He slid to a stop as he looked over the edge of the building. Cy was twenty-six floors up and it looked as if the bank building was two or three stories below. What worried him was the distance across. Below him, cars were so small and people looked like ants. Having heard the gunfire, people were standing at the far end of the street with their heads leaning back. He couldn’t worry about them. He looked across the wide alley and took another deep breath. It was now or never.
He turned around, jogged back a good way, and then turned back toward the edge of the building. He pushed off in a full sprint. His arms sliced through the air as they pumped, urging his body to go faster and faster. If he didn’t have enough speed, he wouldn’t make it over the alley.
He kept his eyes on the building behind the one he intended to land on in order to gauge where he needed to aim his jump, since he wouldn’t be able to see the shorter building until he hit the edge. He stretched his stride and released the adrenaline he had been trying to control. The extra burst prevented him from hesitating when his foot landed on the lip of the building.
Cy reached for the sky and then swung his arms downward as he leapt off the building without a second thought. It was if he were in slow motion. He felt his feet leave the solid rooftop below him as he soared into the air. It was both somehow freeing and oppressive at the same time, as the adrenaline pounded through his body.
By bringing his knees up and propelling his arms, Cy was able to keep the momentum going a little longer. He didn’t chance a look down, knowing it would throw him off balance. Instead he kept his eyes on his landing spot. His body pushed through the hot summer air as he angled through the sky. He felt his body starting to lose momentum just as he cleared the building from above and knew the first part was over. He had made the distance and now he needed to land without breaking anything.
Cy raised his arms above his head as he fell the rest of the way through the air. Exhaling as his feet connected with a solid surface once again, he bent his knees and dipped his left shoulder, causing the momentum from the jump to be shifted forward. He felt the rooftop connect with his shoulder as he rolled over and leapt back up onto his feet. Looking down he dusted off the dirt from his navy blue suit and smiled. He had done it.
“Cut,” the voice boomed over the bullhorn. Cy walked over the thick blue foam pads he had just landed on and peered over the edge of the building at the director. “Great job, Cy. Now get down here.”
“As you wish, boss,“ Cy yelled through cupped hands.
“Don’t do it, Cy,” Jarrod warned.
“What are you going to do, fire me?” Cy laughed at the head stunt coordinator in charge of the safety of all the stunts.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Jarrod complained, knowing today was the last day of shooting for the movie.
“Aren’t we all?” Cy asked with a grin as he fell backward with his arms outstretched off the building.
Cy hit the large rectangular inflatable sitting between the building just four seconds later. The air whooshed out at his impact and he laughed as crewmen started deflating the safety measure.
“You son of a bitch, you scared me half to death,” his director shouted as he offered his hand to Cy. Cy grabbed his boss’s hand and pulled himself free of the inflatable.
“I had to get my retirement party started,” Cy laughed as he patted Douglas’s back. “What better way? I would've hated to waste that jump.”
“Are you sure you want to retire?” Doug asked. “I have a great end-of-the-world movie that I'm going to start filming next. I could use someone with your talents on the set.”
“I’m sure. These past ten years have been great, but I'm ready to go home.” Cy thought of his family and felt his heart constrict a little. It seemed as if every time they had needed him, he had been on location.
“Then turn your badge and gun in to the prop man,” Douglas grinned as he adjusted the yellow L.A. Lakers hat over his balding head. He whipped out his bullhorn and faced the crew who were busy cleaning up from the day. “Cy’s retirement party tonight at seven at Molly’s. I’m buying the first round.”
Cy sat back on the wooden bar stool and tapped his fingers on the large bar at Molly’s. Douglas was chatting with the executive producer while the lead actress, Pepper Warner, sashayed her way toward him. Her surgically perfect breasts didn’t bounce, though the black see-through shirt and the red leather pants hugged every inch of her lithe body.
“You’re much too sexy to retire. That makes you sound like an old fuddy-duddy and you’ve proven you're anything but that.” Pepper winked as she ran a perfectly manicured red nail down his chest.
“Thanks, Pep. But I have a farm and a bunch of family waiting for me back home. I'm eager to get back and spend some quality time with them. The shooting schedule has kept me so busy, I haven’t been home since Christmas.”
“I might just have to come and see this farm that holds greater lure than Hollywood,” Pepper teased as she leaned against the bar, showing off her greatest asset, because it sure wasn’t her acting.
“Anytime.” Cy picked up his glass and shot the last swallow of bourbon as he thought about his brothers letting him try it for the first time in the barn before they went off to join the Army. Cy hadn’t been old enough when his three older brothers—Miles, Marshall, and Cade—had signed up after 9/11, but he had spent the whole night with them talking about the family and what they were about to get into.
Pepper leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll text you some reasons to come back. You’ll be missing L.A. so much that you’ll be back in six months.”
Cy smiled, but he knew he was done. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy watching Pepper’s perfect posterior making its way out the door. “I’m going to miss you too, Cy. “ The soft voice came from beside him.
“I’m going to miss you, too, Taylor.” Cy slung his arm over the young actress’s shoulder. “Do you have everything packed?”
