we were stardust

.

“Del are you seriously here to talk to me about Jackson and King?” he couldn’t help but laugh. Jackson was going to win the mayoral seat, and him and King were going to disagree on absolutely everything and Hunter was not going to do anything about it. No. He was going to encourage it if anything. He had no plans on getting between the two, for all he cared they could burn each other up and Hunter would not do anything to help put the fire out.  “I am exactly where I am supposed to be Del. I am the Serpent King. The Repears mean nothing to me. I’m worried that there might be some blood on my new shirts but nothing else. Are you here to talk to me just about those two or something else? Because if it’s just about them then I think this conversation is over.” 

-

She was quiet for a moment before she straightened slightly, eyes like green bottles smoothened by the sand. “Well I’m a Reaper.” She said finally. “Do I mean nothing to you?” She closed some distance between them. “If something happens to me... you wouldn’t care?” At the end of the day, she wanted to protect her family too. She couldn’t have anything blow up, not if it meant having the people she loved the most getting hurt in the process. 

She bared her teeth and all of a sudden, a flash of anger overcame her. 

“I’m here because I’m trying to get you to come home to me, Hunter. Like I always am... And no matter what you tell me, I’m still not going to give up till you do.” She was recklessly stubborn that way.

.

“Not one but a couple. Impressive Delphine.” Hunter smirked, unable to hold back his laugh. “You have a solution to all your problems don’t you?” He knew the look in her eyes, that was not an innocent I want to change the energy of your living space look, it was an I’m worried Hunter look, one which Hunter had been on the receiving end of many times. Did he feel guilty for putting Delphine through this? No. Hunter never felt guilty about it because he never asked her to worry. Even back when he was with the Reapers she would look at him like this and even though he cared for her it never was enough to stop him from doing what he wanted to do.  Looking down as she rested her hands on his knees, he leaned forward towards her and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Stop.” he whispered. “That was just a dream. Stop.” He did not want to get angry, he did not want an argument and he did not want Delphine sat here having the same conversation with him again. “I am home Del. This is my home now.” 

-

She closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her forehead, only to let out a disappointed huff when he dismissed her fears. Her mouth pulled itself into a grimace before she stubbornly shook her head, reaching out to grasp at his hand. 

“Jackson’s going to win.” She said without a shadow of a doubt. She knew that Jackson was going to win the mayoral seat. She knew that he was going to claim it (fair and square, even, because he was very good at playing politician). “He’s going to win, and I know King and him are going to disagree on almost everything. They’re going to do something stupid, and you not... you not being where you’re suppose to be-” 

With her. With them. Back with the Reapers... 

“Aren’t you worried?” 

-

There’s a flinch to her nimble body, and it isn’t long before Jackson can feel the change in their disposition. It seemed to happen more and more, as his campaign took off to its heights. After the splendor of their ravenous fucking, they were well spent. But as their breathing regulated and the hum of satisfaction decreased, a whisper came from the shadows. A reminder of their differences, and of the people they inherently were. “My father’s a wise man. A great man.“ Jackson reminds her, defense prevalent in his tone. Most children rebelled. But not Jackson. He was firmly in his father’s pocket, believing in the virtues of the great Jackson Harding senior.

“It’s a free society. We’re allowed a difference in opinions.” He defends outright, shaking his head as Del looked to him gently. Her Emerald eyes were like hooks to the soul, tempting Jackson to say precisely what she wished to hear. It wouldn’t be the first time Jackson whispered sweet nothings, in exchange for peace. But maybe it was his pride, or belief in Del’s presence, that kept him honest. “Is safe what we call the firearms he’s buying and selling? Or the characters that come to town as a result?” He didn’t wish to debate the topic, but it seemed unavoidable now. “There’s more than one way to keep a town safe.” Sighing, he snaps his eyes to meet hers pointedly. “Do you really want to argue about this?”

-

“Yes but you're not him, Jackson.” She said, far too quick for her liking. She didn’t want to say it, but a part of her was worried that maybe one day, Jackson would become too much like his father. That he would become a man that Del wouldn’t be able to reel back in, a man that she couldn’t recognize. She knew how much Jackson looked up to him... and it always rubbed her the wrong way. She pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying anything more before shaking her head as well, eyes fixed on the mole just by his heart. 

