The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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MONET -- NOW
Monet's stomach growled as she sat back on Kid's couch. In her haste to get to her 'boyfriends' house, she'd ditched her plans to enjoy a meal with Pudding; unfortunately leaving the fate of her stomach to the rather angry redhead who had no intention of feeding her as he'd supposedly told her they were 'over'. Rather than giving into his wishes though, Monet opted to leach after him, unwilling to accept his words for fear that it'd truly be 'over'. He was the only good in her life, after all.
Taking a quick swig of her beer to settle her stomach, she found the taste oddly sour, probably due to the frustrated pacing of her beau. When he seated himself on the couch with an irritated growl, she coyly scooted over to his side, curvaceous body molding to his own before she slipped her fingers through his hair, untangling the soft red strands with a smile.
"Something on your mind?" Monet quietly asked, finding herself growing restless when Kid moved his tawny eyes her way; the golden orbs narrowing on her with an indescribable squint, expression unreadable and serious before he stood up, shoving her hands aside with a grunt.
With a mere, 'It doesn't concern you,' he prowled to his bedroom and slammed the door, irritated that she'd continued to linger despite the harsh words he'd flat out laid on her only days before.
Monet's stomach twisted slightly, and the beer she'd been drinking suddenly became tasteless. Anger was not an emotion she handled well. She didn't give enough of a shit about most people to feel angry for things, but Kid was different.
Fingers tightening on the leather edges of the couch, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through the messages, only stopping when she relayed a quick message to Pudding.
It was a simple picture, one depicting you in Kid's bed the night he'd brought you home from the party, dead drunk and sobbing. It'd only been by luck that she'd been able to snap a quick pic. that night before leaving, deeming it valuable evidence for when a time would come when she would need it. And that time was now.
With a wicked leer, she sent it.
This incriminating piece would certainly set things in motion.
You would learn not to mess with her... or Pudding, for that matter, as stupid as that girl may be.
Pudding
Monet: Get things done.
Delivered at 6:34 PM
Standing from her spot, she moved to the edge of the room, eyes falling upon the untouched desk by his office, no doubt containing valuable documents she'd need in her later... expeditions. With a quick check to make sure that Kid was nowhere in sight, she moved, lithe fingers pulling the bobby pin from her hair before she clicked open the safe and roved through the mass of files.
