Welcome To Central City

by Adam C Mitchell

  Their bodies locked and rolled in erotic rapture, grinding and groaning against each others lustful needs. Kim cried out as he thrust into her, filling her. The sound was so raw, so animal like, he thought he’d injured her. He drew out of her. “Kim? I—” She groaned. Her legs tightened, drawing him back. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, drawing another ragged cry from her. The girl’s eyes fluttered close as she fell back on the bunk. Eddy gripped her peach like ass in a hand, squeezing at the firm mound of flesh. She moaned, writhing for a moment, and then bucked against him. She definitely wasn’t made of crystal. Because what Eddy had pulled out of her took force, and a passion that only comes from a dark need. No she wasn’t made of crystal, anything that delicate would have shattered. Instead, she cried out. Her hands found his arms, her nails raking over the muscles bunching on his arm. The leash around her waist tightened Eddy used it to hold her steady for him as he pounded into her and Kim’s back arched. Eddy ducked his head, no longer able to resist the sweet pucker of her lips as her face contorted with pleasure. He caught her lip between his teeth, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She responded seconds later, massaging his mouth with her. When his tongue slid between her teeth, she didn’t resist him. Her jaw opened, and he drank her down despite the muffled cries his thrusts drew from that pretty mouth. His insistence had moved them over the bunk Kim’s head was inches from the concrete wall behind them. Eddy brought his hand up, releasing the grip around her slip, and cupped the top of her head. Seconds later, concrete chafed his knuckles. Eddy slid both arms under Kim’s shoulders, hoisting her up against the wall on his next thrust. She made a breathless sound of protest, but then her arms were around his shoulders, her legs clamping like a vice around his lower back.

  Kim might not have shattered… but he was doing a good job at hammering through the concrete wall. She writhed and bucked under him like an animal snared in a trap, an animal that had caught scent of its predator and knew it was seconds away. Eddy found her mouth again, crushed his lips against hers. The feel of her clinging to him, the greediness of that scorching void he forced himself into, it drove any remaining sliver of reasonable thought from his mind. Their teeth clicked together. Pinned as she was against the wall, Kim couldn’t have escaped if she wanted to. But the soft mewls he drove from her now gave him every reason to believe escape was the last thing she wanted. Nails sank into his shoulders. Her kiss relented, hot breath filling his mouth.

  “Harder, Eddy.” He could feel the vibration of her words. “Please… harder.”

  So harder he drove. He cupped the back of her head, a flash of panic that she would crack her skull against the concrete, but then grabbed fistful of her auburn hair instead. Her breasts were flush against his chest now, the hard buds of her nipples sliding over his slick skin. She was sliding down perhaps because of the sweat from their bodies, perhaps because her muscles were weakening.

  Eddy shoved a hand under her, gripping her, keeping her at the right height. He kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, the curve of her throat as she moaned and tipped her head back as far as the wall allowed. His own groans became urgent and impatient. Eddy shuddered, trying to still every nerve in his body He didn’t want this to end. Didn’t want the feel of Kim’s naked skin against him to disappear, replaced by the chill damp of the gym. But Kim trembled under him like a newborn foal, her hands sliding up to the back of his neck. She brought their mouths together, forced her tongue between his lips. And, with a pump of her hips, she rode him. Eddy groaned, his brief control shattering like the crystal Kim claimed she wasn’t.

  He yanked back her head. Their eyes locked, Kim’s mouth parting in an ‘O’ but whether in pleasure or pain, he couldn’t tell. Did it matter?

  Even the most brutal pain could transform into pleasure when there was no longer control. No longer reservation. “Yes,” Kim breathed, her lips trembling. “Yes.”

