Revenge is a One-Star Ride
AVA
There are bad decisions, and then there was this: I was disguised as a rideshare driver, ready to chauffeur my cheating boyfriend to his mistress.
My knuckles ached around the wheel. I’d parked a block away, gone online, and waited. When the app chimed, my stomach dropped. A name lit the screen.
Chase. He had no idea his ride to his mistress was being driven by the girlfriend he was about to cheat on.
The mirror fogged when I breathed. The disguise held. Oversized hoodie. Gas-station sunglasses. Cap low.
He won’t see me.
He never saw me. Not when I cried at two in the morning. Not when I pulled double shifts to cover his rent. So why does it still sting?
The back door clicked. Chase slid in without looking up.
“Hey,” he muttered, eyes on his phone. “For Chase?”
“Yeah,” I said, lowering my voice so he wouldn’t recognize me.
“Cool. Willow Creek Apartments.”
The knot in my gut tightened. That’s where she lived.
You can still back out.
I could stop, peel off the hoodie, and walk away like a normal person.
I didn’t. I was feeling petty.
I gripped the wheel and pulled onto the road. He knew where he was going. He just didn’t know what was waiting for him.
***
A Few Hours Earlier
I should’ve known better. When a man set the bar so low you needed a shovel to find it, you shouldn’t be surprised when he faceplanted.
And yet I was. Not because Chase had cheated. I saw that coming. Because he’d been insultingly obvious about it.
The proof glowed on his phone like a slap to the face.
Tiff: Can’t wait to see you, baby. Miss you lots. Going to rock your world tonight.
Chase stood in the shower, steam fogging the glass, clueless I was seconds from hurling his phone into the toilet.
Tiffany. Tiff. The same girl who gushed over our anniversary post like we were #couplegoals.
Tiff: OMG you two are SO cute.
My jaw locked.
What do I do now? Cry? Scream? Smash his phone against the wall?
No.
I was done swallowing the silence.
Once, I’d been the person who said yes at midnight when a friend needed a ride, the one who took the extra work so someone else could coast. That habit had built my life into polite smallness.
Chase was the rotting cherry on a two-year-old sundae of being taken for granted.
This is not another ‘I’ll be fine’ moment. The petty voice in my head unzipped and leaned in. It sounded like the woman I used to bury whenever I said yes when I meant no.
I tugged my hoodie up, shoved my hair into a messy knot, and jammed a baseball cap on.
A soft whine paused me.
Ruffles sat by the couch, tail wagging, ears forward as if he could smell my plan.
My chest pinched. I crouched and cupped his face. “Be good,” I murmured, pressing a quick kiss between his ears. “I won’t be long.”
His tail thumped twice.
I stood, exhaled, and reached for the door.
Step one: Operation Payback. Go
***
I burst into Mel’s apartment like a woman on a mission.
Mel, halfway through a grilled cheese, barely looked up. “Uh-oh. You have the ‘I’m about to commit a felony’ face.”
“Chase is cheating,” I said, breathless. “I need to borrow your car and your rideshare account.”
“What?”
Collapsing onto her couch, I waved my phone. “He’s cheating. Instead of breaking up like a sane person, I’m doing something spectacularly unhinged. I’m going to drive him to his mistress. As his driver.”
Mel choked on her sandwich. “Epic.”
She grinned. “My sweet, non-confrontational Ava. I love this vengeful version of you. But you need a game plan. A killer exit line. Something savage.”
“Screw you, Chase?” I offered.
She made a face. “Toddler-level. Obliterate him.”
“I don’t do obliterating.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Mel sat up. “Repeat after me. You two-timing motherfucker!”
My mouth went dry. “Oh. Uh. That’s a lot.”
“Yell it to the universe,” she said, waving her sandwich like a baton.
I swallowed and blurted, “You … two-t-timing… m-mother… fluffer!”
Mel stared, then exploded in laughter. “Mother fluffer? Ava, no. Fully commit. Again.”
