“Josh?”Hunter asked tentatively.
“Yee-fucking-haw,” Josh said grimly… and made the jump.
The first descent was terrifying—and exhilarating—and for a whole heartbeat Josh remembered why he’d done this for fun before.And then a gust of wind came out of fucking nowhere from off the fucking lake, and Josh was slammed sideways and into the building.He let out a grunt of pain, and his left arm went numb.
Oh fuck.He had to be three stories lower and to the left and ready to party in less than three minutes.
“Josh?”Hunter asked, his voice taking on the restrained tension of someone trying not to panic.
“Arm,” Josh gasped.“Shoulder.Have Grace ready to pull me in when I hit the balcony.”
Hunter muttered something to somebody else, and Josh concentrated on not throwing up.God, he’d hardly ever thrown up as a kid, but since the big C and chemo and recovery and special foods and protein drinks, throwing up was his go-to for any sort of discomfort.
Fiercely, he concentrated on working the rope, the pulley, gloved hands and slippered feet finding purchase on the hundred-year-old stone of the stately apartment building.Oh thank you, Celeste Buenaventura and your great taste in art and living quarters, even if you are a shitty human being!
He’d forgotten how pain could dog even the most fluid movement, could make his breath come short, could… oh God, foot, foot, foot—he was so close.If only he could extend his arm to pull himself closer.
Pain blinded him, and he almost lost his grip on the rope.He fought the urge to throw up and was trying to pull his shit together enough to actually slide onto the balcony when he felt an arm around his waist and a hand at his belt, while a familiar voice, accented with London’s East End, conferred with Grace.
“He right bloody bollixed it,” Liam hissed.“God.Out of socket, you think?”
“Here,” Grace said, sounding flat and unemotional, which meant he wasreallypanicked.“Liam, you steady him, I’ll hold his arm.Hunter—”
The crack his shoulder made when it slid back into its socket was what pushed him over the edge.
“Gonna puke,” he rasped, and before he could even position himself, he felt strong hands on his waist and another under his chin, and somebody—probably Grace—was holding the puke bag.
The stomach spasm was mercifully swift, and Grace—ethereally graceful and beautiful like the stars even with such an awful chore—disappeared with the offending receptacle.Someone—Hunter, Grace’s decked, stoic boyfriend—wiped Josh down and thrust a breath mint into his mouth, and Liam…?
Definitely Liam… simply held him upright, whispering into his hair.
“Goddammit, boy-o, you had to do all this without me?Can I come help now?Please?”
Oh God.“Dammit, Liam,” Josh rasped, trying to put his weight on his feet.“I missed you so bad.Do you really have to see me like this?”
“I’ll take you anyway I can get you, lad.Just don’t leave me behind.”
And then Grace was back, lint roller in one hand for Josh’s all-black suit, bottle of water so Josh could rinse and spit the breath freshener, and a comb for a quick touch-up.Grace—whose real name was Dylan Li—was often described as a firefly in a tornado.Off-the-charts brilliant, a stunning dancer, so much natural beauty most people claimed it was like a slug to the gut.The catch to all this might have been called ADHD on steroids with a nuclear chaser: Grace was lucky he lived through most days, either because his own recklessness and lack of focus would get him killed or because the people around him wanted to kill him before the gods took their share.
But nobody who believed that had seen Grace over this last year, working his ass off to keep Josh alive.
“Thanks, Dylan,” Josh said softly, catching Grace’s hands as he went for one more swipe of Josh’s suit.“I’m fine.”
“You are not fine, and I need at least twenty minutes to tell you why you’refuckedand a fucking asshole, so let me—” He literally spit on his hand, wiped a scuff of dirt from Josh’s check, and then flounced off.
“Oh dear,” Josh murmured.“Everybody’s pissed off, and I’ve got to go get my ass grabbed.”
“Good news is,” Hunter said, shining a light in Josh’s eyes to make sure he wasn’t concussed, “a bigwig entered right when she would have been searching for you.She’s been kissing up to him for the last fifteen minutes.”
Josh perked up.“Our target?”
“No,” Hunter said.“Leon di Rossi, the European shipping tycoon, with his newest belle, Julia Salinger.”
Josh groaned.“They didn’t—”
“They were on standby, my boy,” came a new voice, and Josh hoped the balcony would break off the side of the building so he could die right there.
“Uncle Danny… this was supposed to be—”
