Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon Jake Macklem (classic romance novels TXT) 📖

reached over half a mile above the river. The upper levels of the buildings pierced the clouds to see open sky. Corporations had their offices there, and the wealthy had their homes. From there, the rich and powerful ruled the city and watched those below.

Mid-level was their playground. The cafes, bars, shops, stores, nightclubs, theaters, restaurants, and every other form of entertainment. Only a few people lived there. They were the “middle” class, and though a small percentage of the population, they ran and worked at the businesses that kept the city alive. These levels had all the modern conveniences and were police patrolled, with strict enforcement—it was safe for the most part. At the mid-levels and above, the buildings were connected by footbridges and trolley tubes so residents never had to descend.

Ace had ridden the trolley straight downtown from the spaceport. When she exited at the level 20 station stop, the first thing she saw was the sign for Polymer Cords, a clothing store. She had not bought civilian clothes since before her time at Hart’s Academy for Young Women. Looking down at the uniform she was wearing and then back to the store, she cocked her head. I’ve been wearing uniforms since I was eight. A mischievous smile spread across her face and she wandered inside.

It took some time but she finally stood in front of the full-length mirror, wearing the outfit she had put together. She had chosen a cobalt blue long-sleeved tube top, a short yellow skirt over a green mesh maillot tank suit, and thigh-high stockings held in place by shiny forest-green garters and matching suspenders.

Ace studied herself and blushed. She felt pretty and glamorous, like the girls at the club when she was younger. It was just after noon when she exited the store with a confident swish in her hips. Smiling men and women made a point to say hello, and she saw many heads turn as she strutted by.

She paused before the lift. Across the hall, an old-fashion Japanese restaurant beckoned. Places to be. Continuing through the heavily populated suburbs on the lower levels of the city, memories washed over her in waves. She walked the same path she had taken to and from school, weaving through the back alleys as if she had never left. Things were different, but nothing had changed. She continued down lower still.

“McCade’s” stood on the ground level, its bright façade in stark contrast with the rest of the broken down and dilapidated storefronts on the block. Dealers, junkies, thugs, fences, and anyone else wanting “off the grid” called the ground level home. Most of the people in this part of the city were there by necessity, but for a few—for people like Mick—this last bit of untamed society was the closest thing to freedom they would ever get.

She had fought her pace, trying not to run as she got closer. Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. Stepping inside, Ace’s heart sank. Soft music played over the speakers to an empty room. All the chairs were upside down on the tables for cleaning. The stink of sweat and stale beer wafted through the air but the place was empty. Ace saw no People.

Walking toward the stage where she had played a thousand times, Ace felt funny. She was happy to be here, but it did not feel the same. Nothing had changed, but everything is different. She felt a tightness in her throat. This isn’t right.

“Mick!” she called out.

“We aren’t open yet.”

Spinning around, Ace saw Glitter. Her hair was up and she was wearing her grubbies for cleaning. She looks good—healthy, clean, and sober. Glitter set a bucket of soapy water and some rags on the bar. Ace tried to answer, but her voice did not work. Why is it so hard to breathe?

“Look, I don’t really need any new dancers, but… you are the hottest piece I’ve seen in a quick minute, so, if that’s why you’re…” Glitter trailed off.

She never was real bright.

“Ace? Is that you?” She asked

Ace nodded, unsure why the tears were building in her eyes. “Hi, Glitter.”

Glitter threw down her mop and rushed to Ace, squealing with excitement. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

As the two embraced, Ace felt a warm sensation flow throughout her body. She squeezed Glitter hard. “I missed… this place.”

Glitter stepped back and looked Ace up and down. “Damn, girl, you look good!”

Ace blushed. “Thanks. You do too.”

“Stop it. I look like trash. Haven’t done anything this morning.” Glitter laughed.

Ace looked around the club. “Is Mick around?”

The laughter stopped and the color drained from Glitter’s face. “Oh, Ace.”

At Glitter’s expression, a cold dread swept over Ace. Her stomach dissolved into a hot pit and threatened to melt her from the inside. “Where’s Mick? They let him out, right?”

Tears formed and streaked down Glitter’s cheek. “He’s dead, Ace.”

“What? No. NO! What do you mean he’s dead?” Ace stepped back. She realized she was shouting. He can’t be dead.

Glitter spoke softly: “About a week before he was getting out, there was a riot on the station. A small group of prisoners took over the facility. The powers that be vented the atmosphere, killing everyone on board. Sol Rights and Privileges is investigating, but there were no survivors.”

A week before he got out. I had just crashed on the Pirate Moon. All those times I saw Mick… Was it really him? Come to say goodbye? Ace realized her body was shaking.

Glitter reached out, but Ace pulled away and asked, “Was he buried?”

“Shonda made sure of it. He’s buried in Rose Cemetery.” Glitter tried again to touch Ace, but she spun away and stormed toward the door. “Ace, wait a second. Ace!”

Exiting the club, Ace kicked off her heels, scooped