“He keeps us safe.” She said almost stubbornly, as if not wanting to explain herself any further. She knew that the Reapers’ means were unconventional, but at the end of the day, it did the job. Twin Lakes was safe because of them, and they kept bad men off their streets by directing them elsewhere. ‘There will always be bad men, Del. It’s just a matter of making sure you know how to control them.’ King had once told her, and she believed him. 

She then met his gaze and a shiver ran up her spine. It was no secret that Jackson and her clashed. They always have and perhaps always will... but there was also this magnetic pull that had her coming back to him time and time again... and honestly she didn’t want to argue. She pressed her lips together before pulling away completely and walking back to his room. “If we argue about this we will never see the end of it.” She said with a sigh, sitting on his bed and glancing down at her hands. “And tonight was a good night... I don’t want to ruin it with a fight.” Her voice got soft, brows furrowing slightly in thought. 

“And just so that it is on the record I would say no. You do not get to have a copy of this key. Not happening.” Hunter had known Delphine his whole life, she had been there through the ups and the downs and even though a split had happen and she chosen her side she still never fully left the Serpent King. “Hey don’t frown otherwise you’ll get wrinkles.” he teased.  “My mind has been a tornado for my whole life baby girl. Changing my furniture is not going to fix that but I’m not going to stop you if it’s going to make you feel better.”  Hearing Delphine tell him that she loved him was nothing out of the ordinary, it was not a sudden shocking revelation, it was a fact that he had known for years and used to his advantage for years. Hunter could never give Delphine the love which she wanted or the one which she deserved. Delphine deserved more than this town could give her, she deserved more than Jackson or anyone else in her life. Most of all she deserved better than being in love with a rotten soul like Hunter Hayes.  “So you’re here to use me as a distraction?” he laughed, walking towards the coach and taking a seat. 

-

“Then I’ll just keep picking your locks.  No biggie.” She said with a sparkling smile. She nudged one of his vases to the left before finally dusting off her hands and walking towards him with a shake of her head. “And don’t worry, I’ve slept with a couple’a plastic surgeons. I’m sure they’d give me a good deal on botox.” She watched him move to the couch and let out a sigh of exasperation. 

Despite her feelings for Hunter, first and foremost he was her friend. One of her oldest friends if she were being honest... And she was worried about him. Worried about how one day, this schism between him, King and Jackson would blow up in their faces. 

She made her way over to him and plopped down onto the floor in front of him, resting her hands on his knees and looking up at him with imploring eyes. 

“I have this... I have a gut feeling something bad’s gonna happen, Hunt...” She started, tone suddenly soft as she worried her bottom lip. “I had a really bad dream last night that things’ll go south soon and...” She had asked him of this many times before, but she felt one more time wouldn’t hurt. “Can you please just come home?” She didn’t have to specify. 

The Reapers were always her home. 

.

“Are you sure you picked the locks or did you just make yourself a copy of my keys the last time you had snuck in?” Hunter asked, rolling his eyes at her comment. “But if you say they are easy to pick then I will have to get even better locks…can’t have a hellcat sneaking into my house. First you, then someone else with a gun to my head, can’t take the risk.” He shrugged.  Trying to make sense of what the blonde was going on about seemed impossible. “My house’ energy? Delphine are you hearing yourself right now? I don’t give a fuck about the energy of my house. The couch looks pretty good there.” 

Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at her response to the mentioning of Ophelia, the two were not exactly the best of friends and he knew that. “Oh you know….since she designed the whole place. Why do you have a sudden interest in my living arrangements? Did you see me in your dream or something Delphine?”

-

“I’m crazy, baby, but not girlfriend-crazy. If I wanted to make a copy of your key, I’d ask for it. ” She shot him a Cheshire grin and quickly nudged a mirror a few degrees to the left. She then let out an offended huff, swerving around to face him directly. “First of all, I shouldn’t just be a Hellcat to you. I’ve known you way before any of that.” She then closed the distance between them with a scowl tugging at her lips, hands on her hips. 

“Second, and perhaps more importantly... you don’t give a fuck about the energy of your house?! The place you live in?!” Her eyes blazed with a new kind of frustration. “Do you know what might happen to you if your energy is messed with? Because it’s not pretty. I once left a mirror in front of my bed and my mind was a tornado for a week!” 

Her frown then deepened further. 

