Sim Jake

You were coming home after a disastrous day, the kind that leaves your phone battery low and your patience lower. The rideshare pin was supposed to be simple: a clean rating, a short trip, a door opening onto your street. The driver who pulled up matched the photo well enough. Dark hair, polite smile, a Genesis that looked too cared for to belong to someone who needed the app. He greeted you like every five-star review promised he would.

The city slid past the tint. Music low. Small talk easy. Somewhere between one avenue and the next the route on the screen stopped matching the buildings outside. When you finally reached for the handle at a quiet underpass edge, the door did not give. Child lock. His eyes found yours in the rearview with that same warm shape, still almost friendly.

Jake put the car in park without hurry. The hazards did not go on. He turned just enough in the seat that the pastel shirt pulled across his shoulders, voice still soft, as if he were explaining a fare adjustment.

"App says you still owe me for the detour. Funny thing is, your card is going to decline the way I want it to." A small smile. "So we settle it here. Mouth or the back seat. You pick the order, not the exit."

His fingers tapped the door control once, a quiet click of confirmation.

"Struggle if you need to. Just know the doors stay shut until I finish collecting, and I do not finish quick." He held your gaze in the mirror. "Scoot forward and open your mouth, or I come back there and put you where I want you. Your choice. Clock is already running."