  Eddy took one final show of power and force, pouring himself deep inside her. Kim cried out, her muscles tightening. In climax, or pleasure at his? Pleasure thrilled through his body as his muscles contracted. He buried himself another inch inside her, drawing a strangled gasp from Kim. Her lips brushed against his, but he nudged her head aside, his breath too hard and ragged to allow for kissing. He felt movement by his pelvis, drew far enough back to glance down. Blinking, his lips slid into a wide grin. Kim’s fingertips fluttered over her Venus. Kim inhaled sharply, her fingers stuttering for moment. Eddy groaned, cursing himself for not being able to hold of longer and join, Kim in euphoria. Because, when she did, Kim’s sex tightened around him like a fist, stealing the last of him into her as her thighs quivered around her waist and her breath buffeted against the side of his neck. She said something, but the word was too strangled, too breathy to make out.

  His legs began to ache. Eddy gave her a last, ferocious kiss, and slowly lowered her down to the bunk. he was reluctantly to pulled himself free from inside her. Kim’s eyes opened, her face slipping into a melancholy expression that drew her lips apart. She blinked slowly at him, and let her legs slide away from his waist. For a moment, they just lay on the bunk, Kim stirring faintly under him with every breath. Aware that he was probably crushing her, Eddy twisted to the side, swiping the edge of the blanket down Kim’s gash, drying her. Her eyes flickered at the touch, and she brought her lips to his for another kiss. As he watched this beauty pull her slip up, all he could do was think, she was incredible and before he could stop himself the words I Love You, escaped from his lips. Those words hit Kim, Eddy swore he could see a sparkle in her eyes that he’d never seen before. “I love you two Eddy” as her heartfelt reply, was that she tried to say before? He wondered. She‘ d had a rough couple of days. Shot at and kidnapped yet was still smiling. San Francisco was a long way away. Eddy hoped he had rid them now, of everyone who knew of the money. All Eddy knew was at this solitary moment in time, his life had never been more perfect.

  It started filling up early in the morning. The air was full of the sound of leather on leather, mixed with the smell of dreams, sweat, determination, and hard work. Eddy had to admit it was quite intoxicating. He was pleasantly surprised. The old gym held so many people; the storm of activity had one thing at its centre—Paddy.

  Eddy wondered if the Irishman had even left last night. If not he’d have seen a fair bit of flesh, and positions that Eddy thought may have even been illegal in some states or if not, only seen in flesh shows or the occasional men’s club. He was up and about at dawn, handing Eddy a new tracksuit so he would, at least, look the part for the day. Kim stayed out of the action, away from the sea of male ego and tide of testosterone. Yet in the small cramped back office, she could be heard hammering out Paddy’s accounts on an old typewriter, her broken, bandaged little fingers failing to slow her down, everyone in the gym knew she was in pain, but fought through the pain. She didn’t want to let anyone down. She didn’t mind. She loved talking to Paddy.

  It helped to take her mind off everything. She’d even stopped secretly crying for her lost love. She was becoming a new woman. A dame Eddy would do anything for.

  Paddy suggested Eddy do some light sparring. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but thought what the hell. His thigh felt a lot better. Eddy filled his time sparring and hitting the old sandbag. He found it an odd change when a few of the gyms resident cut-men commented that he was almost a natural. Almost was a start even if he couldn’t see it himself. If they could see it, all he had to do was believe it. Eventually after a day of solid sparring and an attempt at foot work drills, even Eddy had to admit he was getting there. It helped that Kim popped her head around the door on occasion with a loving smile and a peck on the cheek, making some of the other fighters jealous. It was a great comfort, pushing him to try harder.

  The evening of the show came and a large crowd filled the small hall where Paddy was staging the fights. The old gym had drawn quite a crowd, well two men punching hell out of each other tended to do that. Eddy noticed even a few high
brow types, mingling with the blue collars. That in itself was a shock, Eddy had only known the silver spoon crowd be up tight and arrogant towards people like him. Thinking themselves better because of money. He would make sure now he had money, he wouldn’t end up like that. It wouldn't change him. He thought as he watched the crowd a bit longer.

  The old hall lights went down. Paddy and the suited announcer entered the ring, with the announcer calling the crowd to order through a megaphone.

