this?”
Jupiter shrugged again. “I’m not ashamed of it, but it’s not something I advertise. For one, they’re illegal as fuck. Two, I’m already kind of a scary guy, and if folks find out I used to beat the shit out of other guys for money in underground bareknuckle boxing matches they’ll probably end up making assumptions. I just don’t advertise it.”
“Holy shit.” Zan was laughing. “No wonder I’m scared of you, Jupe.”
“You’re scared of me because you weigh a buck-fifty soaking wet, and I could break your arm with one hand.”
Zan nodded seriously. “No shit. You could. I thought Bax played football, though?”
“He did that too, but had to quit or something. I don’t know the story.” Jupiter paused. “I just know I demolished everybody I ever fought…except Baxter Badd. That motherfucker was faster than lightning and hit like a fuckin’ freight train. He tore me a new asshole and wasn’t even sweating. I fought him six rounds, but by the end of that fight I was just…a bloody wreck. Couldn’t see, lip was busted, missing a tooth, and then he broke one of my ribs and that was it. Worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life was when he went in for a second hit on my broken rib—didn’t know it was broken, either of us. Until he hit me again and I fuckin’…I went down like a sack of bricks. No chance of getting up. I’d done him pretty good, but he was the clear winner. And I’m just saying this to you guys, but he’s the only person on the planet you couldn’t pay me any amount of money to ever, fuckingeverstep into a ring with again.”
“That bad?” Myles asked.
Jupiter’s eyes were wide. “You don’t fuckin’ know, man. He was a one-man wrecking machine. I wouldn’t want to put money on Crow in a fight between those two, is what I’m saying.”