I squared my shoulders and tried again. “You two-timing motherf—”
The neighbor pounded on the wall. “Keep it the hell down!”
Silence. Mel collapsed on the couch, wheezing. “I swear to God, Ava, that was the best thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
I slapped my hands over my face. “Pretty sure I just committed noise pollution.”
Mel laughed. “No, babe. You committed to the bit.”
“I think you’re ready,” she wheezed.
Am I? I had no idea. But I was about to find out.
Mel wiped her eyes, still grinning, and darted to the hall closet. “Wait, before you go.” She rummaged through a pile of junk until she pulled out a baseball bat, of all things.
I blinked. “Uh—?”
She tossed it to me. “For effect. Keep it in the front seat, make them sweat a little.”
My fingers clipped the handle wrong. The bat scraped my palm and hit the hardwood with a loud, hollow thud that echoed through the apartment.
Smooth. Not.
I scooped the bat up, rubbing my palm where it stung. “I’m not actually gonna use it.”
Mel snorted. “Good. Just make sure you’ve got a better grip when you pretend to.”
I chewed my lip, considering. A slow grin spread across my face. “You’re evil.”
She flopped back on the couch, wicked grin intact. “Now go make him suffer.”
I grabbed my keys, the bat, my determination.
Chase was in for one hell of a ride.
The Toyota Corolla idled a block from my apartment, the rideshare app open and waiting.
Chase’s ride request popped up. Destination: Willow Creek Apartments.
My stomach churned, but I hit accept before I could overthink. Game on.
The door opened. Chase slid into the backseat, completely oblivious.
I adjusted my sunglasses and cap, forcing my voice lower. “For Chase?”
He barely glanced up. “Yeah, thanks.”
Unreal. He didn’t even recognize me. Then my stomach flipped. Ruffles sat beside him, tail wagging, wearing the collar I’d bought. He’d taken our dog with him. Gutless cheat.
I gripped the wheel until my knuckles ached.
I tried to keep my voice neutral, but the words slipped out. “Heading to see your girl?”
Chase smirked at his phone. “Yup.”
“She hot?”
That finally got his attention. He looked up, grinning. “Hell yeah. Best lay I’ve ever had.”
Rage detonated in my chest.
Focus, Ava. Just get to the home wrecker’s apartment.
When Tiffany climbed into the car, I smelled the betrayal. Cheap vanilla hit me like perfume and gasoline, thick enough to choke on.
“Hi, baby,” she cooed, sliding in next to Chase.
“Hey, sexy,” Chase murmured. “You look amazing.”
Then he kissed her. Deep. Wet. Shameless. My vision blurred, and I nearly swerved into a parked car.
Chase’s hands roamed while Tiffany giggled, and Ruffles stared at me through the mirror like he already knew what was coming.
Ugh. I can’t take it anymore.
My foot slammed the brake. The Corolla jerked, and Chase pitched forward, cursing.
I threw the car in park, ripped off my sunglasses, took my cap off, and grabbed the bat from the passenger seat. I turned and met his eyes. His jaw dropped. Tiffany’s scream pierced the air. Ruffles wagged, delighted.
I bared my teeth. “YOU TWO-TIMING MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Oh my god,” Chase breathed.
I pointed the bat. “I’m gonna bust a cap in your ass.”
Tiffany screamed louder and clawed for the door. “SHE HAS A GUN! OH MY GOD. CHASE! SHE HAS A GUN!”
Gun? What gun?
“RUN!” Chase shouted, shoving the door open.
Too late. They were already gone. Through the rearview mirror, I watched him trip on the curb, crash face-first into the pavement, scramble up, then run after her like his life depended on it.
They bolted down the sidewalk, panic in full bloom, leaving Ruffles behind.
I exhaled, the bat heavy in my hands. Ruffles hopped onto the front seat, tongue out, tail thumping, eyes bright. So… what’s the plan, Mom?
With my dog beside me, my bat in the passenger seat, and my ex in the dust, I threw the car into drive and floored it.
