Title: Bein' A Good Goil Author: Katie Louden Rated: R for language and some sensual scenes Summary: Charlie Summers is a girl hiding out in a lodging house across from a bank she robbed. When the cops disperse she plans on going back out again, but will someone keep her from going back to being a bad goil? I suck at summaries, so just read it. and review it!

Chapter One---The Bank, The Boy, The New Place, The New Plan "Good evening." Charlie Summers smiled alluringly. "Yes. I'm the Manhattan Bank manager Bob Carpenter." Charlie tapped her slim fingers on the desk she was sitting beside. "I was trying to speak to your employee here. He doesn't seem to understand what I'm trying to do." "And what is that?" "I'm trying to get out my brother's money. He died recently and left me it all." "Name?" "His?" Charlie inquired. Bob nodded. "Yes, what's his full name?" "Robert Duval Pulitzer." Bob chuckled, as did the employee. "Pulitzer?" the manager chuckled, "You're related to Mr. Pulitzer? What's your name girlie?" "Barbara Anne Margaret." "And," Bob chuckled again, "you're related to Pulitzer?" Charlie raised her eyebrows and chuckled along with the two. "No, and I figured you wouldn't believe me." She cocked her head to the side and stated, "Actually, I'm here to rob your bank." The men immediately stopped laughing. "Yeah, that's why I'm here." She stared into the employee's eyes. He was scanning her, remembering every part of her body, every curve and hair and piece of clothing. "Don't stare at me unless you want a hole shot into your head." Charlie crossed her legs. "Now, I want you to calmly place all of the money in your bank vault into a bag. I'm going to sit here and wait. If anything happens, and I mean ANYTHING, I'm going to take my gun out and shoot your brains out of your ears. Got it? I want you, Mr. B, to stay where you are. You," she stated, pointing to the employee, "are going to get the money. Wrong move, and your boss is gone. I'd give anything to kill my boss, or get him killed, but you two seem to get along just fine." She chuckled. The employee quickly scampered off and Charlie watched him out of the corner of her eye. "How do we even know you have a gun?" Bob asked her. Charlie cracked a smile, still watching the employee, "Do you want to test me?" "You could be bluffing." Charlie's nostrils flared. "I COULD just pull out my gun now and prove I'm not." The employee came back with a bag, not very full at all. "We just gave all of our money to a center in New Jersey. That's all that's left," he explained. "How much?" Charlie snarled. He gulped, "Uh. at least 1 hundred dollars." It wasn't much to a bank, but to Charlie it meant everything. She grabbed the bag. "Thanks. Now, I'm going to walk out of here. You'll cry out for help and whatnot, but let me just tell you. If I hear you scream I'll come running back and kill you both, and anyone else in my path." She winced, adding, "That means that you might lose customers. Not good." She got up, her clean, light green dress dragging slightly on the floor. As she reached the doors, she turned back, seeing that the two men had already started running for the back doors. Charlie dashed through the doors and around a corner. She picked up her speed and then turned into an alley. She ripped off the brown wig she had put on her head and threw it into the purse she had placed in the alley. Then she took off the glasses she had on. Finally, she put the bank bag into the purse and walked coyly out of the alley. Police were running from all directions to where she just had been. She followed them, sure that she wouldn't be recognized. A cop stopped her. "Did you see a women running with a bag?" he inquired. Charlie wanted to chuckle. '. A women running with a bag'. What detail. Ha. She held it in and shook her head. As she watched the bank being surrounded by cops, she didn't realize someone was doing the same. The two bumped into each other. "Watch where ya goin' punk! Ya tryin' ta kill somebody?" she hollered, giving herself a New York accent, so as not to attract any attention to her real accent. She looked at the boy she had run into. He had a look of worriment and horror in his eyes. She grimaced. 'Pathetic'. "Sorry," he murmured. Charlie had a plan. She lunged forward onto the boy, forcing tears to come from her eyes. "Oh!" she cried, "I tink I'se got's a pain in me stomach now! I tink you'se hit me da wrong way!" Her acting was horrific, but the boy seemed to believe it. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, holding awkwardly onto Charlie. "I tink I'se need ta rest somewhere's!" she cried. "I'se. I'se Jack. You'se can rest if ya need ta. I'se got a place, sorta." Charlie glanced up at him quickly. "Sorta?" He shrugged. "Da." Charlie spotted the employee from the bank and she told Jack, "All right! Let's go!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him around the corner. Jack took her to his place, The Newsboys Lodging House. "Dis is it," he told her. She rolled her eyes. "Great," she mumbled. She quickly asked him, "Where's ya bathroom?" Jack took her upstairs and showed her the bathroom area. "It's der." "I'll be right out!" she growled, dashing to a stall. "Well," Jack murmured, "when ya gotta go ya gotta go." Charlie placed the purse on top of the toilet, making sure it wouldn't fall in. She opened it up and took out the bank bag. Then she glanced in the bag. Her mouth dropped. It was all paper. Crumpled up paper. "Fuck!" she screamed. Jack grimaced. "Need any." "No!" Charlie stood on top of the toilet and glanced out of the window above it. The bank was right across the street. The police were still there. She pounded the window. "Fuck!" she bellowed again. She stopped for a minute. Her anger was overruling her conscience and she wanted to kill that employee. She knew from the minute she had walked into the bank that he would cause trouble. As she slapped her forehead, she wished she had checked the bag before leaving. "I'll get him back," she mumbled, "When it all cools off." She kicked the stall door open and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her dyed, short, blonde hair was sticking up at all ends, but looked considerably good. Her skin was glowing red with anger along with her green eyes, and her lips were in a tight grimace. She stalked towards Jack with her purse. "I'm gonna stay here," she told him. "Uh." Charlie stuck her hand out to him. "The name's Charlie. I'm kind of." "Ay, you don't got da New Yawk accent anymore," he pointed out. Charlie rolled her eyes and repeated, "DA name's Charlie. And neva'mind about da otha' part." He shrugged and ignored her hand. "I guess if you'se wanna stay here. Dis is da NewsBOYS Lodgin' House dough." "Well, who cares?" She looked around. "Where's all da boys?" she asked him. "'Tibby's'"," he stated. Charlie nodded. "Well, den let's go der." She walked out the door. Jack followed, shaking his head. "Dis is gonna be fun."

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