“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, fucking ever step 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.”
Myles whistled. “I’d back Crow against Satan himself.”
“Me too,” Jupiter said. “Baxter Badd is just…on a different plane of existence.”
“So if you met him again…?” Myles asked.
Jupiter waved his hand. “Ah, it was a fight, a paid fight. I’ve got nothing but serious respect for the man. He’s out of the fighting world now too, I guess. Running a gym up there, nowadays.”
The cockpit opened, then, and the pilots emerged, in matching captain’s uniforms. “We’re ready to go, Mr. North,” the male pilot said.
“All right guys, I gotta go,” Myles said. A chorus of goodbyes from the band, and then Myles ended the call. He gestured to me. “Captain Alan Murphy, and Captain Rebecca Callahan, this is Lexie Goode. She’ll be flying with us a lot in the future.” He eyed me. “I hope.”
We all politely ignored that, me especially—and I stood and shook hands with the pilots, finding myself impressed with the relative youth of the female pilot. “Pleased to meet you, Captains.”
The male pilot, Captain Murphy, gave the spiel. “We’re going to be taking off in a few minutes, but I’d like to thank you for the opportunity to work with you, Mr. North, and to assure you that you are in the best hands there are. We’ll be touching down in Seattle for a quick refuel, and then on to Ketchikan. We should have you on the ferry to Ketchikan by…oh, eight or so this evening. We have great weather and good wind, so we should make good time. If anything comes up, which I don’t anticipate, I’ll pop on over the intercom. Your seats all have buckles, including the couch, so please buckle up until we’re at cruising altitude. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to unbuckle.”
The takeoff was smooth, smoother than any commercial flight I’d ever been on, and we reached cruising altitude a few minutes later. I half expected Myles to make some sort of move to “break in” the plane, but he just hunted around for the iPad which controlled the lights and TV; he turned the lights down, turned the TV on, selected a
