When Billy came that evening, she looked embarrassed. Didn't even make eye contact at first. "I'll grab the bags," she said.
Before she left, she turned to me. "She's telling people you threatened her, just so you know."
I smirked. "Good thing I had cops here the whole time."
Billy nodded. "Yeah, I think she's in for a reality check."
Minerva thought she'd humiliated me, but honestly, I'd never felt more in control. And that was only day two.
By the next morning, I thought maybe, just maybe, things would calm down. I was wrong.
I stepped outside to head to work, and the driveway was empty. Her car, or rather my car, was gone.
It wasn't registered under her name. I bought it two years ago, paid off in full. She used it because she needed something reliable. I didn't mind back then, but now, seeing the empty spot, I realized she'd taken it like it was hers.
I checked the cameras. She had a spare key I'd forgotten about and took it at midnight.
I called her right away, straight to voicemail. Texted her, "You took my car, return it today."
No answer.
An hour later, I got a text from a random number. "Minerva says she's keeping the car until she gets her stuff back. Stop harassing her. Landon."
Of course.
I replied, "Her stuff's gone. Her sister picked it up. The car isn't hers. It's in my name. She's now committing theft."
No response.
So, I printed out the title, the insurance, everything under my name, and went to the local police station. Explained that my ex took my car without permission after moving out. They filed it as a stolen vehicle and told me to wait.
Three hours later, my phone rang. Blocked number. I answered.
"Patrick, what the hell?" she screamed. "The cops pulled me over at Target. They said the car's stolen."
"Well," I said, "that's because it is."