Finding Love's Wings

by Derrick, Zoey

  "Whatever it is, we can handle it."

  "Right. Well, yeah, I suppose we can, though you might want to get Cami in here first."

  My brow creases. "Why?"

  "It involves her, too."

  "What involves me?" Cami's voice is clear and coming from behind me.

  I turn to look at her and she looks utterly amazing. Her hair is up, curly and swept to the side. Highlighting the blue streaks across the top. Over her left ear is a purple flower. Her makeup is subtle but beautiful, and her skin reflects the glow of the sunset outside. She's wearing a purple halter top that matches her purple pumps perfectly. Her legs are clad in white skinny jeans that accent the curve of her hips. My mouth falls open like a drooling fool and she stares back at me.

  "You like?" She smiles a seductive, secret smile and turns around.

  I hear my sharp intake of breath. The back is open except for a silver chain keeping the two halves together, and it's immediately evident that she's not wearing a bra. Her corset is strung with white and purple ribbons. It's impossibly hard to pull my eyes away from her sexy, nicely rounded derriere that my hands twitch to caress. The twitch in my pants is all the proof I need that I'll never get enough of this beautiful woman.

  "I..." I stutter through my response. "I—I think you look amazing," I finally manage to sputter.

  Her smile is warm and genuine.

  She finally looks away from me and toward Tyson. "What's going on, Ty?" she asks, real concern coloring her tone. I turn to face Tyson expectantly.

  "We had a large group of about eight women check into the hotel about an hour ago. They were asking for the penthouse suite, and one of the women threw a ginormous fit when the concierge told her it was currently occupied."

  I interrupt him. "What exactly does that have to do with us?"

  "Mike was in the lobby when all of this was going on. He was unable to see who was causing the altercation; however, it was not the woman arguing that caught his attention. Two of the women appeared to be bodyguards, dressed in black, standing back in a semi-protective stance from the woman throwing the tantrum."

  "Okay," Cami interrupts this time. "So it's someone famous. Or at least someone that feels the need to be protected. What exactly does that have to do with Tristan, or myself for that matter?"

  Tyson takes a deep breath, "I'm getting there." He shudders. "Mike sent a cell phone picture to Sasha, wanting to know if she could identify either of the bodyguards." Tyson has turned back into Mr. Professional.

  "And? Did she?" Cami asks Tyson.

  I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.

  "Yeah, Sasha knows one of them. They used to work together."

  "Well?" Cami barks.

  I find my voice. "It's Chanty, isn't it."

  I feel Cami stiffen immediately. When her voice comes, it's lower than a whisper. "Layla."

  For fuck's sake, how in the hell does this happen? First, the main reason for fleeing to Tarah shows up in the form of Cami, and now the real reason I ran shows up in living color.

  Dammit all to hell. Cami is not going to put up with this insanity, I know it. Why should she?

  Cami manages to pull herself together far faster than I can even begin to comprehend. "What impact is this going to have on us? Our guests arriving? Travis?"

  Jesus, she's not running?

  "None, if I can help it. We can maintain radio silence from within the hotel. Though I suggest making contact with Trinity. Fill her in."

  My head snaps up. "We will do no such thing. I can handle this, and if I can't, then I have complete faith in Cami's ability to handle this."

  "Uh..." she stutters. "Tristan, I..."

  She has so much self-doubt about her abilities. I need to find a way, some way, to help her see that she can handle this if the need arises.

  "Cami, if it comes to it and we need to call Trinity, we will. But right now, Layla blowing my location blows her own. No doubt she's here for similar reasons as both of us. She's not going to go running to the press."

  I turn to embrace Cami and she has a very leery look in her eyes. Looking down at her I say, "You asked me today to trust you, said that you’ve never given me a reason not to. So I'm trusting you, and trusting your ability to handle this if the need arises."

  She smiles slightly and nods. "All right, Tristan, I will do what I can, if it becomes necessary."

  "That's my baby-girl," I say, caressing her back.

  "What does this mean for me?" she asks Tyson, pulling back from me but not letting go of my waist. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, holding her close.

