I am fuming. I can't believe I was duped. Part of me wants to storm out, right now, and murder her with a knife (which I have hidden in my combat boots).

Unfortunately, a murder would most likely put a target on my head. Who knows, Maya could be part of some gang, and they would definitely retaliate. This city isn't someplace to mess with. Its occupants are ruthless and unforgiving.

If Maya is part of a gang, that would totally explain why I'm angry right now. Angry doesn't cover it. I've failed in my mission for the first time, and all because of a measly woman who cries easily.

I shove the packet into my pocket. I don't want to look at it anymore. It's just annoying me too much.

I push the swinging toilet door open and entered the bar again. Jay is waiting for me, a hand in his pocket. He now had a black mask pulled over his face, so only his eyes show. "Well?" He asks.

My fists curl. I snarl "Where's that woman?"

Jay lifts a shoulder. "She left the bar. How much?"

"Look, I got tricked," I say, my fury rising again. I try to turn around and scan the bar for Maya, but all I see is a mass of grey clouds and occasionally a white puff of a cloud. It's distracting and painful, and my head spins.

To my surprise, Jay stands upright, pushing off from the wall. "Well, shoot. Let's go hunting," he says darkly.

"Hunting? Or killing?" My comment darkens the mood even more, and reluctantly, we both laugh. Even though we're both furious with Maya for playing us.

We take off on a jog outside the street. The streets have snow piling up on them, with the streetlamps casting dusky yellow glows on the road. Smells of freshly cooked food permeate the air, and I wish I could be eating now. But hey, guess what? I'm chasing a damn trickster.

Jay laughs as he jogs, not even winded. "Angel, we don't even have a right to be chasing this Maya. We deserve it, you know?"

"Well, it's our job. Unless you have a suggestion to make me earn money?" I ask, huffing.

"Angel."

"What?"

"Chill."

I open my mouth to retort but Jay beats me to it. "So what was in the packet?"

My anger threatens to bubble to the surface, and I feel like I'm about to explode from all the pent up frustration. With great effort, I push my red-hot anger back down until it lessens to a slow simmer. "Toilet paper!"

Jay stops jogging and doubles over, gasping and laughing. "No. Way."

And there he goes laughing like a hyena again. The iconic Jay Hyena laugh. Crossing my arms, I glare at him. "You think I'm joking?"

"Yeah!"

That's it. I shake my fists at him and take off at a crazy pace. I want to run so fast he won't ever catch up with me. That jerk-

Until I crash straight into- oh, wait. It isn't a person. No, no. And it isn't a wall, like those stories. It's a freaking streetlamp. And it hurts.

Jay has caught up by now, because he has way longer legs. He grips the back of my shirt and yanks me back. "Gosh, did you dent the streetlamp?"

"Dear me, what's that?" A voice simply oozing sarcasm sounds to my right. I whip to the side, ready to slash the person with a knife. Stay cool, Angel.

My eyes widen in shock. I temporarily forget all about injuring the sarcastic person, because man is he handsome.

Then I forget all about the guy. Because my forehead is throbbing with pain and I am sure a big bruise is forming.

"Who's that? Is she okay?" A voice I knew very well exclaims from behind the handsome guy, and dear trickster Maya appears.

I eye her. "No," I say slowly. "I am definitely not okay. Do you know why?"

And to my horror, the guy laughs. Yes, he actually laughs and says "Ah, she's the scammer!"

Jay grabs my arm. "Now, how about we walk away slowly and say bye bye?" He asks, talking very slowly like he's talking to a baby.

I shake free. "Whoa. I am not a scammer. I'm not even a con artist. I am a con scientist."

His eyes widen in amusement. I can't really make them out under the streetlight, but I'm positive they are different colours. "Well, I'm not really here to debate on that. I just wish you wouldn't scam people like Maya here. Who happens to be my sister."

I gulp. Look at Jay. This guy is actually taller than Jay and I...so uh...h...help...

Jay approaches the guy and put on a false smile. "We thank you for the toilet paper gift, then. And we really need to go. Bye bye!" He waves cheerily.

Then Jay's arm shoots out and he clamps onto my arm, dragging me away. "This ain't over!" I call.

"Shut up," Jay says while running.

"Jeez. Okay. Am I not allowed to sulk because I just failed?" I ask.

