“Down, girl. Thanks, sport, but I’ve got it under control.” I winced from the pull on the bruise I could feel forming on my cheek. “Why don’t you and Jill go inside?”
“Will you be okay, Jack?”
“I’ll be fine.” A Pontiac Grand Prix was at the curb, its lights on and the engine still running. “I take it that’s Sleeping Beauty’s car?”
“Yes.”
“Bastard.” I hoisted him up by his collar and the seat of his pants and lugged him to the curb. Jill followed. It was obvious she wasn’t going to retreat to the safety of the house. “I suppose you didn’t call 911 either?”
“Why? You had everything under control.”
I gave a snort of laughter. “Want to get the door for me?”
She opened the passenger door, and I slung him inside and dusted off my hands.
“I suppose we should turn off the engine and the li