  "It only means anything if she knows who you are. The likelihood of that is relatively slim." Tyson is cool and professional.

  Cami nods and moves to sit down on the couch.

  I'm anything but cool, calm, and collected. What kills me the most is that I'm trapped within these four walls when right now I want nothing but to flee the room. I feel so lost. Cami and I have come so far, only to have Layla come between us after all.

  I've started pacing the room without fully realizing that I'm doing so. Cami sits silently on the couch, staring down at her hands, lost in her own thoughts. I have to find out what's in her head.

  I cross the room and kneel down at her feet. She doesn't move to look at me, but she also doesn't move away. I turn to Tyson and nod toward the door. He nods back at me and leaves the room.

  "I want to touch you, to hold you, but I'm afraid you're going to reject me," I whisper.

  I look up to look into her eyes and I see tears forming in the corners. Not spilling over just yet, but I know they're close. I reach out tentatively toward her to cup her face. When my fingers reached her cheek she leans into my gesture. My heart soars. I use my thumb to stroke away her tears.

  She looks up then, staring at me. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily."

  I gasp. She brings her hand up to mine against her cheek, pressing to hold me there.

  One sentence is all it has taken for me to want to admit that I love her. I love this woman. I have fallen in love with Cami.

  I open my mouth to tell her, but before I can speak her eyes grow wide, and in a very small voice, almost like I'm not meant to hear, she says, "I was scared that I was the only one."

  I cup her face in both my hands. When our lips meet, I'm lost to sensation, to the warmth in my heart spreading throughout my body. My love for Cami bringing me back to life. I know in this moment that I will die without her. I need her like I need air to breathe, water to drink, and food to eat. I know I will do anything for her, including forego my career in favor of our love and our relationship.

  My kiss becomes more demanding, but just as sweet and sensual. I put into it every ounce of the love I feel for her. Cami is my angel. She is my saving grace and my guiding light.

  PART THIRTY-FOUR

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  Tristan, Mike, and Tyson are all waiting patiently in the sitting room for everyone to arrive, but I can't sit still anymore.

  Layla is somewhere downstairs, hanging out with her girlfriends, doing God knows what, and I have this awful feeling that this is not going to end well. Having all of this coming down around me is something I know that I need to get used to. It's a part of who he is. I try hard to tell myself this.

  I've wandered out onto the deck near the pool, overlooking the beach below. The sun is well below the horizon, but there is still a faint blue glow in the distance. It’s something I've noticed the last couple of nights on the beach.

  Despite the darkness, I can still see a few people milling about on the beach in the light of the moon and the hotel. There is a group of women about twenty to twenty-five yards from Blu's deck. From this distance, it's impossible to tell who's down there. It could be Layla and her group, or someone else entirely.

  Off in the distance, I hear the whooshing of helicopter blades. Looking in the direction of the sound, I see two red lights and one white search light heading right
toward me.

  "They're here," Tristan says from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see him walking in my direction.

  "Stop," I say, and his face falls. "There's still a group of about eight women down on the beach. I don't want them to see you."

  He shakes his head at me. "It's impossible to see up here from down there."

  I smirk at him and close the distance between us.

  "Hey, beautiful," he says as he grabs my arms to pull me in closer.

  "Hey beautiful yourself," I say, and he smiles.

  The helicopter is getting louder and closer, but rather than descending to the helipad below, it's rising. We both watch as the helicopter makes its approach. I look in the direction of the roof and see that there are lights shining on top of the hotel.

  "There's a helipad up there?" I ask Tristan.

  "Yup, that's where they're headed. Tyson redirected them so that they can come into the hotel undetected. Well, sort of."

  The wind picks up and my hair starts flying around. Tristan pulls me toward the door to the suite. I reluctantly follow, mesmerized by the way the helicopter moves.

  Inside, Tyson is talking to Jessie, the bartender from Blu.

  "Hi, Jessie," I say. My tone might be a little too friendly because Tristan stiffens a bit.

  "Hi, Cami." He walks toward me, hand extended, and we shake.

