“Nothing.” She blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. “It's just... I've never...” She sniffed. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
“You had a good time, though?”
He loved her smile, it was his favourite thing about her—apart from her tits, maybe. Mouse pressed her lips against his. “Yeah, it was great.”
“You had a shitty day, didn't you.”
“The chips were nice. And I enjoyed the sex.” She tugged on his belt. “Wanna go back to the hotel?”
“Yeah.” He stood and held out his hand. “But there's one last thing we have to do.”
“Nitro....”
“Trust me.” He pulled her to her feet and kissed her eyebrow. “This is the best part of a vacation.”
“You're not gonna take no for an answer are you.”
“Not something I do, Mouse.” With her hand in his, he led her down the ramp to the beach, and headed towards the pier.
~oOo~
“You want to make out?”
“Yep.”
“We have a room with a four-poster, and you want to make out under the pier?” She wasn't sure why she was even bothering to question him. They were going to make out, because Nitro had decreed it. She sighed. “I suppose I should be grateful that you're not a crazed psychopath who kills girls under piers.”
“Is that a thing?” He took a step closer.
“Almost definitely. It's not the best place to make out, though. It stinks and everything is slimy.”
“Gotta make out under the pier, Mouse. It's traditional.”
Mouse looked around at the, now, nearly deserted beach. “Pretty sure it isn't.”
He sighed. “When I was fourteen, I stayed in England with my mom an' my sister for the summer. We went on a beach vacation on the east coast, an' while I was there I met a girl. We hung out on the beach all day, an' in the evening we went for a walk an' made out under the pier.” He smiled. “It was the best vacation I'd ever had. I was back home with my mom, I'd met a girl who thought I was cool, an' I got to feel my first pair of tits. I was sure I was in love.” He touched her cheek. “I've thought I was in love a whole bunch of times since then. But I was wrong.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Dunno what it was, but it wasn't what I'm feeling now. I want you to be the last girl I make out with under the pier.”
Nitro was right. Making out under the pier was the best part of a day at the seaside.
~oOo~
He'd made her happy! Shit, Nitro felt about ten miles high.
Walking on sand was one of his least favourite things, but as he walked along the almost deserted beach with his girl's hand in his, he couldn't have been happier. It was only a short walk back to his bike, and the evening sun was still giving out the last of its warmth. The only other people on the beach—a bunch of teenagers—were packing up their stuff in readiness to leave. Soon they'd have it all to themselves. Maybe they could...
Mouse stiffened and stopped walking. “Hey!” She let go of his hand and marched towards the kids. “Hey! You gonna pick up your crap?”
They turned and the biggest—a kid of about eighteen—laughed. “Nah.”
“Pick it up, you selfish piece of shit.”
Fuck. “Mouse...” Nitro caught her up and reached for her shoulder.
“Shut up, Nitro.” She brushed him aside. “Hey, shit-for-brains, don't fucking walk away from me. Pick it up.”
Nitro made a quick assessment of the situation: Discarded bottles and cans of cider and lager, nine drunken youths—four girls and five boys—against him and an angry little punk. Fuck. “Mouse.”
She ignored him and advanced at the sneering bunch of kids. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Don't you care about anything?”
“Mouse.” He grabbed her arm. “Chill, okay.”
“No I won’t.” She yanked her arm free, picked up a can and hurled it at the group, hitting one of the girls on the shoulder. “Pick up your crap.”
Nitro put himself between Mouse and the, now angry, youths. “How 'bout you just do as she says, guys? It's kinda selfish to leave shit all over the beach. You really want a kid hurting itself on broken glass?”
“You gonna make me?” Buoyed by his buddies and alcohol, the biggest kid took a step towards him. “You gonna take us all on?”
“Nope.” Nitro grinned. “I will kick the shit outta you, though.”
“Yeah, right. One fucking old man against all of us.”
Old man? He unclipped his wallet from his chain and handed it to a nervous looking Mouse, then wrapped the chain around his knuckles. “I got no doubt that all of you can take me down. But trust me sonny, you're coming with me.”
“Nitro.”
“Shut up, Mouse.” He grinned and pulled his tee shirt over his head—he wasn't sure whether the kids would recognise the viper on his chest, but it was worth a shot—and held it out to her before turning back to the wannabe. “I'm not a violent man. But if you don't pick up your crap and fuck off, I am going to hurt you.” A couple of the kids behind him were looking nervous, Nitro felt his grin get wider. “Probably a couple of your little buddies, too.”
“You trying to scare me?” Head Kid was looking a little less sure of himself.
“Nope. Me an' my ol' lady jus' wanna have a nice quiet walk. We don't wanna look at your shit, an' I for one don't wanna have to spend the night in a cell. Would appreciate it if you just did as you were asked so we can all just carry on with our lives.”
One of the smaller kids bent and picked up the can that Mouse had thrown. “I'll pick it up.” His eyes never left Nitro's chest. “We're sorry.”
“Leave it there.” Head kid lifted his chin. “Some fuckin' old hippie ain't gonna tell us what to do.”
Hippie?
Head Kid reached into his back pocket, pulled out a switchblade and waved it around in the time-honoured way of someone who was shitting their pants. “Fuck off, old man.”