“Yes. Promise you’ll call me? I’ve never done anything like this and I'm actually really nervous.” Taylor Jefferies shoved her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans and nibbled on her bottom lip.
“You’ll be fine. No one knows your actual last name and if you dye your signature blonde hair, no one will recognize you. Just pay attention to your teachers and have fun.” Cy squeezed her shoulder. “College is the best time of your life.”
Taylor raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Better than the Oscar I won last year?”
“Better. You know why?” Cy waited for her to shake her head. “Because you get to learn things and discover who you are, not just who a director tells you to be. And you get to make friends—real friends who don’t care if you eat carbs or don’t wear makeup.”
“I’m going to miss you, Uncle Cy. It seems like just yesterday you taught me how to do my own stunts.”
Cy smiled. He still remembered the little eight-year-old girl on the movie set standing at the edge of the tree house looking down at the mats with tears in her eyes. Her parents were yelling at her to jump as the director was throwing his clipboard and anything else he could get his hands on. But Taylor was frozen in place. It was her first stunt and Cy calmly walked over to her and introduced himself. He made a joke and she cracked a smile. Climbing up the small rope ladder, he showed her how to jump and promised he’d catch her. She had jumped and started a ten-year career that resulted in many awards.
She had emancipated herself at sixteen after her parents stole over $3,000,000 from her. Cy had spent every day with her at the lawyer’s office and then in court. Taylor bought a house not far from him. He taught her how to cook, how to clean her house, and then how to drive. Sadly, she had become more like his little sister than Paige, his real little sister. And that was one of the reasons he was retiring. His own little sister had a baby, and he was tired of being an absentee brother and uncle.
“I know, squirt. Give me a call when you get settled. You’re goi
ng to school on the other side of the country from your parents, which I know is why you chose it, but know that I’m just three hours away if you need a place to crash for a weekend.”
“Thanks. Happy retirement.” Taylor kissed Cy’s cheek and he grabbed her up in a big hug.
“Talk to you soon, squirt.”
“Hey, Davidson. You need a ride home?” Douglas shouted from across the bar.
“Nah. It’s not too far, I’ll just walk.” Cy tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and walked out into the warm air. He had moved to L.A. a little over ten years ago and he still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the air. But now he was finally going home for good.
Cy shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and bent his head down as he navigated his way through clusters of men and women making their way to bars. He was going back to his apartment and getting his things ready to be shipped to Keeneston in the next few days. It couldn’t come soon enough. He was tired of the grind, the women, the hotels, the directors—the whole thing. What he really wanted was to go back home, take over his part of the farm from his youngest brother, Pierce, and maybe open a small dirt track for race cars and motorcycles.
He stopped after a couple blocks and looked around. If he cut through this side street he could shave off ten minutes. The sooner he got packed, the sooner he could get home to see his family.
Cy turned down the alley and passed the backside of apartment building after apartment building. Shouting snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a beautiful woman hurling herself down the fire escape at breakneck speed. A little way above her two men chased after her.
Instinct kicked him into gear. Sprinting toward the emergency ladder, Cy looked for a way to get the ladder down. The only way was three stories above him. The woman was going to have to make it that far by herself, but as soon as she released that lever, he’d be there to help her.
“Come on, come on, pull the lever,” Cy whispered impatiently as he watched her jump off the stairs and onto the landing.
After what seemed like an eternity, she pulled the lever and the ladder started sliding down to the ground. The woman turned and grabbed the side of the ladder, but when she looked up at the men chasing her, her foot missed the next step and slipped. Cy watched helplessly as the woman slid all the way down the ladder, her body hitting against it as she held onto the outside rails with all her might.
Jumping to action, Cy held out his arms preparing to catch the falling woman. She came down the ladder with such uncontrolled speed that he had to jump back or risk getting knocked out by her flailing feet.
She hit the pavement hard and stumbled backward, right into his chest. “Good evening. May I be of assistance?” he asked with a smile, completely out of place compared to the woman’s terror-filled face. Instead of answering, the woman screamed and stomped her foot on his. “Umph! Look, lady, I’m a good guy. Now get behind me.” Cy shoved her behind him and charged the man coming down the ladder.
Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the man’s legs and yanked hard. The man’s chin slammed into the metal step and snapped back. Cy saw a circular tattoo on the underside of his wrist as he fell back with blood trickling from his mouth. The impact of his body hitting the ground was enough to knock him out.
“This doesn’t concern you. Walk away before you die for this girl,” the man with the shaved head said with a slight Russian accent from the top of the ladder. He knew Cy held the advantage and didn’t go any farther down.
“Or what, you’ll come down here and kill me? Then come on, baldy.” Cy put his hands on his hips and stared up at the man.
“I won’t have to come down there.” The man pushed back his coat, exposing a gun.
“Well, shit.” Cy leaped back, grabbed the trembling woman by her arm, and shoved her down the street. A bullet hit the brick building just in front of them and Cy shoved her into a narrow alley between two apartment buildings. “Who are you, lady?”
“Gemma. Gemma Perry. Who are you? Er . . . and thank you for saving me. That doesn’t seem like enough of a thank-you, though. You did save my life. What do I say to that?” Gemma rambled nervously between gasps of air as they zigzagged between buildings.