  “Ladies and gentleman, welcome. We are proud to present a light middleweight bout. The winner of the O Neal Cruiser Weight Belt will not only get the belt, but thanks to our friends from the Drummond family, the Central City champion will receive five hundred dollars in prize money. So, settle back and enjoy. Bets are being taken, so please see the beautiful broads at the ringside with your hard-earned green!” The announcer waved his hand towards the betting tables. The ringside eye candy drew the punters in from all corners of the old gym.

  “Now, let me introduce tonight’s first fight. It's the local combatants, the Southpaw Shotgun from North Castle, Jackie Queen, and Steve Drisco from Haverton. Straight after that, we have a debut match between Eddy Kovakx from Liberty City and the O’Neal club favourite, Brian Banner.” Eddy had been swept up in the gym’s addiction, mixed with what the other fighters were saying. When they joked about a debut match, Eddy jokingly agreed, thinking nothing more of it. Until later than day Paddy had told him, he’d overheard the conversation and had scheduled him in tonight. Eddy was more than nervous, he’d never fought, yes he’d gotten into scrapes when he had to, but this was different. They were going to really hurt him. But what could he do if Paddy kept his word and helped them, he had to also show willing, didn’t he? It was to late to back out now. Besides Kim was ringside praising her man, his own little cheerleader. Even if he knew how this was going to end.

  The show had begun and the excitement was at fever pitch. Eddy checked out the sea of people in the hall. Fishing for anything or anyone that might give him a clue. There might be a shooter lurking, or worse, a G-Man with a black-and-white outside, engine running. At last, the doors closed. The David and Goliath style fight got under way, experience over fresh meat. He didn’t expect it to last long. He was cannon fodder. But if anyone was looking for him this was good cover he guessed. The best place to hide was in plain sight, right under their noses.

  The time came and the first fight ended with a colossus K.O by the Southpaw Shotgun, securing a three-nothing win. The crowd settled in time for Eddy’s fight. He climbed the three small steps into the ring. A small stool was passed up and placed in a corner. No introduction. No applause, just Eddy’s racing heart for encouragement. Eddy sat looking at the cut-men as his hands were wrapped, and his gloves strapped in. The two pugilists squared up to each other, face-to-face. His opponent, despite being the same weight, looked a lot bigger. Eddy’s heart went to his throat. What had he gotten himself into, he had no chance!

  Ding-Ding ROUND ONE!!

  Eddy took a few tentative paces forward, raising his second-hand gloves for the battle. He tapped his opponent’s back as the referee took over. Then they stepped sideways, circling once, twice then, they began. Eddy’s mouth was dry as he circled the ring once more. His head just missing a glancing left hook from his opponent. The strong lights dazzled and blacked out the crowd, which didn’t help any, not with nerves that had overtaken him. Eddy let out a snapped right and then a left to the ribs, but it barley touched the other fighter. Eddy got off once solid hook, knocking his attacker back, if just for a moment. Then he took one back. He saw stars, the other boxer came forward throwing combination's of blows in every direction, half of which hit Eddy and hit him hard, Eddy couldn’t last much longer and everyone knew it, as he had to fight to see through the fog that had built up in his head, courtesy of an uppercut. Eddy just in time, was able to lift his fists up to guard his face, then walked forward.

  For about two minutes, both men stood toe to toe, going hell for leather both men landing an array of hooks and jabs. Eddy seemed or so he thought to gain his second wind. Breaking his opponent’s nose with a solid hook, and knocking him down if only for a second. Then, a left jab shot out at Eddy’s head, his fists were low judging wrongly for a body shot. The blow struck him square on the jaw. His head rocked back. It all went quiet, the ring everything. Then the next thing Eddy saw was the referee looking down at him, mouthing something, which he couldn’t make out. It was the ten count Eddy had been knocked out cold.

  Private eye Jack Malone slumped in his leather office chair. He put his feet up on the frequently disorganized desk, knocking a handful of beer bottles off. He tipped his battered hat off his eyes and opened his desk drawer, pulling out a well-used Seagram’s whiskey bottle and a small glass that had defiantly seen better days. He filled the glass to the top and scratched his unshaven face. He stretched his arms behind his head, and then picked up the malted drink, raising it to his weary lips. “Happy Birthday, Jack.” He knocked it back, poured another and repeated the action. It was better than cake.