  Then he turns to Tristan. "Mr. Rubble," he says. Tristan and I both laugh, and Tristan takes his hand.

  "I trust that you know full well who I am?" Tristan asks. His brief moment of jealousy seems to be forgotten.

  "I do, Mr. Michaels. However, we like to afford our guests as much privacy around here as possible."

  Tristan nods. "Great. Then feel free to call me Tristan. But only while we're in this suite, if you please?"

  "No problem. Where would you guys like me to set up?"

  "How about the patio, near the table? I believe we will be dining al fresco this evening."

  "Perfect. I'll have drinks flowing in a just a couple of minutes. Would you two like your usuals?"

  I smile at Jessie. He sure knows how to make us feel welcome. "I will. Tristan?"

  "Beer for starters, thanks, Jessie."

  Jessie nods and off he goes. I lean in toward Tristan's ear. "Relax, love. All is well and I’m just being friendly. No flirting, Okay?”

  "I know, just habitual." He leans in and kisses me. Softly at first, but soon we forget that Mike and Tyson are in the room with us and it turns passionate. My head starts to swim. My arms wrap around his neck and my hands grab fistfuls of his hair.

  "Get a damn room, would you two? Jeez, we're not even in the door and ya'll are already making out."

  I know this voice immediately. My lips still locked with Tristan's, I turn him so that I can see over his shoulder. I open my eyes and wink at Beau. A huge smile spreads across my face, bringing an end to the kiss.

  Tristan growls.

  "And you wonder why I call you Bear," I tease him.

  He growls playfully again and I release him.

  No sooner are my arms free than I'm engulfed in hugs from Beau, Jolene, and Naomi.

  "Gah! I missed you guys!"

  "Apparently I wasn't much of a distraction," I hear him huff.

  "You are the best distraction," I say to him from within the circle of bodies.

  Finally the girls release me and Mick wraps his arm around me.

  "Tristan Michaels, meet the one and only Mitchell Bast," I say.

  Beau laughs. Mick hates to be called Mitchell. He tightens his arm around me, a playful, unspoken threat to squeeze until it hurts.

  "Fine, fine. Whatever, Mick. Mick Bast."

  Tristan laughs and extends his arm. Thank God Mick has to let me go to shake his hand. I squirm out of his grasp and take in the sight of my three best friends.

  Naomi is still short, sassy, and extremely sexy, but she now has a big streak of purple in her platinum blond hair.

  "Purple, huh?" I ask. Naomi nods. "I like it."

  Just then, Travis – though I've never met him, I wasn't born yesterday – comes over and wraps his arm around Naomi's shoulder, and she blushes bright red. Evidently they've already become acquainted.

  I extend my hand to him. "Pleasure to meet you, Travis."

  Tristan laughs and I look in his direction.

  "Pleasure to meet you, Travis," he repeats, mocking my English accent.

  "Har-har!" I glare at him. "Hi, sista!" I say to Jolene, who has also changed her hair. "How are you?"

  "I'm great. You look amazing! Getting some sun I see."

  Tristan snorts and Jolene laughs. After a week in the sun I'm still pale as a ghost.

  "Very funny, you two. You dyed your hair red. What on earth for?" I giggle.

  She shrugs. "Something different. I wanted to try being a redhead."

  "Well that puts a damper on my plans," I say teasingly.

  "If you're referring to the sexy man over there in the corner staring at me," – I look over my shoulder and sure enough, Tyson is all but drooling at the sight of Jolene; my insides start bouncing with glee – "then I don't think you have much to worry about." I laugh, she’s probably right.

  "Hi, sexy!" I say to Beau.

  "Hi yourself!"

  Tristan laughs. "Now I know where you got it from."

  Beau laughs too. "No, I stole it from her."

  I introduce my friends to Tristan, Sasha, Leroy, and Mike, and then we split up so the new arrivals can get settled in their rooms.

  The phone rings. Mike is quick to grab it. "Dinner is coming up," he says. Perfect timing.

