One of the Renegades. She was pretty sure Troy had told her he was their best stunt driver. He greeted her with a big, warm smile. “Great to see you, Ellie. I saw you briefly in the hospital, but you were sleeping. I was hoping Troy would bring you around, but he’s pretty damned selfish. Hope you weren’t here for him. He just left.”
Her mouth dropped open. Her heart plummeted to her feet. “What… Where…”
A cute little redhead who seemed to bounce when she walked strolled up to the group, peeped out a “Hi” for the security guard and Giselle before offering a piece of paper to Wes. “Here’s Troy’s ticket. His flight leaves in two hours. It’s changeable and refundable, so if he’s not done here, I’ll just, you know, fix-a-roo it.”
Giselle’s mind tangled again. Was Troy here or gone? If he was gone, where did he go? And why?
“Damn it, Treena,” Wes said, a grin on his face. “You ruined my prank.”
Her brows shot up, and she tapped the ticket twice with her pencil. “Then I guess you should plan better next time.”
Then she bopped away.
“What’s going on?” Giselle pressed a hand to her tripping heart.
“I was just messing with you. Gonna have to get used to it around here. Keep your guard up. I’ll do better next time. Troy’s out playing on the side of the building. He’ll come in when he gets hungry or cold…or he finds out you’re here. Until then, you can watch him on the monitors.” He turned and put an arm around her shoulders. He walked Giselle toward a big flat screen, where a figure in black hung on the side of the building, lit up by spotlights. “Or, you can watch him out there.”
Wes pointed toward the side of the building, where a circle of light cut through the night and illuminated Troy outside the building. Just…hanging there. His hair was trying to blow out of its restricted style, and his expression was serious, intense, focused.
A lick of panic made her grab a handful of Wes’s tee. “What’s he doing?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she yanked his shirt, dragging them around to face each other, and demand, “What…is he…doing?”
Wes gripped her shoulders and met her gaze. “His job. This is what he does. This is who he is. If this isn’t the man you want, if this isn’t the man you can accept and love, go back to the airport, Ellie.” His voice was direct, but level and compassionate. “No one should ever have to settle for being loved for less than his or her true self. That’s the woman Troy loves in you. He deserves no less.”
She held Wes’s steady blue gaze. Around them, movement whipped up. The director and Troy spoke over the radio. “You called me…Ellie.”
Wes’s mouth tipped up in a confused smile. “Isn’t that your name?”
The scope of her world shifted from telephoto to wide view. She saw Wes as just one of the people she would be accepting into her life by loving Troy. Her mind flickered through all the others whom he’d told her so much about—Jax and Lexi, Josh and Grace, Rubi, Rachel…it was such a big family that just kept growing. People who would welcome her into their circle based solely on her importance to Troy. The full realization of what Troy had been trying to give her—not just his love, but the love of a family, a community…
She’d come back for Troy, but she could clearly see she’d be getting so m
uch more.
A smile broke out across her face. Tears filled her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Oh Christ. Don’t cry. If he thinks I made you cry, I’m going to lose some teeth.” He turned, wrapped his arm around her shoulders again, and pulled her close to his side, walking her toward the set. “Come watch your man in action, El. This is gonna be great.”
“All right, we’re ready to go in here.” The radio-roughened voice came over an open line on a speaker somewhere. “Troy?”
“I’m not feeling much like Cruise out here.” His voice came over the radio sounding subdued. “Could use some Mission Impossible music.”
“All right, everyone,” Wes yelled. “On three. One, two, three— Dun, na-na…dun, na-na…dun, na-na…da-dun-na…”
Everyone joined in, and the room filled with the improvised Mission Impossible theme song. Giselle bubbled with laughter that rose up quickly and ended just as fast. She wanted to feel the same excitement, the same thrill filling everyone here, surely filling Troy. But she was still adjusting to the reality of him a thousand feet off the ground held up by nothing but cables. And as the crew rounded up their chorus with a vibrant finish and a round of applause, Troy’s laugh sounded scratchy over the radio, but definitely less than exuberant. “I feel clearer already.”
Troy’s reference to Scientology made everyone in the crew roar with laughter.
The warmth filling the room, the way the crew came together to support each other, to support Troy, filled Giselle in a way she couldn’t quite say she’d ever known. A way she may have experienced for a short time way back, when it was her and Troy and Nathan against the world. The joy that this filled Troy’s daily life, the satisfaction, the sheer and deep gratitude swelling inside her, made it hard to breathe and choked off her words.
“Okay,” Wes said, his smile soft, blue eyes warm. “I’ve got to get over to the window to drag his ass back in after this take. You hold this.” He handed her the airline ticket. “Good thing Treena went for refundable. Doesn’t look like he’ll be needing it after all.”
She caught Wes’s arm, and when he looked back, she smiled, nodded. “Thank you.”
“Always.” He pulled his arm from her grasp until their hands met, and gave hers a squeeze. “Always.”
“Wes, get on deck.” The director’s voice pulled Wes away and drew Giselle’s gaze to the window. To Troy, illuminated in the spotlight. “Let us know when you’re set up, Troy.”
Giselle glanced at the ticket and read the destination: Las Vegas. Her heart hicupped, but she couldn’t get too excited. He’d been working there too. This didn’t mean he’d been going after her. She curled the paper into her palm as, outside, Troy planted his feet against the glass, took one of the several ropes in his gloved hands, and said, “All right. Now or never.”