Page 24 of Come Fly With Me

A group of furious men elbowed their way toward them. Jasper couldn’t hear what they shouted as they pointed at him, but he could read their lips: “My girlfriend…”

The guys were coming for their women. And they had murder in their eyes.

Jasper wriggled away from the hands petting him and backed up a step. Only to hit a wall.

Shit.

He was cornered.

A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he looked back, trying to see a way out. It was then he realized that it wasn’t a wall behind him.

It was Grunt.

As relief flooded through Jasper, he felt something rip. Glancing down, he discovered that a huge chunk of his blue satin shirt was gone. The women whooped as they tossed the fabric in the air. Hands reached out to tear off more.

Out of the chaos, a fist came at his face.

A large hand appeared over his shoulder, moving so fast he didn’t notice it until it was there. It stopped the fist in a ferocious grip and held it tight. “No,” Grunt barked.

The guy who’d tried to hit him paled as he stared up at Grunt.

With a sharp shove, Grunt sent the man back into the crowd. “We’re done,” he snapped as his hand wrapped around Jasper’s upper arm.

And then, using his body as a battering ram, Grunt cut through the crowd and headed for the back of the club.

Dragging Jasper along with him.

* * *

Matt foundhis cousin Flynn down by the stream that ran through his property. He sat on the grass, bottle-feeding the lamb snuggled in his lap. The insane goat that seemed to like only Flynn lay curled up at his side, and there was a sheep asleep at his back. A donkey stood beside them as though keeping watch.

With a shake of his head, Matt sat on the grass beside Flynn—on the opposite side from the evil goat.

“Did you bring beer?” Flynn asked without looking up from the lamb.

“No, I didn’t bring beer. It’s almost midnight, and this isn’t a social call.”

The goat raised its head and glared at him, obviously taking offense at his tone.

“If this isn’t a social call, then what is it? Did you come to help me feed the babies? Because I’ve got three owls who need feeding after this lamb. And then I need to get up in two hours and do the whole thing all over again.” Two massive rabbits appeared from under a bush, jumped over Flynn’s outstretched legs, and disappeared behind a hedge. “I’m knackered,” Flynn added.

“Your life is seriously deranged,” Matt muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Flynn agreed. “And yet, all of these animals are still more peaceful than the kids.” His head snapped up, and he glared at Matt. “You didn’t stop by the house and wake the kids, did you?”

“I saw Abby on the porch enjoying the moonlight. The kids are still asleep.”

“Long may it last.” Flynn returned his attention to the lamb.

It had been like this for as long as Matt could remember. Flynn Boyle had always been a magnet for strays and injured animals. Even when he played soccer for the Premier League, he still managed to find wounded pigeons that he nursed back to health. Pigeons: the rats of the sky. Flynn had no sense whatsoever—something else that hadn’t changed since childhood.

“You’ve got to stop taking in other people’s unwanted animals,” Matt told him for the millionth time. “That way, you’ll get more sleep.”

“I try to say no.” Flynn looked pained. “But they just turn up.”

“The animals?”

“The people with the animals, you numpty. They turn up at my door with big, sad eyes and beg me to help them.”