But as soon as Russell and I step onto the porch, he starts baying like he’s lost his Corgi mind.
“Hush, Russ.”
I step off the porch and aim for the parking lot, but headlights shine into my eyes. It doesn’t look like Virginia’s Kia or Courtney’s Mazda.
When I lift my hand to cut the glare, I see the purple neon outline of the wordLYFTon the windshield.
No one’s booked for tonight. But what if I missed a notification?
My stomach dips.
And then the rear passenger door opens.
A man’s shape steps out, but the car’s interior light doesn’t reach his face.
My heart pounds like a trapped animal trying to beat its way out of a cage.
“Heyyy, Greta… honey,” Josh slurs.
And then my ex turns around, folds over, and pukes onto the gravel.
* * *
Somewhere in South Louisianais a LYFT driver with a bounty on his head.
Because that bastard drove away, spraying gravel and high-tailing it down the drive even as I chased after him, yelling for him to stop. Telling him he couldn’t just dump a man on my property and leave.
And I know that asshole heard me because the back passenger door was still open at least until he got to Highway 353.
One day, I will find that mother and put a boot in his ass.
I scream my voice raw in the November night as the coward’s tail lights disappear, vowing my revenge, until I am just a mad woman raving at the stars.
Because shouting threats at a rideshare driver is way more appealing than turning around and facinghim.
Oh my fucking God.
What. The. Hell.
The last threat tears from my throat, and my shouts echo and fade into the darkness. I don’t move.
Because what could possibly come next? What the hell is he even thinking? Showing up here? At night? Drunk?
And why now? When Zach has to be in South Carolina?
Angry tears prick my eyes, but I tell those fuckers to beat it. No way am I crying now.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in this moment, but I can’t call Zach. He’s too far away to help. He’d be just as upset as I am at this cocked up surprise. And there’s nothing he could do anyway.
Plus, I suspect that as soon as I heard his voice, all of these emotions would come flooding out in tears and snot, and I’m not giving Josh the satisfaction.
Hell, no.
So, that leaves me one option.
Ignore this asshole.
I turn on my heel and march straight back up the drive. My plan is to say nothing. Not even look at Josh. He can call for another ride to take his ass somewhere else.