“Why am I-... Oh I don’t know, Hunter. I guess the fact that I’ve been in love with you for nearly our entire friendship has me doing these things.” She rolled her eyes before sidestepping him once more to pick up a potted plant. It wasn’t a secret that she had, for so long, had feelings for him. She had even told him so a few months into knowing him. Confidently announcing that she was going to change his mind one way or another. She paused for another moment before letting out a growl. “Also I’m quite annoyed with two thirds of your little... sad, broken, ex-friendship triangle, so I thought to visit you.” 

.

Finding a drink was easy for Josephine Harding when her family owned not only a liquor store but also the private bar in the town she called home. It was a quiet evening at the The Blind Pig and Jo was sat by the bar enjoying a cold drink as she flicked through the accounts books. She never pictured herself back in this town, when she left for college she thought that was it, his chapter of her life was closed….she was wrong. Her life started when she came back and was handed the keys to the Harding family business. 

When she was younger she learnt to blend into the background and use that to her advantage. Everyone was always so focused on what Jackson Harding was going to do that she was often overlooked, her decisions and actions held no weight compared to her brother’s. He was the mayor now and still had all the eyes on himself but Josephine had created a world of her own. She had successfully taken over and was leading and managing the family business just like her father had taught her.  She could feel his gaze fall onto him every now and then but she refused to turn her head to look back. She would not give him that satisfaction. Taking a sip of her drink she was distracted by the numbers on the page when his voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. A small laugh left her lips and she turned in her seat to face him. “I think you are forgetting who owns this bar Mr.King. I’d say you were here to see me. Are there no other spots for you to hang out?” 

-

“Mr. King? Come now, Peaches, I don’t see my father anywhere here.” He glanced down and allowed his eyes to move across her in blatant admiration. He had always found Josephine beautiful, and in this light... in this light she was captivating. And what was some harmless flirting? Despite their... tense relationship, be it because of familial ties, their complicated past and their lack of interaction recently, they couldn’t erase the fact that they had been a part of each other’s lives for a good chunk of it. 

He slid into the seat beside her before ordering a drink of his own. 

“Is this your way of telling me I’m no longer welcome here? I’m a paying member by the end of the day.” He thanked the bartender for his beer before taking a long swig. 

“Surely you’d miss me then.” 

-

“Hey! It’s a compliment.” Ophelia defends with a raspy laugh, leaning against the wall as she surveyed the blonde carefully. The delicate balance of their ‘friendship’ was built on little else than mutual friends and a marred history. It had been that way since they were girls, and if history was to be relied upon, would remain that way well into their forties. “The girls back at the Nunnery wish they had your body.”

Glancing down at her shopping bags, she turns to her with a self-satisfied smile. “What can I say? I work hard. I’ve earned it.” The passive sentence is layered with a glance down at Del’s own wears. Undoubtedly, a result of her popularity and name rather than the work she put into it. At least, by Ophelia’s standards. “And anyways, Hunter’s in desperate need of a refresh. I’m tired of trying to scrub off paint and blood off his shirts.” She gestures to the men’s department store bag.

-

A genuine smile managed to tug at Delphine’s lips. “Yes, I know. Being beautiful is pretty much my favorite thing about me... and that’s saying something because I quite like a lot of things about me.” Oh god, Jackson was really starting to rub off on her. “I would love to pay the girls a visit though. I like to keep myself up to date on the new trends happening in the bedroom and brothels are the best place to learn.” 

As Ophelia continued to talk though, her smile slowly faltered till it was nothing but a pinched line on her face. 

“That’s awfully... thoughtful of you.” She finally said, ignoring the envy that began to crawl up her chest. It wasn’t a secret that Del had been in love with Hunter for as long as she could remember... And it also wasn’t too big of a secret that she didn’t necessarily like the closeness between Ophelia and the president of the Serpents. She was quiet for a beat before clearing her throat. “He looks great in... ahem... he looks great in maroon.” 

-

“Only the best.” He guarantees with an easy shrug. There were few women that resembled a constant in his life, and even fewer who received the wide spectrum of Jackson’s changing moods and whims. While Del was undoubtedly familiar with his self-indulgence, his unflinching fury, and his perverse sense of right and wrong… He had also revealed the less brutish parts of himself. The old fashioned gentleman, primed by generations of Harding men. The overly generous friend and lover, that thought of sensibilities very few would. In essence, the parts of him that existed for a small number of people – including Del.

