Chapter One
Even in the dead of night, the City of Angels never slept. The city glittered defiantly among a backdrop of black, blue, and purple haze where the stars absconded behind a legion of polluting smog. In the suburbs outside the city, a frigid draft blew through the open window and into Angelica Mason's bedroom as she tossed and turned in fitful sleep. The presence of wind raised goosebumps along her bare legs, and Angelica shivered while still sleeping. Buried deep in her subconscious, Angelica dreamed of the exhilaration teeming in her ribcage as she rested in the passenger's seat of a 2005 Devore GT and plunged into the darkness of the Los Angeles evening while escaping the cops after a party gone bust. The slick purr of the engine beneath her and the way the wind kissed her skin with such intensity that no man could replicate, Angelica found herself intoxicated on the sensation.
Her eyes firmly shut, Angelica floated in a murky state of consciousness that straddled the line between awake and asleep obscurely. The faint melancholy of the midnight zephyr rippled through her mind, and Angelica flitted between varying degrees of consciousness to where time slipped between her fingers like grains of sand, and she spiraled down into the unknown. Eventually, Angelica was ousted from her limbo and back into the waking world with her final remembrance vanishing off the tip of her tongue. Rubbing at her groggy eyes and blinking until her vision adjusted, Angelica stared contemplatively up at her speckled ceiling and faced an internal restlessness that refused to quiet or cease. She escaped from the embrace of her sheets and delicately glided across the hardwood floors of her bedroom until she reached the window sill. Leaning against the window pane, Angelica rested her head in her hands and astutely observed as the softest hints of dawn's break shyly intermixed with the dark cloak of the night sky above her.
The events of the night before remained on her mind. Angelica knew that she should refuse acknowledgment of its existence, but she couldn't let the thought of her night go. The first time she felt alive in such a long time brought her to the doorstep of trouble and only a mysterious boy she met only hours prior delivered her from said trouble.
…It's now or never, Angelica. Do you trust me?
Logan, enigmatic and confident…but Angelica knew there was something distinct about him. He was classically handsome but with an edge as Riya fawned while Darius gawked at his girlfriend's obvious pining. Where Logan came from and what he wanted with someone like her was a mystery to Angelica, one that she questioned if she should solve or leave unknown. She only met him the day before, and Angelica already knew that he spelled out trouble for a girl like her; a girl like her should stay away from a boy like him.
But forgetting about Logan, Angelica's mind lingered on the sensation of the wind whipping through her hair and across her skin with the force of recoil like a gun when the car soared above the ground. As much as she feared for her life at the moment, a strange sense of freedom washed over her while the car careened back onto the road. The sound of tires screeching cuttingly against the cracked asphalt of the freeway seared into her mind, and the smell of engine exhaust so potent Angelica swore she rested next to a running car rather than in her bedroom alone. Angelica violently shook her head, and the memory slunk back into her bustling mind with a hiss. There would be no more of that.
Angelica's phone buzzed from across the room, and she jogged over to her bedside, curiosity getting the better of her. She blinked at the brightness of the screen until her eyes adjusted and studied the flirtatious texts from an unknown number that could only be from Logan. Angelica's stomach dropped, and she turned off her phone without reading further into the texts. He wanted to see her again, tonight. Angelica's fingers flung her phone across the bed—putting distance between her and the thought of Logan. She glanced back out the open window to the slow bits of sunlight accumulating in the sky to form the brilliant dawn. Angelica knew her alarm would soon launch into a fit of shrill ringing to stir her from the comforts of her bed and she wasn't getting any more sleep with her mind racing, so she wriggled back into her Langston sweatshirt and exited her room. Angelica yawned as she moved across the upper floor of her house and headed down to the kitchen where she hoped her father would be, ready to make breakfast like he did every morning. She rubbed at her eyes and ran her fingers through her dark hair while she descended the stairs silently. Her head lost somewhere among the clouds; Angelica nearly collided with a young, tall stranger lounging in her kitchen. Not recognizing him and her father's line of work conjured up a frightening thought in her mind: intruder. That idea sobered her up instantly. Angelica quickly grabbed a frying pan from the overhanging rack and crouched as she slinked closer to him. If he was an intruder, he had no clue what was coming.
"Huh?" The young man seemed confused by Angelica's sudden appearance in the kitchen and swiftly ducked underneath the surprisingly fast swing of the frying pan Angelica leveled at him. Angelica scowled at him fiercely and leveled another powerful swing right for his face. The stranger caught Angelica's second swing with the pan and pinned her hands together above her head, somewhat pulling her closer to him. His eyes, a startling blue like the waters of the Santa Monica Bay glittering under the California sun, studied Angelica as she attempted to pull her hands free with some surprise, "Man, you really know how to swing that thing!"
