Destructive Decisions

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Authors Note: Hey guys, I'm back!!! :) I'm really excited for you all to read this story even though this is very different from the others that I've written. That's all that I've got to say:) Enjoy <3

Your comments are highly appreciated :)

Warning: This book does contain GirlxGirl material, if you don't agree with that, don't read this book.

Chapter 1

The woman sat at the table closest to the door of the bar so that she could make a hasty exit if needed. She could smell the cigarette and marijuana smoke in the air even though the rusty metal sign that hung on the wall read 'no smoking allowed'.

The man sitting across from her was Bernardo Saint, the man that had helped her with her crimes for five years now. She lazily turned her head to look at the band that was playing on stage. They sounded terrible. Just like every other band that played at the old bar.

But no one was really paying attention to them. They were either drinking to get rid of sorrow that filled them because their significant other left them, or they were having a hard time at work. That's what they all came for, not a fun time that they were never going to forget. If they wanted that they wouldn't have gotten addicted to the liquid that sometimes killed people and destroyed families.

She on the other hand, doesn't drink. She hates it. Her mother hated it too before her father had gotten so drunk one night he had beaten her to death while the young girl was upstairs asleep in bed. Now, she goes to bars and kills the men that were like her father was. Cold hearted, unloving, fathers. The fathers that used the money that he had gotten from work to pay for booze instead of putting it towards his child's college fund.

Her eyes wandered to all of the baseball team pictures hanging on the wall and the trophies that were next to the alcohol section. She chuckled and turned towards Bernardo as he stared at someone to his right. "He's been staring at you for ten minutes now." He finally announced with a grin on his face. "Good, go to the car." She commanded and watched as he nodded. He moved his arm to get up, the rattle snake tattoo that slid up his arm slithered in place as he got ready to leave "don't forget the cards." He said as he finally walked out of the bar.

She chuckled and nodded, waiting for her partner-in-crime to exit the bar. She never forgot the cards. The cards were where the real money was at. If he had the cards, they didn't need to rob banks for the money they wanted. But, if he didn't have enough money, they'd just have to rob again. There was always another way to get the money.

The woman finally stood from her seat and pushed the chair in, checking to see if her white button up was unbuttoned enough to show some chest, but not breasts. She smoothed out her black skinny jeans and glided a hand over her back pocket to slide the baseball gloves out of it. She pulled the white leathered material onto her small smooth hands and put a hand over her abdomen to see if it was still there and not bulging. It was still there. Lucky for him.

She walked over to him slowly, making sure to sway her hips with each long stride that she took. Her combat boots making little-to-no noise over the sound of the band and peoples slurred speeches.

She caught his eye and watched him smile drunkly as she came close to him and put her lips close to his ear. "How much?" She whispered seductivly. "I got $30." He said back as she smiled. She nodded and pointed to a hallway that led to another one that no one went down. As he walked away she looked at his business suit and well kept dark brown hair, his wife had probably left him because of his drinking.

She finally sighed and went down the hall that the man had followed and found him leaning against the wall, with a irritated look on his face. "Just make it quick, I have to pick up my wife from work soon." He said as she grinned and nodded. Her eyes flickered to his left hand but she didn't see a wedding ring, of course she didn't, he left it in the car to attract the younger women in the bar. She had met a lot of men like that.

She smiled lightly and tugged on the mans purple tie, bringing him down to her level. She pressed her lips onto his rough, chapped ones, and grimaced at the taste of alcohol. She hated it when she had to go to the bars to do this.

She felt him kiss her more forcefully and she almost puked at the overwhelming taste of alcohol that invaded her mouth as she felt him shove his tongue into her mouth. She made herself kiss the unknown man back even though she felt like she couldn't do it.

After a few more minutes she felt him begin to unbuttoned the buttons on her shirt and that's when she started to back away, but slowly, not disconnecting their lips. That would be too suspicious.

She slid her hand up her shirt and felt the cold handle of the knife she had concealed in it and pulled it out without the man noticing the small action. She quickly pulled away from the mans lips and embedded the knife in the mans heart, the purple of his shirt turning black as the blood stained it. He gasped and fell, grasping the knife as the blood spilled onto the floor and he took his last remaining breath.

She smiled as she looked and saw that the hall was still empty. She turned the man over and pulled his wallet out of his back dress pant pocket. She opened it and looked at his drivers license. "Well Charlie from California, was that fast enough for you?" She asked the mans dead body as she took out the drivers license and put it on his chest, over the wound. The police needed some way to identify him.

She then took out all of the money from the mans wallet and got all of his credit cards out before tossing the wallet aside. She peeled off the baseball gloves, turning them inside out so the police could and try and identify her. But they wouldn't be able to, baseball gloves didn't leave fingerprints. The only woman that would know who did it was her biggest fan, Sergeant Barbati.

The woman smiled an evil smile as she thought about her storming in here and finding out they had no evidence to arrest her, she always did.

Or, how she sometimes would kick a bar stool over and curse as the other detectives watched her in shock.

That was her favorite. But, the Sergeant would never catch her, no matter how hard she tried. She got close, but would never get close enough to touch her long brown hair.

Finally, she went to the black Mustang that was sitting at the back door, waiting for her. "How much did you get?" He asked as she closed the door and fixed her hair. "About $200 in cash but there's probably a lot more on the cards." She replied with a faint French accent that she hated.

She looked over at her partner as he shook his head in annoyance. She knew what he was going to say next before he could even say it. But, she loved it when he said it. It meant that they could be bad again, and no one could stop them.

"We still need more. A lot more, and I know where to get it."

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