Bad Girls Club [Editing]

[1] You're a Thorn in My Side

This chapter is dedicated to my best friend and biggest support Arrow900 - since day one she's been there for absolutely EVERYTHING and I couldn't be more thankful for a friend like her

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Charlie felt like an old sock: worn out and reeking of sweat. Eliminating one of the leading sex-trafficking operators in the country from the planet was both physically and emotionally demanding. She had to allow his hands to outline and grip nearly every inch of her body and, worst of all, she had to make-believe that every moment of it was enjoyable.

Victor had grown to be more trouble for Charlie dead than when he was alive. Cleaning up his death to make it seem as if he and Charlie had sexual relations, as if Charlie had left once they had finished, and then make it look like his most prominent rival gang had broken into his room and slaughtered him later on in the evening was a wearisome task from the beginning.

Charlie needed to become a ghost; seen only by Victor himself and his security guards.

The entire procedure lasted approximately three and a half hours. Once she had both expunged every single trace of her being from the hotel and completed the necessary tasks Charlie still had to sneak through the lobby without being detected.

When all was said and done she desired nothing more than to hustle home, crash into bed, and snooze for days but her job had split over into a two-day ordeal and she had a previously scheduled engagement. Functioning for more than twenty four hours on no sleep was something Charlie loathed doing.

Specifically while in a dress.

Charlie dashed from within the confines of the parking garage that stood diagonal from the hotel, cruised down the highway, and concluded her drive twenty minutes later when she coasted into the visitor parking lot; Thorn lived in unit 307.

Charlie's weary legs trudged along the cracked sidewalk, concluding their walkway adventures at the end of the chipped concreted steps. Seizing the wobbly railing she slogged up the steps. Each step thundered, Charlie approaching the assumption that not even a mouse would be capable of tiptoeing up to his apartment. Surviving the strenuous trek she progressed and banged on his door.

Thorn flung open the door, sporting his signature fuming expression: pouted lip, narrowed cobalt eyes, and beefy arms overlapped against his chest. Even after Thorn's twenty three years of existence, he somehow succeeded in looking more and more like their mother every single day.

Once his brain identified Charlie as his older sister his arms dropped to his side and his eyes lit up.

"I should have figured it was you," he laughed, hurling his sister into a constricting bear hug.

"Look at you!" She exclaimed with enthusiasm. Once they detached she positioned her hands on his cheeks. "Someone got fat." She tugged to some extent on him like a grandma thenceforth thrusting her way into his apartment.

"That was the confidence boost I needed this morning," he remarked after kicking the door closed, strolling into the kitchen straightaway. "Care to explain why you look like a prostitute?" He hollered as he teetered around his cabinets.