The court buildings are just a few miles beyond the end of the parkway and the parking lot was mostly empty at that hour—not even 8:30. “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“Who the hell is this and why are you calling my wife’s phone?”
“Uh, sorry—wrong number.”
All of these phone messages helped me to make a decision. Indian Sex Jill climbed out of bed and closed the door behind them. I didn’t mind; I was charging him $500 an hour. We’d take them home, give them showers, and I’d read to them before bed. It’s simple—I trusted my wife and I couldn’t imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to cross me. Jill, however, lacked self-confidence when it came to her body. I’d made it totally clear that adultery was a deal breaker for me and to date she’d always agreed. But sleep won’t come the whole night through. Jill told me she needed to take the girls shopping. She grabbed her pillow and pressed it over her face as she screamed and thrashed all over the bed. He was terrified and claimed he didn’t know the others planned the robbery; he thought they were going to try buying beer.