“You’re also a Dupont.” Jackson reminds her shrewdly. Despite her loyalties to King and her menial job as his receptionist, she was still a Dupont. A family whose wealth, while not equal to the Harding’s, secured a place in Twin Lakes’ upper crust. “People will always want things from people… like us.” It was a speech Jackson had heard many times, from the senior Jackson Harding. One that, despite Del’s familiarity with the underground, seemed to be less spoken of.

His hands smooth along the curve of her shoulders, selecting his words carefully. The art of politicking made him adept to circumventing the difficult conversation. Yet, he refused to make false promises. In part, to preserve his own leverage of power. He couldn’t have Del singing words of ‘he’s not that bad’ to the Reapers, now could he? “Only if he gives me a reason.” Jackson finally answers, before turning the conversation around. “Will he?”

-

“You’re also a Dupont.” Delphine felt herself tense, her last name ringing like chains around her neck. She was aware of her circumstances, aware of the weight her family name carried, like a damn boulder she had to push up a never ending mountain. “You’re starting to sound like your father.” She said despite her knowing that this wasn’t a new development. Jackson had always been a reminder of who she was at the end of the day. She could camouflage herself as a Hellcat as much as she wanted, but it still wouldn’t be enough. 

She tried to find some comfort in his touch but found that their conversation continued to veer off course. She pressed her lips together before swallowing the lump in her throat. 

“That’s not fair. King’s right is your wrong half the time, and the other half keeps us guessing.” She looked up at him almost imploringly. “He’s a good man. King just wants what’s best for us. He protects us. Keeps the town safe... You must want that to, right?” 

Hunter groaned when he heard the noises coming from his living room, it was too early to have to deal with someone…too early in Hunter time anyway, for normal people it was the middle of the afternoon. Getting up from his bed and taking his gun he walked down towards the living room only to be faced with the familiar face of a blonde who always managed to find a way into his house…Hunter stopped asking how that happened a long time ago.  “Fucking hell Delphine.” he sighed, picking up a t-shirt from the chair it was draped on and pulled it over his head. “Do you just walk into houses and start rearranging furniture? Is that the kind of shit King forces you guys to do now?” he asked as he looked around the room which had turned into a mess. “Help? Help you with what?” Hunter had so many questions he wasn’t sure where to begin. “Fix the what? What the fuck are you going on about Delphine? What the fuck are you doing here anyway?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the situation and how irritated the petite blonde looked. “Ophelia is going to be so mad at this Delphine.” 

-

She shot him a beatific smile. Shamelessly, she allowed her eyes to rove over him, humming in admiration at his state of undress, pink crawling up her neck and cheeks before finally she pulled her eyes back up to his. “Only for people that I like. King isn’t too fond of it actually, so he got better locks.” She took a step closer to him, only to shoot him a wink. “Yours are just much easier to pick.” She then side stepped him with in a flurry of yellow and purple, picking up a lamp and nudging him with her hip. 

“And you can help me with fixing your house’ energy. It’s all over the place, and I think it’s because of your poor furniture placement. Did you know it’s bad luck to have your couch facing the way it was facing?” She shook her head in disapproval.

Only to stiffen at the mention of Ophelia. “Since when did she have a say in your living layout, hmmm?” 

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. King.” The smarmy bastard had the audacity to looked pleased with himself. King, however, would let it pass. He stood up when the older gentleman did, taking the man’s hand in a solid shake. “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” He shot the other a grin of his own before watching him file out of the bar, smile thinning till it was nothing more than a line.

“Follow him. Make sure he gets his ass out of my town.” He said lowly to the two Reapers that flanked both his sides. They nodded before walking out as well, the tell tale sounds of two engines growling just outside like a warning from the angels of death. With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the rest of his members who had been with him for the exchange before making his way over to the bar where he had known she’d been sitting all this time. 

Where he had been glancing over whenever he allowed himself to sneak a peek. 

“You’re not here for me are you, Peaches?” He hummed, standing just behind her, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants. The Blind Pig wasn’t a place for denim and leather after all. 

-

The last time Jackson set foot in King’s Auto, it was the summer of junior year. He distinctly recalled pulling up in his first car, and hollering at his car-savvy friends to marvel at the sight of it. A different time, when Jackson’s presence did not prompt a turn of the eye or an instinctive reach for the holster.

