Chapter 4 · Johana's Story

The Ride of Shame


“This doesn’t count as a second date if we never had a first,” the Grinch quipped, flicking on the patrol car’s lights as he drove. “Which is just as well, because I don’t date menaces.”

Johana smirked. “Nope. Seems like your only dating contenders are women with full-blown clown fetishes—must be a real circus out there.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as if he might burst into laughter, but he quickly masked it with professional disappointment. With a cheeky grin, he quipped, “I draw the line at menaces—unless they come with snacks!”

Johana let out an offended gasp, pressing a hand to her chest like she’d been personally victimized. “Oh, I’m the menace? That’s rich coming from the man who probably growls at small children for fun.”

He shot her a dry look in the rearview mirror. “I don’t growl at children.”

“Oh? Just at innocent women trying to defend their best friend’s honor?”

“You drop-kicked a guy in the nuts, Ruiz. That’s not defense, that’s premeditated warfare.”

Johana scoffed. “Oh, please. If I had premeditated it, I would’ve worn better shoes.”

The Grinch sighed and kept his eyes on the road, but she swore she saw a twitch of a smirk before he buried it under his usual scowl.

Johana squirmed against the handcuffs. “For the record, this really wasn’t my fault.”

“That’s what all the criminals say.”

She shot forward as much as her restraints allowed. “I AM NOT A CRIMINAL!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Says the woman I found riding a grown man like a mechanical bull in the middle of O’Riely’s.”

Johana huffed, sinking back into her seat. “You’re being very dramatic about this whole thing.”

“I don’t think I’m the dramatic one here.”

“Then pull over and let me go.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Johana grumbled something in Spanish that was definitely not a blessing on his household.

A beat of silence passed before she muttered, “If men just learned how to listen to the word no, none of this would’ve happened.”

That did it.

The Grinch’s hands tightened on the steering wheel before he abruptly veered the patrol car onto the side of the road. He threw it in park, turned around, and locked her with a stare so intense it could’ve melted steel.

“Explain.”

Johana blinked. “What?”

He gestured impatiently. “You clearly have a dramatic monologue locked and loaded—so go ahead, Ruiz. Explain.”

Never one to waste an audience, she went for it.

She started from the godforsaken speed dating event (“A human experiment gone terribly wrong”), detailed the three walking-red-flags she got stuck with (“Honestly, one of them was just a talking cologne ad”), and then painted a vivid picture of the entitled gremlin who wouldn’t take the hint when her bestie told him she wasn’t interested.

“And then he grabbed her wrist like some medieval warlord claiming his land,” she seethed, rolling her eyes. “So naturally, I stepped in and told him to back the hell off.”

The Grinch gave her a knowing look. “And by ‘told him,’ you mean—?”

Johana cleared her throat. “Okay, so maybe I poured my drink on his overpriced shirt first.”

The Grinch dragged a hand down his face. “Of course you did.”

“To be fair,” she continued, “I was very polite about it! I even said oops—which, if you ask me, was very generous of me considering the circumstances.”

He exhaled slowly, like he was actively praying for patience. “And this is the part where you explain how you ended up wrestling him in the middle of the bar?”

Johana waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that was just physics at work. See, after the drink incident, he got pissy and called me some very unoriginal names, and then—”

“You hit him.”

No!” she gasped, feigning insult. “How dare you assume I resorted to violence?”

The Grinch leveled her with a look. “Ruiz.”

She grinned. “Fine, fine. I gently introduced my knee to his reproductive system. Barely even made contact.

The Grinch let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d describe it that way in his hospital report.”

Johana grinned, pleased with herself. “Oh, are we admitting I was right now?”

“I’m admitting you’re a menace,” he corrected, but the smirk stayed. “That’s not the same thing.”

She shrugged. “Same difference.”

He sighed, but there was something lighter in the way he looked at her now, something almost amused despite his best efforts to look unimpressed.

“I should take you straight to holding for this.”

“But you won’t,” she countered, eyes gleaming.

“And why’s that?”

Johana leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Because deep down, you know that douchebag deserved it.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then exhaled in surrender, shaking his head. “You are so much trouble.”

She grinned. “And yet, here you are. Stuck with me. Again.



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