Page 28 of A Little Bit More

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Jasper triedto run up the stairs as fast as Grunt wanted him to, but even though he danced every damn day, he still wasn’t fit enough to reach the speed his bodyguard urged. After he tripped for the second time, an arm grabbed him around the waist.

The next thing he knew, Jasper was being carried under Grunt’s arm, like a rugby ball, as the American took the stairs three at a time.

The old tenement close flew by in a rush of blue enamel tiles, ornate iron handrails, and whitewashed stone. Behind them, going at a much slower pace thanks to their high heels, was a mob of shouting women and several aggressive men. Jasper had no idea where his friends were—all he could do was hope they’d gotten out before being assaulted or crushed in the crowd.

When they reached the landing, Grunt raced for a door, lifted his foot and kicked it in. Once inside, he dropped Jasper like a stone before grabbing a chair and wedging it under the door handle. Then he moved a set of filing cabinets to block the door.

It was then Jasper took stock of where they were. From the posters on the wall, they appeared to be in the office of a charity that worked with wayward teens.

Grunt didn’t bother telling Jasper what to do next. He just grabbed his arm and headed through a door into one of the side rooms, which was set up like a counseling space—it had an old sofa, a couple of chairs, and a low table with a tray of sand and a tiny rake. There were also bookcases, which Grunt moved to block the door—after he’d looked out the window first.

“We need to call the police,” Jasper said, digging in his pocket for his phone.

It wasn’t there. One of the light-fingered women must have taken it. Either that, or it had fallen out when he was dangling upside down under his bodyguard’s arm.

“You’ll have to use your phone; mine’s gone,” he told the American.

“No time.” Grunt shoved up the sash window. “The mob will be in here before the cops arrive.” He looked out, then turned back to Jasper. “There’s a pile of garbage and old furniture down there with sofa cushions on top. I need you to jump onto the cushions.”

A wave of lightheadedness hit Jasper so hard he had to bend over and take some deep breaths.

“You done?” Grunt said as banging and shouting came from the corridor outside the main office door. “Time’s ticking.”

“We’re two floors up, and you want me to jump? Onto garbage?” And yeah, he was screeching. “Are you out of your mind? You’re trying to get me killed. We need to call the police and then barricade the door some more until we’re rescued.” He looked frantically around the room, but no more heavy furniture materialized. “Maybe we can move the couch.” He took a step toward the sagging sofa.

And his feet didn’t touch the floor.

One second, he was walking across the room, and the next, he was dangling outside the window. Held aloft by Grunt’s meaty fists.

“Help!” Jasper hollered. “Help! He’s trying to kill me.”

And that’s when Grunt let go.

Jasper screamed like a bad horror-movie star all the way down.

He hit the mass of cushions, which protected him from the harder objects beneath them, then slid off to land on the ground facedown—in old pizza. Struggling to his feet, he wiped at his face. He was going to be sick. And what was that smell? Piss. He’d landed in piss. He gagged, reaching out a hand to hold the wall on the other side of the alleyway.

“Put the cushions back on top of the pile,” came the order from above.

It took effort to look up. And there was his bodyguard, hanging from the window ledge outside the office they’d broken into. Jasper blinked. Yeah, he was still there.

“Cushions. Now,” was the sharp order.

Jasper found himself complying before his brain caught up with his body. He lifted the disgusting stained, foul-smelling cushions and shoved them back onto the pile of furniture. Something crawled out from a tear in a cushion, and Jasper couldn’t hold it anymore. He turned and vomited against the wall.

There was a thud behind him, then a hand on his back.

“Can you run?” Grunt demanded.

Jasper groaned. So, Grunt lifted him again, tucked him under his arm, and ran down the alley.

It was just after he noticed the rat eating the pizza he’d brushed off his face that Jasper passed out.

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Flynn waiteduntil ten o’clock the next day before calling his brother. Harry wasn’t a morning person.