"Oh for God's sake," I said, "look at him. The guy's huge. And he's totally ticked off."
Jake was grinning again. "Yeah. I know."
"Why the hell are you smiling?" I scanned his head for injuries. Either he'd suffered one hell of a bump to the head or he'd totally lost it.
I whirled toward the back seat. Trey was holding out a camera, capturing, from what I could tell, Jake and the guy just outside the car. Trey was grinning too.
Obviously, they'd both lost their minds. I gave Trey a pleading look. "Aren't you gonna do something?" I said.
"Yeah. Totally," Trey said.
"Well?" I said.
His eyebrows furrowed. "Well what?"
"Well, what are you gonna do?"
"I'm doing it," he said.
I gave him an exasperated look. "Taking pictures?"
"Video," he corrected.
"How is that helpful?" I demanded.
When he answered with only a shrug, I gave up and turned my attention to the guy outside. He was leaning down, hollering spit-laden obscenities through the glass. His face was red. His fists were clenched. He looked like he'd kill the next person he came across.
Apparently, that was supposed to be Jake.
In spite of the commotion, Jake looked oddly unconcerned. "Trey, you ready?" Jake asked.
"Yup," Trey said. "Whenever you are."
My heart was pounding. "Ready for what?" I asked.
Neither guy answered.
With an expression of near-boredom, Jake calmly pressed a control-switch on his armrest. Slowly, the driver's side window slid down. Jake looked up at the big guy, who'd grown suddenly quiet, as if he were utterly surprised that Jake would do something so stupid.
That made two of us.
"Can I help you?" Jake asked.
The guy found his voice. "Yeah," he said. "Get the fuck out of the car, asshole."
Jake looked at him with mild curiosity. "Hey, don't I know you from someplace?"
The guy's eyebrows furrowed. "What the fuck'sthatsupposed to mean?"
With that same cocky grin, Jake turned toward Trey, who was still holding out the video recorder. Jake said in a loud stage-whisper. "I think somebody's angry."
What the hell? Was he taunting this guy on purpose? I had to stop him. I reached frantically for the armrest, seeking the control-switch to roll up Jake's window. I pressed the first switch I came across, and then stifled a gasp as my own window began to slide slowly down.
"Shit," I muttered and reached for the next control over. I pressed it. Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Nothing. I looked desperately toward Jake. Suddenly, a giant fist shot through his open window. It caught Jake on the side of his face. Jake's head jerked sideways. I stifled a scream.
Jake made a sound. A laugh? No. It couldn’t be.
Could it?