"Start talking or I will scream. My dad is an LAPD officer, and he trained me in self-defense." Angelica demanded sternly while wriggling around, despite her lack of bargaining ability from the compromised position she found herself in. The stranger blinked at Angelica for a second before a crooked but damn charming smile broke out across his face. He released Angelica's hands from above her head, and Angelica scrambled back with the frying pan aggressively standing between her and the stranger, still smiling at her.
"Clearly he taught you well." The stranger remarked with a chuckle and held his hands up in the position of surrender. Angelica kept the frying pan between them and narrowed her eyes at him. Before Angelica could question what that meant or how he knew her father, a familiar voice cut in.
"I sure did." Her father remarked when he entered the kitchen and plucked the frying pan from Angelica's hand, causing her to gape. So, the stranger wasn't an intruder? Well, now Angelica was embarrassed. Her eyes caught the stranger's again, and his grin caused her to avert her eyes elsewhere. Angelica fiddled with the end of her hair and wrapped a strand around her finger, unsure of who the stranger was. Her father clapped Angelica on the shoulder, and she relaxed her tense stance, all the fight draining from her body. Angelica composed herself with a cough to clear her throat and adjusting her posture. Her father smiled at the stranger, "That's my daughter, Angelica. Angelica, this is Detective Shaw."
"Detective? I'm so sorry, Detective Shaw!" Angelica apologized, bowing her head at Detective Shaw. When she glanced up, she took in his features for the first time without worrying that she was in danger. Detective Shaw seemed quite young to be a detective compared to the other officers her father introduced her too, but Angelica didn't think too much of it at all. Sandy brown hair styled back suavely and a light bit of stubble along his jawline. A brown, tight-fitting leather jacket layered over a lavender button-down set him apart from the standard suits that most detectives wore religiously. His eyes met hers, and she could see the intrigued twinkle in the depth of their blue, intrigue directed at her. Jason's crooked smile returned from seeing the shift in Angelica, once fierce and enigmatic to more demure and mild-mannered. There was a dormant but surely awakening fire in Angelica; he could see it in her eyes when she lunged at him with the frying pan moments before.
"Water under the bridge, Angelica… I'm Jason, your dad's new partner." Detective Shaw introduced himself and held his hand out to Angelica, who eagerly shook it. She smiled at him with the same respectful smile she reserved for all of her dad's coworkers and other symbols of authority in her life. However, a discreet quirk of his lips into that crooked smile prompted the polite but ultimately fake smile to crumble away to a shy, soft grin from Angelica. Jason's grin widened at the sight and relinquished Angelica's hand from his handshake.
"He's on loan to me for that big assignment: the Mercy Park Crew. We've talked about them before. Nobody's been able to catch this gang of thieves, so they dumped it on me." Her father explained when he ducked into the kitchen and started grabbing the ingredients needed for Angelica's favorite breakfast.
"The Mercy Park Crew… isn't that the gang of car thieves you were telling me about who steal from the rich like Robin Hood-esque vigilantes?" Angelica questioned after she mulled over the familiarity of the name. She remembered when she first started asking her dad about driving lessons when she turned sixteen, and her father warned her about the dangers on the road. The newspaper that morning detailed a massive heist where a fleet of luxury cars was stolen from a wealthy tech tycoon and whispers were going around of the Mercy Park Crew claiming responsibility. The MPC was elusive, and law enforcement had yet to catch them after years, as Angelica knew due to her father's job.
"Yeah, that's the MPC. I'm impressed, Angelica… You are better versed on these guys than some of the cops your father and I work with." Jason complimented with an impressed lilt to his voice while he considered how Angelica made some of the seasoned cops he knew to look like amateurs next to her. Angelica smiled again and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, a habit of hers when she felt nervous or overwhelmed by the attention. She was used to two modes: fleeting attention from people praising her and, overwhelmingly, being overlooked and ignored like she was invisible. So, Jason paying attention to her for longer than thirty seconds maximum left Angelica in uncharted territory and hoping she could maintain her momentum of composure.
"That's my daughter for you." Her father chuckled, and Angelica hoped into one of the free stools in the kitchen while her father started working on breakfast for her. Jason accepted another seat closer to the opposite end of the kitchen's island and leaned on the tile counter with his elbow. Angelica's eyes flickered back to Jason's when his gaze rested elsewhere.