Cy couldn’t help but grin as he slowed to a stop, hiding behind a dumpster. “A thank-you is good enough. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help a woman in distress? I’d never be allowed back home if my ma found out.” Cy held out his hand. “I’m Cy Davidson. It’s nice to meet you, even under the circumstances.”
Gemma shook his hand, staring in bewilderment as their hands intertwined. His wasn’t even shaking. Hers on the other hand were a sweaty, trembling mess. “You’re not even shaking.” She looked up into his hazel eyes. Green flecks, the same shade as hers, were woven in between bits of gold. From what she could tell by his short hair, it was a dark blond with a bit of auburn in it. His shoulders seemed to go on for miles and the way he looked in a t-shirt and jeans was ridiculous.
“I’m a stuntman. Or I was. Today was my last day. I’m retired. I kinda live for the adrenaline rush. Getting shot at wasn’t anything compared to leaping a building like I did a couple of hours ago. What about you, Gemma?”
“Ugh. It figures you’re Hollywood. At least your teeth aren’t capped.” Cy chuckled at this spitfire in front of him. She came up to his chin and he had the strongest desire to wrap his arms around her and protect her. He didn’t know why, because in all honesty, she was a mess. Her shirt was partially untucked from her jeans. Her shiny brunette hair stuck out in every direction and she smelled quite bad. But beneath that were full breasts, a narrow waist, and curvy hips that caused images of her naked and on top of him to fly through his mind.
“And what do you do, Gemma? Is your job why these guys were chasing you?” Cy asked.
“I’m an investigative reporter for Inside Peek magazine. Sadly, this is the second time tonight I've hidden behind a dumpster.” Gemma took a breath and tried to keep herself together. “And those men were after me because of my sister. They murdered her earlier this evening and I have something they want,” she said with a death grip on her shoulder bag.
“I am so sorry, honey. I can’t imagine losing one of my brothers or my sister.” Gemma held her breath as the huge man with the slight southern accent enveloped her in a hug. Fred chose that moment to stick his head out and make himself known with a whine. “Oh, please tell me the dog isn’t the witness to the crime and the only one able to ID the killers?”
Gemma shot him a look that told him to eat shit, but he only laughed and grabbed Fred. “Wait. He doesn’t know you . . .” Gemma’s worried words trailed off as she watched Fred attack the man’s stubbled chin with kisses.
“Aren’t you a sweet puppy?” Cy cooed. “Now, why don’t you tell me more about your sister and what those guys are after?”
Who was this man? Gemma didn’t know, but for now he was better than her sister's killers. “Umm. I’m supposed to meet the police. A detective was on his way when they broke in. If you could just get me to him, that’s all I need.” Gemma didn’t know why, but she was suddenly protective of all her information. What if he was one of them? He kinda looked like them—big and scary when fighting.
Cy chuckled again. “You’re thinking I’m one of them, aren’t you?”
“No,” Gemma denied instantly, but then Cy raised just one eyebrow. “Okay, yes. But, my dog likes you, so I guess you can’t be too bad.”
“I’m not bad at anything, honey,” Cy said with a wink.
Gemma groaned. She escaped a killer but landed with a cocky stuntman. What was next? Being served by a dance crew?
“So, you were going to tell me about your sister,” he prompted.
“My twin sister is . . . was . . . Gia Perry.”
“The international reporter? She broke some huge stories. She must've stumbled onto something big. Is that what you have?” Cy asked.
“Yes, that’s Gia. She was working on som
ething. I don’t know what, though. I didn’t have time to look. And I certainly am not doing this in the middle of an alley. Now, please, take me to Detective Greene.” Gemma looked around nervously.
“Sure.” Cy pulled out his cell phone and she started feeling anxious. She felt time ticking and all she wanted to do was get to Detective Greene and hide out in the police station until these men were caught. “Let me just make a quick call.”
“A call? To whom?” Gemma asked suspiciously.
“I’m in Hollywood. I have connections all over the place. Let me just check out this Detective Greene and make sure he’s clean.”
"Okay, that’s pretty smart," Gemma said as she nodded her head while Cy walked off a short way to make his call. If only this would end, maybe she could be free of the pressure strangling her heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cy turned and gave Gemma a reassuring smile as he dialed the phone.
“Happy retirement. Are you calling so late to rub it in that you’re drunk and with some starlet?” his boss’s gruff voice laughed over the phone.
“Nope. But I did have this cute little number quite literally run into me. In fact, that’s why I'm calling. I’m walking home from the bar when I hear shouting. I check it out and look up onto the side of an apartment building where a woman is running down the fire escape with two professionals behind her,” Cy told his boss.
“Did you get a good look at them?” he asked, the teasing having left his voice.
“Sure did. Got a real good look at a tattoo one of them had on his wrist as well.”
“I’ll be damned . . .”
“You’ll be more than that. Her twin sister was murdered this evening and she’s holding the reason why in her purse. Her sister is Gia Perry.”
“Holy shit. Where are you? I’ll send St. John to pick her up.”
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