CHAPTER ONE
"CITY ON THE EDGE"
Evening creeps in as the sun has long set behind the tall and obstructing buildings surrounding Angel as she walks pass the dive bars, strip clubs and other sleazy places of Capri Avenue.
Being an attractive blond woman in her twenties, Angel maintains a cool and calm demeanor as she continues her pace to the safe confines of her hotel room. Dressed in a tweed jacket with a scarf, tight blue jeans and mid-heel boots, Angel's clothes would be considered conservative compared to the hookers she would pass by, she still feels unease and defensive by the looks from the men that pass her by. Everyone knows it's not safe for a single girl in the city of Plutopolis to be out at night alone.
Finally, Angel makes it to the Hotel Carmen without incident. Angel walks across the wide and spacious lobby of the once-pristine five-star hotel and walks pass the front desk, hoping the man with the slicked-back black hair, thin mustache and a tacky floral shirt doesn't notice her.
"How was your walk, honey?" Roy at the front desk asks.
Angel stops and pauses for a few seconds.
"Uneventful." Angel replies in a flat tone.
"Where's a hot girl like you go anyway?" Roy pryingly asks.
Angel holds out a brown covered book from her purse and shows it to Roy. It's the Bible.
"Church." Angel answers.
Without any further word, Angel resumes her journey to the elevator next to the wide royal stairway. Feeling slightly burned by Angel's subtle dismissal, Roy centers his sight on Angel's beautifully bubble-shaped ass and mentally removes her jean and whatever panties she might be wearing to see in his mind's eye the blond woman's delicious derriere. Waiting for the elevator, Angel looks behind her and spots the leach at the front desk ogling her. A ding from the elevator is heard and the elevator doors slides open, Angel enters the elevator silently and without any facial expressions as the doors slides close. At least no facial expressions to be perceived as friendly to Roy.
"Bitch." Roy utters under his breath.
* * * *
In her hotel room, Angel locks the door to ensure her safety and privacy, she walks pass the door to the bathroom, places her bible on the faded wood drawers next to the TV and sits on the bed. After removing her jacket and boots, Angel goes to the bathroom to turn on the shower and begins to unbutton her sleeveless blouse then her c-cup bra. Completely topless, Angel turns to the mirror to examine the angel wings tattoo on her back and takes a moment to admire the quality work done on her.
With a towel, her blouse and bra in hand, Angel makes her way to the bed where she pulls off her jeans and white cotton panties, leaving her in her glorious nude. Angel then reaches into her purse to retrieve the bottle of shampoo she bought earlier but pulls out several photographs instead.
Angel couldn't help but look at the photo of her in a black one-piece swimsuit, smiling as she sits next to a handsome brown-haired man in his twenties, smiling as well, on a beach blanket on Lakeside Beach.
The next photo shows of her in her motel maid's uniform walking hand-in-hand down a dirt road with the handsome man from the previous photo in an unbuttoned light blue button shirt and faded jeans.
The photo after that is a candid shot of Angel, dressed in a simple blue sundress, and the handsome man in a red-black bowling shirt and blue jeans slow dancing at a Fourth of July party. Angel sees the hand of the man she was dancing with was somewhat a little lower pass her hip but not completely on her ass. At the time, she didn't mind, she planned to have sex with him later on after the party...like they did a few hours before the party.
Angel stops as she notices her finger lightly circling around the erect nipple of her perfectly round breast. Angel acknowledges her deep feelings arising inside her of her lover, the man who came to her rescue, who she trusted with her body not only for sex but for the angel wings he inked on her back.
Switching back to the photo of her and her lover on the beach, Angel's hand moves down from her nipple to the folds of her labia and immediately finds her clit. Angel closes her eyes as her fingers delicately tweaks and teases the pink pleasure bud. Angel opens her eyes and gazes at the photos, reminding her of her lover and the time they shared together, then throws the photo away, letting them fall to the carpet.
Angel falls back on the bed, continuing to pleasure herself. Her moans grow louder with every finger-strike on her pussy, not worrying if anyone in the next room or in the hallway outside will hear her. Angel's mind recalls every moment she had with her lover, when they first met at the Lakeside Motel, when they had sex on Lakeside Beach, when he inked the angel wings tattoo on her back, more sex, outings with friends from work, more sex, Fourth of July party, more sex, Angel remembers it all.
Including why she left.
Angel's moaning intensifies as she feels her climax nearing, her fingers go faster than before to quicken her inevitable gratification until finally her naked and sweaty body quivers as her orgasm overtakes her senses.
"Orpheus." Angel softly moans.
