Charlie Pace Novels & Stories

Charlie blinked. “Sir?” River glanced over his shoulder. “Her date. Name. Family. Anything I should know.” Charlie cleared his throat. “Caleb,” he said. “Last name Miller. Junior. Football team. No priors. Average grades. Parents divorced. Lives with his mom.” River turned fully now, eyebrow lifting. “You already ran him.” “It was relevant,” Charlie said evenly. River huffed a quiet laugh and returned to his desk. “Good work.” He tapped the tablet once, then looked up again. “And you?”

“I’m sorry about your team losing.” Maxwell chuckled. Unlike their first meeting at the pool party, Charlie could now see his face clearly. He had a clean-shaven look, short hair, hazel eyes, and a lean build. Compared to Taylor, he was thinner and slightly shorter, but she had to admit—he was attractive. “It’s okay. I’m used to losing to Taylor. I just wish we had more talent in our college,” Maxwell said. “Oh, these are my friends—Mia, Frank, and Dawn,” Charlie introduced.

he knew maestro all too well to know he was going to die anyways. “ whats the point maestro” Charlie began “ If I tell you or not, I’ll still be dead anyways” “that’s true my friend . but how about this; if you tell me what I need to know, I promise to give you a quick death.” Maetro took a glance at his watch , in attempt to insinuate that he had no more time to tolerate charlie’s lack of co-operation. “ you have till the count of ten before It comes raining more fire on your skin Charlie. Here we go one , two , three , eight nine ten.” Just before he ended the illogical countdown, maestro spilled a little more fuel from the gasoline gallon unto Charlie's legs, just around the region of his

Friends made in heaven. "Ooh and who are these people who can bear you?" He looked amused at the idea of me having friends other than them. How pathetic! "Well, ever hear of Spencer Taylor, River Mancore, Justin McClain, Blake Sanders-" his jaw drops. " And Zac Reynold-" "Zac?" He shouted out. "I warned him to stay away. That bastard." He mumbled to himself but I was a sharp listener. "Why?" I was really confused to his reaction. Charlie is an audience guy. He loves to mingle with people. Does he have bad experience with Zac. Jake hated Blake. Now Charlie dislikes Zac. Charlie looks up to me.

“You’re right, I am going to Sin city but trust me I’ll be fine.” Jake struggled go hide his disappointment. He knew that she wanted to go to sin city because of that guy who had ghosted her. “Do you like him that much?” Charlie nodded shyly and said “Maybe a little, but mostly I just need closure then aging J might end up not running into him and have a fun. Night at the club.” for a second, Charlie felt like her plan to go looking for Mr. Black was dumb and stupid. She even getting was ready to abort mission.

Charlie trotted in, fur matted with blood, those brown eyes locking on to mine. He plopped down beside me, warm against my leg, and his voice crooned. “You’re a total train wreck, Beatrice, but you’re still the hottest hybrid in town.” “Shut it, Charlie,” I rasped, but my hand dropped to his head, fingers sinking into his fur. Eric’s voice filled me up still. “Disgrace! You are nothing!” And I muttered, “I’m nobody, Charlie. There’s nothing special about me. You’re just messing with me, calling me hot, because I’m not.”

Charlie dug into her huge Gucci bag searching for something until her bony, wrinkled hand came out with a pack of cigarettes. I watched the elevator’s numbered lights counting down. “There’s not really much to tell. I told Dorman I didn’t want the client he assigned to me. Perry Ward was a womanizing bastard and his company Runway Review victimized Anna Fiske.” The elevator door opened, and Charlie led the way with a cigarette between her fingers. “Just like Senator Peterson. So? What happened, Wil? Are you going soft?” Charlie had tried to mentor me from the start. It was only lately that I had doubts about my choice of careers. “I don’t know what you mean,” I lied.

He's grown up as a friend to me but an enemy to his parents. He was born autistic and his journey since has been rough. That was until we all met at a cafe and he recognised me. He was intently delightful go work as a p**n star. He just wanted a good base and an income to walk away from his household. And here he is as one of my favorite subordinates in my studio. And no, I have no company to work under. I worm solo and solo only. And so does he. Charlie is a different case all together. He is a child of prophecy. A gifted sexy bomb to serve all of the mankind and give them legit boners lasting for several hours. That was exaggerated, but it's nonetheless a good truth.

A shadow dropped from the rafters, landing with the grace of a cat, between Dante and us. “You okay, kid?” “Charlie?” My eyes beamed open. “In the flesh,” he laughed. He didn't look anything like the frail man at the hospital. He wasn't dressed as a janitor this time. He wore a bulletproof vest and had a shotgun in his hands. Even Jose was surprised. “Didn't I tell you, kid? The ghost always leaves a trail,” Charlie said without looking back. “I've been waiting years for this rat to come back.” “You're a dead man, Charlie,” Dante hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Both you and the girl,” he said.

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment. Perhaps you should try being a child for a while. There’s quite a bit of fun to have in it.” Charlie considered his words. He had a point. Why was he always consumed with concerns of the grown up world? He was only fourteen. Before much longer, he’d be off to study at a high school and then a university. Then, he’d be forced to pay attention to more important things. So what if Mary Margaret hadn’t written him back. Maybe she was too busy being a child. “Race you to the fence line!” Charlie yelled, and without giving Walter a chance to process the dare, he took off sprinting as fast as he could. A bit of spontaneity could actually be a good thing, he decide