"I normally work with a specialized unit that tackles organized crime," Jason explained to Angelica, even when he wasn't looking at her, and that caused Angelica tilted her head to the side. She studied Jason with renewed interest, the first question circulating back into her mind. His position denoted expertise, but Angelica wondered just how much. Her father radiated wisdom from age and experience, but Angelica couldn't get a clear reading on Jason to discern. Angelica leaned closer to Jason, and she cleared her throat softly, but loud enough to catch his attention.
"Detective Shaw, I mean no offense by this… but you seem younger compared to the other detectives I've met." Angelica noted inquisitively, but Jason seemed far from offended by Angelica's question. Instead, he was flattered. Jason found himself intrigued by Angelica; she was much more perceptive than she let on and Jason couldn't help but wonder why. More than anything, Angelica's brief moment of fire followed by a dormant personality reminded him of when he was younger, a rookie cop new to the job.
"For the most part, I am. I joined the force when I was twenty-one, per department requirements, and took the detective's exam the mandatory minimum of three years into my service. From there, I'll let you speculate, but I am among the few detectives under thirty in the LAPD…" Jason remarked, leaning back in his chair. He could see the gears in Angelica's mind turning, and he couldn't help chuckling at the determined scrunch of her nose while she crunched the numbers in her mind. Jason gestured to her dad, whose back faced them still, and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially with Angelica. "I'm honored to be working with your old man here. He's a legend."
"They pay him a little extra to suck up to me." Her father jested with his typical grin while he cooked over the stove, occasionally glancing between Angelica and Jason when his attention wasn't on the eggs. Angelica shared a chuckle with Jason and her father, feeling like more of an adult than she did yesterday. Her father turned around with a huge omelet loaded onto her plate and presented it to Angelica with a flourish. "Your usual, Angelica."
"Thanks, Dad." Angelica accepted the plate of breakfast and twirled a fork between her fingers as she stabbed into the omelet. She savored the first bite with a gracious smile and nodded at her dad, letting him know that she thanked him. When Angelica went in for another bite, Jason spotted a flash of silver that chimed like soft bells resting on Angelica's wrist. He narrowed his eyes and recognized it as a bracelet after a second.
"It was great to meet you, Angelica. By the way, that bracelet of yours is real nice." Jason mentioned and gestured to the charm bracelet dangling loosely around Angelica's slender wrist. Angelica's cheeks flushed at the gift her father bought her—a reminder of her mother—and she traced her fingertips along the metal links between the charms nostalgically with memories of her mother flitting into her mind.
"Oh! Yeah, thanks. It was a birthday gift from Dad… Oh, and it was nice to meet you as well, Detective Shaw." Angelica reeled her statement back in after her off-track gushing to a proper reciprocation, but she truly meant that. There was something about Detective Jason Shaw that made Angelica feel seen for more than her accomplishments in academics or a passing introduction out of courtesy. Jason grinned as he slid out of the bar stool. Her father wiped his hands on a dish towel from nearby and turned to Angelica with her breakfast.
"Jason and I better get going to the office, Angelica. We are heading in early, and I won't be home until late, so leftovers will be in the fridge." Her father informed and rounded around the counter to give her a hug, which Angelica relished. She smiled when her father pulled away and shrugged on his coat and badge. Her eyes leaped past him and grasped onto Jason observing her with those blue eyes of his. She waved shyly to him, and Jason gave her a two-fingered salute. Angelica, with her breakfast in front of her, watched as Jason and her father headed outside to the standard issue police car resting in the driveway of her house. She waited until the sound of the familiar engine's roar faded into nothingness from the distance between them to tear her gaze from the window. Angelica glanced down at her food when she realized that she still wore a smile on her face and she shook her head. In the silence of an empty house, Angelica found her thoughts as her company.
She thought about Logan, asking to see her again. Angelica knew that getting involved in that scene might cause some issues and her father warned her about boys like Logan. What her father didn't warn her about though, was how addicting freedom could be when she eventually sampled a little taste of it. Angelica was hooked like an addict in desperate need of a fix. It was decided, Angelica thought. She would see him again, tonight.
With another couple of bites, Angelica pushed the plate away and decided that she was ready for school, and more importantly, the world. Angelica strode back up the stairs with purpose and the notion that her life would change, if she willed it to. She decided to see him, but not for Logan's sake. No, Angelica would be going out tonight because she wanted to.