Catching her breath, Angel lies motionless on the bed as she falls in a post-orgasm daze, unaware of the steam originating from the bathroom.
* * * *
At the lobby of the Carmen, Roy can't help but notice a small group of men enter the lobby, walking to the front desk in a close formation, like a gang. Roy was no stranger to gangs being in the hotel, usually they would rent a few rooms for a party or a special event, a night or two of loud noises and some damages then they pay their bill and that would be the end of it until the next time.
But this particular gang does not have the street cred like the Steelheads or the Unholy Riders, in fact, they don't have any. Leading this gang, a man in a purple leather trench coat with a goatee and brown hair standing up due to mousse or hairspray and wearing white framed shades, next to him is a thick body framed bald man in a black leather trench coat. The others with them looked more like the kind of idiots and losers found outside a Slater Street nightclub that never get allowed in than criminals.
"Hiya, Moth." Roy greets the purple coat wearing man. "What brings you here?"
"I'm looking for a girl." Moth firmly answers.
"Last time I checked, there was no shortage of hookers in this city." Roy says. "Try the Night Garden bordello down the block?"
"Don't jerk me around, Roy." Moth asserts, holding out a small photo. "I'm looking for this girl."
Examining the photo, Roy sees what looks like a police mug shoot photo of Angel, one pic of her facing forward and the other pic of her facing to the side.
"Why come to me?" Roy questions.
"A source of mine told me she's staying in this hotel." Moth proudly boasts.
"You have a source?" Roy asks, nearly laughing. "Who is it? The broken fortune teller machine at the arcade or the homeless guy in the alley across the street?"
"Hey, I know she's here." Moth states. "What room is she in?"
"Why the fuck should I tell a bottom-feeder like you?" Roy questions.
"Bottom-feeder?" Moth pulls his shades off and looks intensely at Roy.
"You heard me." Roy replies. "You think you're some sort badass crook but anyone who's even heard of you knows you're a complete shithead. You're not even a blip on the police's radar. What did that blond cunt do to you, anyway? Turned you down for a date?"
Offended by Roy comments, Moth just smiles and slowly pulls aside his coat to show his gun, a Webley Mk IV, tucked in his dark red trousers, not being obscured by the black with red pinstripes button shirt.
"That supposed to scare me?" asks the not-intimidated Roy. "That gun is just as impressive as your clothes."
"Just fucking pay him already." Says the bald man at Moth's side.
"Shut the fuck up, Pin." Moth leans to his bald friend and whispers. "You're killing my game."
"What game?" Pin replies. "We've been looking for this broad for months and now that we're this close you want to risk fucking it up because your pride?"
Even though it would look like Moth doesn't command the respect he thinks he's entitled to by his street cred, which he really doesn't, Moth gives in and reaches for his wallet.
Moth puts a $20 dollar bill on the desk. Instead of giving a room number, Roy just taps twice on the twenty, implying more money than that. Moth then drops two more $20 dollar bills, still nothing. Guessing that Roy would cooperate at $100 dollars, Moth takes out another twenty followed by a ten, three fives and three singles.
As much as it would amuse Roy to see Moth scrounge for loose changes among his gang, Roy decides for one time only be generous to Moth and pawns the cash lain out for him.
"Room 313." Roy informs, handing Moth the room key.
Resuming his bad-ass bravado which only he seems to believe, Moth snatches the room key from Roy. "Let's go." Moth orders his crew.
Roy watches Moth proceed to the elevator and his so-called gang following like a pack of retarded lemmings. Whatever it is that finding the blond bitch in Room 313 will help them gain the notoriety and respect in the criminal underworld, Roy knows with absolute certain that a wannabe-criminal hotshot like Moth and his gang of petty criminals and losers will never accomplish that.
"Fucking idiots." Roy utters.
"Zippy, get the elevator." Moth orders the short, gawky, chinless man behind him.
Like a loyal dog, Zippy breaks from the Moth and his gang to make a dash to the elevator and pushes the up button more than one time.
"Here's the plan, guys." Moth stops to brief his gang. "Pin and I will go up to snatch the girl. The rest of you will watch the stairs in case she makes it passed us. And remember, no fuck-ups."
"So this girl is our ticket to the big time?" asks a creepy-looking man with long, oily hair, wearing a ratty and nearly worn-out sports coat.
"No, Zane. She's
my
ticket to the big time." Moth firmly states. "Anyone who helps me catch this girl and bring her to over to Lady J, gets on the train with me."
"What train?" asks a tall and confused man in a grey jogging suit, unaware it was a metaphor.