Chapter 1 - Malicious Mischief

Two wrongs don't make a right,

I'd always believed in that saying. My dad was a cop. Turning the other cheek had been instilled in me before I was out of diapers.

But as I drove away from the parking lot of the Port Angeles Community hospital, I couldn't help but feel like somehow, that sentiment was bullshit.

It sure as hell felt right.

When I stabbed those expensive as hell tires with the knife—his knife—it felt right. When I heard the hiss of the air pouring out and watched that asinine car sink to the ground, it felt like justice.

It felt like closure and a little like I'd tipped the scales as I watched it descend closer to the concrete. It sat unbalanced in his parking spot, and the reserved sign above it taunted me.

My only regret when I walked away was that I wouldn't be there to see the look on his arrogant asshole face when he came out and saw it after his long shift.

Taking one last look at that stupid car, and another at the hospital, I turned and ran to my car. I got in, pulled my phone out of my purse and put it on the console and tossed my purse on the floor.

Then, I put it in reverse, and peeled the fuck out of the parking lot.

I pushed my sunglasses down over my eyes and ran my hand through my hair as I veered onto the highway toward home. I smiled and shook my head . It hadn't been planned, but that didn't mean I hadn't thought about inflicting revenge on him thousands of times in the past few months. Heck yes I did. But I hadn't intended on doing anything about it.

It wasn't my style. I liked licking my wounds in private.

However, when I left my doctor's appointment and ran into one of the nurses my soon-to-be ex-husband worked with, I ignited. She'd had quite a few stories for me. I'd known most of it already—it was the reason we were getting divorced in the first place.

He was a dirty, nasty, cheating slimeball.

But what I hadn't known was that his new live-in whore—another nurse—was baking a bun in her oven, the last thread holding my shit together snapped like a dry twig.

I stomped out of the hospital, fuming. When I caught sight of that white Maserati with the vanity license plate "DocJay" that anger turned into a fury I hadn't realized I had the ability to feel.

I grinned wider, knowing the flat tires would surely piss him off. But the words I'd carved into the hood would truly send him over the edge.

If only I'd been one to plan these sort of things. It would have been much better if I'd had red paint. I wanted it to be visible from space.

At least everyone in that hospital would see it, and that had to be enough. The good doctor's precious reputation would be tarnished. It was a start.

I turned up the radio and pushed the button to lower the windows. It was cloudy, but there wasn't any rain in the forecast for once. My adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the fresh, cool air felt good on my face.

By the time the I hit the twenty-mile mark on my way back to Forks, the rush of energy pumping through my veins had simmered down to a dull panic.

Jake wouldn't let this go.

He'd gaslighted me our entire relationship. For a long time, I believed it was all in my head. He was just working long hours. Striving to give me everything he promised. I knew what I was getting into marrying a doctor. I fell for it for a long time.

He expected me to do exactly what I'd always done when our marriage blew up. Sit back, shut the fuck up and just take it.

He wanted me to walk away so he could pick up his life without a mess.

And I had. Quietly, I'd allowed him to take advantage and humiliate me. I let him hold me back from everything that mattered to me. My family, a career, kids. All of it. And when he decided he was going to move along, he thought I'd hate him in private.

But I wasn't doing that.

Not anymore. And especially after finding out the one thing I'd begged for, the only thing I'd really wanted, he'd gone and given to someone else.

So yeah, he was going to be pissed. Jake didn't do messy.

I could almost guarantee his first call would be to his attorney. The charitable gift of half his shit was going to be wiped from the books, and instead, he was going to make sure I had nothing.

But honestly, he could have it. All of it. I'd left the ugly house he'd bought in Port Angeles the day his little mistress of the week showed up on my doorstep to tell me she was fucking my husband.

I'd only taken my clothes and shoes, some sentimental things I'd had before our marriage, my laptop, and the freaking standing mixer. It was the only material thing I wasn't going to part with and I would be damned if some hooch moved in and touched it.

I'd waited years to get that thing.

I drove away from that house and went straight to my parent's house in Forks. The first thing my dad said when I walked in the house was "finally."

"Finally." My voice echoed through the cab of my car and I laughed. God. I felt free.

"Finally."

He could keep his money and his women. He could shove all of it straight up his ass.

As far as I was concerned, he no longer existed. I was starting with a blank slate and he was officially a memory I wanted to forget.

I decided to pull off and grab a burger since I'd had to forgo breakfast before I had my blood work. Plus, I just needed a minute to relax and gather myself.

There was a great diner my dad and I used to stop to eat just off the highway. We'd stop there whenever I had a softball game in PA. They had the best onion rings in the Pacific Northwest. I could almost taste that double cheeseburger and the pungent fried onions. After the day I'd had, I was going to splurge and get a strawberry shake to go with it.

I slid across lanes so I could swing back around toward the diner. As soon as I hit the turn signal, red and blue lit up behind me. The piercing sound of a siren made me jolt in my seat and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel while looking in my rearview mirror.

What the hell? I wasn't speeding. At least, I didn't think I was. There wasn't much traffic on the 101 this time of day, other than an occasional semi-truck and a few commuters. I hadn't cut anyone off when I'd changed lanes, and my truck was brand new. There was no possibility of a busted taillight.

Realization struck and I pounded my fist against the steering wheel.

"That rat bastard called the cops!"

A/N: Happy Saturday friends. I hope you are all well.

I'm excited to roll with this new story. Get strapped in. This is going to be a bumpy ride!

XOXO

Jami