  After an amazing dinner, we are all sitting around the table on the patio. Jessie is on top of everyone's drinks and we all seem to be getting along well. Everyone is talking, laughing, and having a good time. Travis is a riot of jokes and laughter. He about had me spewing Cosmos all over the table. Tyson and Jolene are talking quietly, and something tells me that Travis and Naomi will be sharing a room this entire trip. I'm in complete awe of the fact that neither Travis's or Tristan's celebrity has had any bearing on the conversation. I'm relieved that no one's mentioned Hollywood or the stories that broke this week.

  Suddenly Tyson is interrupting us with this horrified look on his face. I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up to answer the phone until now.

  "What's doing, Ty?" I ask. Tyson's expression lightens a bit as he looks from Tristan to me and back again.

  "Someone is requesting access to the penthouse via the elevator on the seventh floor," he says. I can tell he's fighting to keep his voice calm.

  "Who is it?" I ask, but the phone starts ringing again. Tyson looks from me to Tristan and then turns on his heel and strides quickly into the sitting room. I see him square his shoulders and stand just a little bit taller as he shifts from relaxation mode to business mode.

  I call after him, "Ty, just let Leroy handle it and come back to the party." He stops mid stride and I watch as his shoulders visibly relax.

  Leroy picks up the phone.

  Tyson has turned around and is now looking intently at Tristan. "I'm not sure letting her up here is such a good idea. We don't know what her intentions are."

  My heart sinks into my stomach and I feel Tristan stiffen, tension instantly rolling off of him in waves.

  "I'm sorry, she's mistaken. There's no Mr. Jackson in this suite."

  Travis! I scream in my head.

  I stand up and make a beeline for the sitting room. I reach Leroy and put my hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little.

  "Let her up," I whisper in his free ear.

  He raises his eyebrows at me and mouths, "Ma'am?"

  "It's all right. She's just going to keep trying if we don't let her up. Let her up. I'll handle this."

  "Ms. Enders says let her up," Leroy says into the phone.

  I sidestep Leroy and begin making may way toward the foyer. Sasha steps into the hallway ahead of me. "She does not come past the foyer," I say to Sasha. "Keep
her at the elevator." I'm thrown off internally by the authority in my voice. Now that Tristan's pointed it out to me in reference to dealing with Trinity and Vincent, I'm beginning to recognize it.

  I feel something grab my elbow. Tristan pulls me around to face him. "What are you doing?" He's pissed.

  "Getting rid of Layla before she causes a scene bigger than we have the ability to handle." His eyes are cold, angry, and distant. In response, I get calm. "Tristan, if I don't squash her now, she'll be bugging us all night long. I want to enjoy my evening. Please, let me handle her."

  "Oh no you don't, Cami. I will handle her."

  I vigorously shake my head at him. "Like hell you will, Tristan. She has no clue that you're here. She thinks that Travis is here and might know where you are. She's fishing for information, so let me handle this. She doesn't know me from Eve. Sasha is here. Mike can come with me or stand by if necessary." My words are finally starting to register and his gaze softens.

  "All right," he says. "I trust you."

  The words coming from his mouth have me shaky and turning to jelly.

  He leans in and kisses me. When our lips meet, my hands immediately force their way into his hair and I pull him hard and tight against my body, kissing him back with ferocious intensity.

  Someone clears his throat behind me. "She's here." It's Mike.

  I peel myself away from Tristan and look him square in the eye. "I've got this, baby. Please." He nods.

  I turn around and Mike is between me and the hallway. As I walk around him I whisper, "Stay close." I get closer to the door and I can hear two women in a slightly heated confrontation. One voice I easily recognize as Sasha's. The other, I know, has to be Layla.

  PART THIRTY-FIVE

  When I open the door, the bickering immediately stops. One word rings out, "Travis," and it comes from Layla.

  "Who's Travis?" I ask, looking directly at her.

  She looks exactly the same as in the photos from my Internet search on Tristan, only in the flesh. Her chestnut-colored hair is curled slightly. Her dark brown eyes look almost black in the light of the foyer. She's standing near the elevator, seeming a bit flustered.