The blazing summer sun disappeared over the horizon and darkness settled in. Gabriel and Rochelle were wrapped in each others arms looking out over the city as the lights of LA lit up the night sky. The air was sticky. Cuban music spilled out of the house and poured on to the balcony. Sultry. Sexy. Passion consumed them both. There was nothing else. No one else. One flicker after the next the city lights came on. One breath after the next Gabriel and Rochelle became lost deeper within each other.
As Rochelle drifted off to sleep Gabriel quietly put on his suit, gently kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door.
Behind the wheel of a black Porshce, Gabriel drove through the Hollywood Hills in silence. In darkness. In thought. Alone with his breath and focused.
Gabriel was a man unique in his ability to experience pure and raw passion and at the same time function in a methodical and cold manner. It was something that he understood about himself completely and shared with no one.
Gabriel blew down Laurel Canyon past the traffic on Sunset and headed toward the beach. Cops passed by him. People going out for the night. People going home. Men looking for whores. Whores looking for men. The streets of LA were always busy. Alive. Swarming with sin and possibility. Gabriel was aware of everything around him and took note of nothing. He was simply moving through it. Focused on the road, on the night, on where he was going and why.
Gabriel killed the headlights as he pulled on to a quiet residential street in Santa Monica. He opened the glove box and activated a device scrambling all of the security cameras in the area as he made his way toward the entrance of a large estate. He entered a number on the entry key pad and the gate opened. Gabriel followed the long driveway and parked out front, quietly removing a Glock from the trunk and walking through the front door of the house.
Five minutes later Gabriel walked out of the house and got back in his car, pulling away just as focused and methodical as he’d arrived.
He drove down Venice Boulevard to the 10 East freeway and into Chinatown; passing by couples out for the night, people selling things on the streets, casual drug deals, cops on shift and the typical life of Chinatown at night. It was noisy and busy. The red lights of electric signs surrounding him crossed Gabriel’s face as he made one turn after the next.
Reaching the edge of Chinatown, Gabriel made his way into the maze of a warehouse district. He slowed down and finally came to a stop in a deserted alley behind a Porsche identical to the one he was driving. He stepped out of the car and placed the Glock back in the trunk then opened the trunk of the second car to a duffle back full of cash.
Gabriel got into the second car and pulled away, hitting a remote as he did. The first car exploded as Gabriel wound his way back through the warehouse maze and into the flashing red lights of Chinatown. He turned on the radio. Cuban music poured through the speakers. Sultry. Sexy. Gabriel relaxed back into the leather seat and made his way out of Chinatown, into to the city and up Crescent Heights; passing the traffic of Sunset he took Laurel Canyon back into the hills.
Gabriel followed the darkened, winding streets of the Hollywood Hills and pulled into a driveway, cutting the headlights as he approached the house. Quietly opening the front door Gabriel stepped inside. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked up the stairs.
Gabriel took off his clothes and climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around the love of his life, his passion, Rochelle.
LA Nights by A.W. Gryphon© 3 April 2011