  Times had been hard for Jack, and for Malone Investigations and Bail Bonds. His business was drying up. No new cases had walked into his office in over a month, not unless you counted the bungled kidnapping of Frank Crystal by a trio of disgruntled former spouses.

  Jack’s shabby, creased brown pinstriped suit and the cluttered, dusty office were a sign of the times. No work, no money, not even a dame on his arm, well not any more anyway, the lack of work saw to that. The ex-homicide detective walked over to a cracked mirror in the corner of the room. The forty-five-year-old Central resident looked back at him. He looked old, tired. Thanks to the stress of the City, his hair showed more grey than usual. He wished he was the man he had once been, not the husk of the P.I. he was now. He looked back at the bottle of Seagram’s. As he turned to go for a third glass, a small manilla envelope slid under his door. Jack hadn’t heard footsteps or noticed anyone approaching, although the frosted glass in his office door had seen better days. He put his glass down and went to retrieve the envelope. It was light, and it wasn’t cheap paper either, which meant money. The ink was good quality too, a deep blue. Cartridge pen if he had to guess.

  Inside was a note. Jack pulled it out then checked the envelope for anything else. He sat back down and placed the note in the middle of the desk. He looked long and hard at it, his well-trained eyes scanning every letter on the fold. He looked longingly at the note, at the whiskey bottle, and then slowly, painfully, back to the note, fighting the demons in his head as he did.

  The drink had cost him his job. His family, his wife, Peggy, and child, Chloe, both left for Coast City two years back. Last Jack heard, they’d boarded a ship to the land of the dragon, China. After two long years, he had a love-hate relationship with drink. He hated the bottle, but it loved him. He opened the desk drawer and slipped the bottle inside, that simple act took more effort than he thought. He took out his gun and placed it next to the note. Finally, he read it…

  JACK, I HAVE A LITTLE JOB FOR YOU,

  SOMETHING RIGHT UP YOUR ALLEY

  A MANHUNT , DEAD OR ALIVE,

  NO QUESTIONS ASKED.

  PAYMENT AS USUAL ON PROOF OF JOB DONE

  COME TO THE CLUB. WILL SPEAK MORE THEN

  He couldn’t afford to turn down any jobs in these post-war times. Heck, he had more than just the rent to find. A secretary didn’t come cheap.

  The note was signed Victor Renetti, a low life enforcer at the Lost Angel jazz club. Renetti was the fixer for his boss, Big Mike, who had owned the club. Big Mike had died recently, shot in the alley behind the club by two armed thugs and then dumped in the trash, by the club staff the police assumed. It was ironic, really. Mike turned the city over, treating everyone like dirt. It seemed fitting him being dumped on like that. Poetic justice, the P.I thought. Rumour was some money had disappeared. Jack knew through a pal at the D. A's office that the cops had no leads on the case, which wasn’t a surpri
se.

  Jack stared at the badly written words. Yes, the ink was posh, but his five-year-old could have done a better job.

  Jack tasted the whiskey in his mouth and a moment of repulsion and distaste crossed his mind. Can I do this? He shook away the thoughts. “Yes, I can,” he said out loud. He put on his jacket and fedora, grabbed his gun from the desk, his keys from the windowsill and headed for the door. He put on his coat and stepped out into the street, turning the collar against the onslaught of rain and headed across the road. It felt good to be working again. He lit a cigarette and inhaled the flavoured tobacco, then raised his hand to hail a cab.

  Eddy opened his eyes and looked up at the referee, who, as predicted, was counting him out. He must have taken a right cross, but could not remember it; stars blurred his view. Still, it was over now, and after limping off with his masculinity in tatters, the event moved on to the main fight of the evening. The crowds roared like lions. Eddy slipped away to the rear office to check on Kim. She was looking at some old black and white photos of Paddy in his younger days. “Are you alright, Kim?”