That meant Béla was under the car, now.Jake stopped and jumped out, nearly stepping on her head as he landed. Dropping to his knees, he stared down at her. Her body was dirty from the tire rolling over her, but her eyes were open and she was looking at him. She seemed all right. She looked really sexy with that dirty tire track running up her body from her pelvis to her left shoulder.“Are you okay?” Jake asked, anxiously reaching down for her.Béla tried to answer, but when she opened her mouth, blood welled up in her throat. She seemed surprised, then began to choke, spattering her already squashed body and getting some of it right in Jake’s face.In a few seconds, she was completely out of control, shaking violently and choking on blood, completely unable to breathe. Grabbing her arm, Jake dragged her out from underneath the car and over to the side of the road, managing to turn her over his lap with her left cheek pressed against the ground so the blood could drain out of her from. Jill’s car – tick. The red 74 Firebird and Malcolm’s dark SVU – both unexpected and deeply unwelcome. That oh so familiar feeling of dread firing up in my gut like a six-point-two-liter V8 on steroids. Was this some kind of sick style cuckold-hotwife-bull intervention to which my invitation had gotten lost in the post?I sat in my car, hands tightly gripping the wheel, for a good five or ten minutes before I could finally summon enough courage to prise myself out of the car and into the house. That courage just about sufficient to give me a mask of courtesy to greet my unexpected guests.“Callan, Malcolm. How are you both? I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said through tight-lipped nerves, looking across from them as my eyes finally met with Jill’s, our eyes lingering as Jill got my message of disapproval.“Dave,” two deep male voices echoed back.“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” was as polite as I could keep it.Not surprisingly, it was Jill rather than the guys who.
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