"And I wouldn't be here either if Keith hadn't taught me how to position the airbags properly for that twenty-meter fall in Edinburgh," I add, clapping my friend on the shoulder."We're a proper team, lass.No stunt happens without triple-checking every detail."
Gretchen visibly relaxes, and I notice the worry lines on her forehead are softening."What exactly are you two planning today?"
Keith gestures toward the course laid out before us."It's actually quite controlled.We'll be driving parallel at about seventy miles per hour---"
"Seventy?"Gretchen's eyes widen.
"Relax, that's nothing for professionals like us," I quickly explain."The cars have reinforced frames, racing harnesses, and roll cages.We've both driven at twice that speed on closed courses."
"And the jump?"
Keith points to the ramp in the distance."That's my part.Kirk here will peel away before the quarry edge.I'm the one taking the jump."
The lass turns her attention back to me."You're not jumping, Kirk?"
"Not this time,luaidh.I'll do the car chase, but Keith is the jump specialist."
"Oh thank goodness."
Keith winks at her."Dinnae worry, lass.I'll make it seem like it's your man, though.That is the magic of film, aye?The audience will never know the difference."
"Drivers to position!"the first assistant director, Stewart Lister, shouts through his megaphone.
I turn toward Gretchen."I'll be back before ye know it, lass."
"Be careful," she whispers, then crushes her lips to mine in a quick, fierce kiss that says everything her words never could.
"You know I'm always safety conscious," I remind her with a wink before striding toward my vehicle---a sleek black Aston Martin that's been modified for the stunt.The engine purrs beneath me as I slide into the driver's seat.
Through the windshield, I can see Gretchen being escorted to the viewing area by one of the production assistants.She turns back once, giving me a wee wave that I return with a confident nod.
Keith's voice crackles through my earpiece."Ready to show off for your lass, KB?"
"Aye, ye know I am.Let's give Gretchen something to talk about that doesn't involve broken bones."
I settle into the driver's seat, adjusting my racing harness with practiced hands.The engine's purr is a familiar comfort beneath me as I run through my mental checklist.Every dial, every gauge, every surface of this car has been customized to my specifications.It's as much a part of me as my own limbs when I'm performing.
Garrett's voice crackles through my earpiece."Cameras are rolling.Ready when you are, gentlemen."
I center myself and tune out everything else, even the rustling of the breeze.All my worries about Dougal, all the thoughts about the wedding plans, even Gretchen's anxious face, they all fade away.There's only the car, the road, and the stunt.
"Three," the countdown begins.
"Two."
I grip the wheel, as my fingers find their familiar grooves.The muscles in my legs tense, ready to engage the pedals with a precision that comes from years of practice.
"One."
My pulse kicks into overdrive, but my breathing remains steady.This is the moment where everything else disappears.
"Action!"
I slam my foot down on the accelerator, feeling the g-force thrust me back into my seat as the Aston Martin leaps forward.The road ahead blurs as I rapidly gain speed, the speedometer climbing past thirty, forty, fifty miles per hour.
In my peripheral vision, I spot Keith's car matching mine, stride for stride.We're perfectly synchronized, two machines dancing along the Highland road.The twists and turns come at us rapid-fire, and I lean into them, feeling the car as an extension of my body.
"Looking good, Kirk," Keith says in my ear."Time to show off a bit, eh?"