He expertly averts his gaze from the blond, whose all-too-expressive features all but gave away her position. As humored as Jackson was by the sight, he did not come for it. Rather, he came for the King himself. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to get a tattoo before dropping in.” The practiced, theoretically good-natured comment of a politician. But King knew Jackson better, as he did in turn. “My usual guy’s out of commission right now. Figure you’d want the business.” Jackson tosses his car keys, allowing the luminous logo of his limited edition Lamborghini to catch the light. A silent insinuation of the attention, and high price tag, he would be footing the establishment. Everyone knew Jackson Harding was the next mayor, and the attention of his coming and going’s was growing exponentially by the dya.

-

King stood still for a moment before turning to Del, one look and the receptionist couldn’t help but scurry off. Glancing back every now and then before finally disappearing into the garage, most likely to tell all the other mechanics what was going on. Fucking gossips, all of them. King let out a sigh before pulling out a clipboard from one of the cabinets, grimacing slightly at the stickers Del had placed on the back. 

Without blinking, he caught the keys Jackson tossed, frown deepening. 

“Not all business is good business.” He said, lips thinned out as he contemplated the gesture. “Knowing you, there must be some ulterior motive. You say one thing only to mean something else.” King then felt his lips pull into a smirk. “Or are you just here to piss me off? You’re in Reaper territory, Jackson. I never considered you to be an idiot.”

@stxrdustcd​

“I think you deserve it.” Ophelia all but gushed, peering from behind Del’s shoulder unexpectedly, glancing down at the dress in hand. With the growing industries of Twin Lakes, it was easy to forget it was a small town. That is, until you appear shoulder-to-shoulder with an unexpected friend. Since the rise of the Serpent’s, Ophelia’s insatiable appetite grew in ten-fold. Yet while Hunter amused himself with lovers, Ophelia found her satisfaction in money. And, more importantly, the things it could buy.

She had seen the familiar sight from the corner of her eye, as she emerged from the cashier with a handful of shopping bags. With half a mind to pretend not to see her, she opted to steer towards her instead. It had been awhile, and Ophelia was hankering for a most amusing exchange. “If you’re worried about the color, don’t worry. With tits like yours, no one will even notice how it washes you out.” She expresses with a friendly smile, peering up at her friend – if one could call it that.

-

Del didn’t often shop by herself. No, she was given things, by her parents, by the numerous men that thought they could win her over with things, by Jackson when she could persuade him to pay for her cart... no, she didn’t need to go shopping. But today, she felt the sudden urge to. Maybe because she thought she might pass by the Serpents today. See Hunter... Look cute while she’s at it. 

But of course the universe thought to play a joke on her while she was out. 

She froze slightly at the familiar voice before finally pulling up a smile, twirling around to face Ophelia with an innocent tilt of her head. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Phe.” Del replied with a shake of her head. “Doing some shopping of your own? I suppose the Nunnery is doing well.” 

-

He barely blinks at her response, the words echoed from Del’s pert lips as familiar as the sunrise. It was a routine that had become so predictable, Jackson could not help but ponder what fueled its continuity. A mutual disdain, perhaps, of the other’s choices in life. Though, if that were the case, he would still be knee deep in his ex-fiance. It’s a thought he dismisses, in favor of the sight in front of him. There was something about the blond in this state that satisfied him. The dreamy glaze in her eyes, the hum to her voice, and even the way his shirt pulled across her body. It had always been enough to silence any questions Jackson had on the matter.

“At this point, I might as well keep a guy on retainer.” He knew, though, that the point was Del’s anonymity as she slinked back to the Reaper’s camp. To that, he adds as an after thought; “I’ll tell him to drop you off a block from King’s Auto, and pay him double to wait ‘till you’re inside.” Jackson thinks out loud, his hands instinctively grasping at her waist. With a quirk of his brow, he continues snobbishly. “Wouldn’t want that pretty mug of yours getting jumped at the bad part of town, would we?” With a leer, he intentionally reaches underneath her shirt, pinching her ass pointedly.

“Yeah?” Jackson challenges, leveling his eyes with her pointedly. His brows fussed, as if assessing her expressive features. “Who’s gonna have a problem with it?” The loaded query was accompanied with an unflinching stare, daring Del to speak of the man who loomed over their trysts.