"Let's report back to Boss, okay?"

In a voice heavy with sarcasm, I answer "Yes, we'll report to Kent."

Here's what happens later. When Jay and I burst into the bar, our cheeks flushed red from the run, and shivering from the cold outside, Kent looks up from Candy Crush and says "Oh, dear. You two made me lose!"

"Don't you have like five lives?" I huff, slamming the door.

Kent jumps.

"But I...already lost five times. Um..." he fidgets and plays with his fingers.

I snap my fingers.

Kent jumps.

Jay shoots me a cross look, before saying politely "Boss, we did not manage to extract a full sum of money, but we did take a small amount from her handbag."

We? No, that was all Jay's work. His pickpocketing skills. He shouldn't be crediting me. But Jay stops me and continues "We apologise for that. We will try better next time."

Kent takes off his glasses and stares at us, beady eyes moving side to side. It's actually quite creepy. Intimidating, even. "As a punishment, Angel, you will have to target this guy. Remington Tryston. He's worth millions. As long as you manage to con even a fraction of his fortune, you will be removed from my blacklist."

"What? I'm on your blacklist? You know how to keep lists?"

I clap my hands to my mouth, absolutely mortified. "Sorry," I say weakly. Not really. But still, I must appear polite.

"Remington Tryston is a stupid name," I say flatly.

Kent leans back in his seat, which he hasn't budged from all night and is most likely very warm from his butt. "No problem. I...I...I...ah! I will just cut your salary."

"Who earns-" I growl.

Jay taps on my arm. I stop, reluctantly. "Okay! Sorry, Kent! I'm at your service. I'll be at your beck and call!"

Kent smiles. "Really? That's lovely to hear. Listen, this is important. I am looking to recruit more members but will need more money. You have to make as much as you can from Tryston.  Fail, and you...you...oh, I know! You are fired. I will personally oversee your jailing."

"Wait-" I cried. "You'll dump me in jail?"

"Well, what do you propose? Uh..." he stutters.

"Okay. I won't fail this time."

Jay grins. "I'm sure you will."

Gritting my teeth, I spin on my heels and say as I walk out "Bye. I'm going."

"Want me to walk you, milady?"

"Shut up, Jay."

It's too late at night to visit her. I wish I could, really, but I don't think they'll allow me in.

As I walk the freezing streets, I'm struck by a chill that is colder than the frigid air around me. Suddenly I can feel her, next to me. Walking. Laughing with me. And then gone, just like that.

"Are you okay, lady who banged into a streetlamp?" Someone enquires to my left.

Rubbing my hands together, I stop and see the guy from earlier. His face is shadowed but his jawline is as defined as ever, even under the night sky. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, because I'm a stalker. Is that what I'm supposed to say?" He notices my expression and shakes his head. "Sorry. Let me rephrase that. Because I was just walking by and coincidentally saw you."

"Okay, this has gone far enough. It isn't funny," I say, ready to make a dash for it. Who knows, his entire gang could be lurking in the shadows.

"Well, actually, Maya was with me earlier, so I didn't really do anything to you. But now that she's out of the way, I am going to warn you- mess with her, and you'll be dead." His cordial tone switches to a menacing one.

"Okay," I mutter.

"Con artists like you are the worst. You play off people's feelings. Don't you feel a shred of remorse? Maya went to the bar tonight to forget her woes. Why couldn't you let her do it just for tonight? When she needed it the most?"

When she needed it the most.

I fall back a step. The words feel like a slap in the face. Had anyone ever said that about me? When I lost her, and I needed care the most?

"I...I don't want to talk anymore," I say and try to walk to his side, but he blocks me.

"You don't understand what it's like," he says. "Maya didn't need to be crushed even more by a stranger. She didn't need to have her trust betrayed one more time."

His words are bringing up unpleasant memories, and I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. 

"I need to go," I say, my voice shaking now. My hands are trembling like leaves and I can't control them at all. "L...let me go."

In times like this, I have only one place to go.

The graveyard.

Readers: In case anyone wants to know what prompt I used for the novella contest, it goes something like this: you can see sorrow hanging over people's heads like a cloud, which helps in your job. The comment section for that was suggesting stuff like psychologists, but the psychotic me thought- hey, let's do a criminal instead. :) so this story was born.

Do vote and comment if you liked it, thank you!