-

“Get the nice taxi service though, okay? The one with the nice seats.” She smiled up at him coyly. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Jackson was a vice she couldn’t quit. One she wanted to so desperately, because she knew things would get complicated if she didn’t... but no, she was already far too tangled up in his web for her to let go. Her eyes then softened slightly because above all the other things she thought when it came to him , there was that constant reminder that behind all that bravado, there was a part of him that she really... really liked. 

The part of him that took care of her, that made her feel safe, that made her teeter between a line that she probably shouldn’t be on in the first place. She was quiet for a while before she shook her head to relieve herself of these thoughts. “I’m a Hellcat, Jackson. The underworld is our playground.” She said with a wrinkle of her nose before letting out a gasp at the sudden pinch on her ass. She shoved at him lightly only to have her smile waver.

Another silence. “You know who, Jackson.” She didn’t want to say King’s name. It made her feel bad. She didn’t like lying to her friend, didn’t like feeling the guilt she felt whenever she made her way into Jackson’s bed. She rested her hands on the man’s chest idly, dropping a kiss against his heart in a far too intimate gesture. “He thinks you’re going to hurt us.” It was a statement that sounded like a question.  

“Oh no no no no no...” Del felt glued to the floor, eyes wide from behind the front desk as she watched the door open and close, revealing a man far too well dressed for their auto-shop. A man she had seen just a few nights ago. She thought to maybe turn and run, because Jackson wasn’t suppose to be here. He wasn’t suppose to be here when King was-

“You lost, Harding?” She froze as a shadow loomed behind her. 

King narrowed his eyes at the man now standing in the middle of his autoshop. Hands resting on Del’s shoulders before slowly maneuvering her away so he was now manning the desk. “You’re not our usual clientele.” 

It wasn’t a secret that Delphine was a touch bit reckless. And it wasn’t a secret that that recklessness had her dancing back and forth between camps like it was nothing. The Reapers knew it was an open secret, one that they didn’t bring up with King (mostly because he knew, but also pretended to not know for his own sanity), and she guessed that perhaps the Serpents knew, mostly because she never really stopped panting after their leader’s heels even after the great schism. 

Not to mention her ongoing affair with the incumbent Mayor. To sum it up, it was an explosion waiting to happen... Not that Delphine cared. No, what was more important was the fact that Hunter, the love of her life (despite him not knowing it yet), had a living space with horrible energy! She grumbled to herself in irritation as she continued to push at his couch to move it by the wall. “You can help, you know!” She huffed, turning to look at him with a small frown, hands on her hips. “I can’t fix the feng shui by myself!” 

@stxrdustcd​

“I’m going to win.” There was not a moment of hesitance, or even a mere question about it. Jackson Harding was bound for the mayoral seat. It was not just a birth right by virtue of his last name, but a title earned through the years of servitude. Granted, he did it with the help of his plush trust fund, but that was neither here nor there. He looks out into the foggy, night sky on the balcony of his apartment. It was the evening before polls closed, and he could feel it in his bones. He was going to win.

“And when I do, you’ll have to be more careful. Can’t be pulling up at my front door at all hours of the night anymore.” Despite the characteristic smugness in his tone, his words stood to reason. He turns his back to the view, his bare back leaning against the railing as he looked at the blond by the doorway. “Oh wait,” he pauses, a Cheshire cat grin on his face. “Is this the part where you say it’s the last time?”

-

While Del didn’t particularly like a lot of things about Jackson, his unwavering certainty in himself was something she did. It was that certainty that grounded her, calmed her nerves and truthfully... turned her on a lot of the time. She, however, would not let him know that anytime soon. She would not give him the satisfaction. Instead, she kept mum as she leaned against the frame of the terrace door, clad in only his white dress shirt, blonde hair tousled from having been in his bed. Again. 

“No, I’m saving that for later when I get in the taxi you’re going to pay for.” She said with a non-committal shrug of her own. She eyed him from where she stood before slowly making her way towards him so she could wrap her arms around his waist, still drunk on affection after being thoroughly fucked. “Careful isn’t necessarily a word people associate me with...” She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose in faux distaste. “You’re a cocky piece of shit, by the way. You can’t know you’re going to win.” She paused once more. “... I know a few people who aren’t going to be too happy if you do. Are you sure this is what you want?” Her thoughts drifted to King.