Nitro sighed. “Pretty dumb move, kid. If you pull a blade on a man, you'd better be prepared to use it.” He chuckled, and Head Kid's posse stepped back a little. “There are three ways this could go: You can wave your ittybitty knife around until I take it off you—kinda don't wanna have to hurt you, an' I've paid a lot of money for a hotel room, would rather sleep in that than a police cell—you could actually use it,” Nitro ran his hand across his chest. “But I'm a Freak, an' bad things happen to people who hurt Freaks. Would be a shame if you an' your little play buddies got hurt. Or you could put the knife away, swallow your pride, an' pick up your shit. I highly recommend you take the last option.”
“You think I'm scared of a bunch of sad old twats on motorbikes?” Head Kid thrust the blade towards Nitro's chest.
Nitro grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm. “Wrong move. Drop the knife.”
“Arrrggh! You're breaking my arm.”
“No, I'm not. If I was breaking your arm...” Nitro twisted the skinny arm a little further round. “It would hurt way more than this.” With his free hand he took the knife from the kid's unresisting fingers and pressed the tip of the blade into his cheek, just hard enough to break the skin. “Tell your friends to pick that shit up, or you're gonna have a scar that The Joker would be proud of.”
~oOo~
Nitro was pissed.
Really fucking, scary pissed.
They were no longer walking hand in hand along the beach; now Mouse was trotting behind him as he stormed along the promenade towards the car park. Mouse risked a glance behind her at the now considerably cleaner beach. “Nitro.”
He ignored her and shifted up a gear.
“For fuck's sake, Nitro. Say something.”
He stopped walking and whirled on her. “What the fuck were you thinking? I coulda killed that kid. Jesus, Mouse. You can't just go steaming in like that.”
“But they were...”
“I don't give a shit what they were doing. They coulda been mur
dering a kitten for all I care. You do not confront gangs of youths. Ever.” He grabbed her jacket and shook her. “Do You Understand?”
“But...”
“That kid had a knife. You coulda been killed.” He let her go and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Swear to me, you will never do anything like that again.”
Mouse stared at the ground. “I can't.”
“Then I guess we're done.” He took his wallet from his pocket and took out a twenty-pound note. “For the train home. See you around, Mouse.”
She stared at the note in his hand and tired to summon up anger—anything—to push away the pain in her chest. Her vision blurred. “I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” His voice was gruff, Mouse raised her eyes and he smiled. “I love you, Mouse. But I can't take care of you if you keep doing stupid shit like that, an' I can't be with you if I'm gonna be bent outta shape worrying about your ass all the time. What if I hadn't been there?”
“They were going to leave that shit on the beach. There were plastic bags and everything. It would've been washed out to sea. Turtles...”
“You're more important than a fucking turtle. You coulda been killed, Mouse. Don't you get it?”
“I'm not more important than anything.” She needed to touch him, to feel his arms around her. “And I don't want you to look after me.”
“This ain't about what you want. It's about what I need to do. I can't sit by while you go to war with the whole goddamned world.” He took her hand and pressed the note into her palm. “I thought it wouldn't be a problem, but it is. A really big problem. I can't do it, Mouse. I'm sorry.”
There was a mark on his tee shirt; Mouse reached out and touched it. Nitro hissed as her fingers made contact with his chest. She pulled her hand away and stared at the blood on her fingertips. “You're bleeding.”
“Just a nick, ain't nothing.”
“Shit, Nitro, you could've been...”
“I'd die for you in a heartbeat.” He pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her. “But I can't always be around to put myself in the line of fire. An' I don't wanna get killed over some fucking trash. You gotta learn to choose your battles.”
“I can't.”
“Figured that's what you'd say.” He kissed her again. “See you around.”
Mouse didn't know what to say. She'd tried so hard not to cave, to resist him, but he'd never once relented in his pursuit of her. And now he had her, he was dropping her like a hot brick because she was acting how she always did. Sure, facing up to those kids was stupid and reckless—she knew that—but someone had to, and if she got hurt in the process, so be it. She didn't think she could change if she wanted to. She was what she was, and she'd thought Nitro understood that.
But...
She looked up, and almost took a step back from the pain and anger in his eyes. “Do you never take risks, Nitro? This life you lead, the stuff you do,” she snorted. “You said yourself, you'd lay down your life for your brothers. You gonna give all that up for me, eh? Y'know, cos I'll be worried when you're doing whatever the fuck it is you do. I was never going to embrace the world you live in, or your ethos, but I was prepared to accept it. I thought you'd do the same for me.”
“That's different.”
“No it isn't.”
“You went in there with all guns blazing, Mouse.” Nitro gingerly touched his chest.
“So did you.”
“No I didn't.” He held his arms out. “I assessed the risk, I chose my target and I defused the situation. I saved your stupid fucking ass. I can't... Fuck... You could've been killed, Mouse. If I...” His face contorted. “You quit this shit, or we're done.”
16
Nitro was pretty sure that there'd come a day when he didn't wake and immediately want to drink himself unconscious again. Any time soon, he'd not regret his decision to walk away from Mouse; it had been over a week, after all. He opened his eyes and winced as the shaft of sunlight under the blind seared his retinas.
Today wasn't that day.
No matter how many times he told himself that he couldn't tie himself to a girl whom he couldn't takes his eyes off for fear that she'd get herself killed, the man in the mirror looked like someone who was regretting that decision. But, fuck, he'd been so scared. She could have been killed. She'd known it was stupid, but she hadn't cared. And he knew she'd do shit like that, time and time again. Better to walk away, than to build a life together, only to have to torn apart because he couldn't keep her safe. Sure, it was a chicken shit thing to do, but Mouse had been right, it could never work, and why put off the inevitable?
He'd walked away to save himself from a lifetime of pain. It just didn't seem to be working so well.
The doorbell buzzed—maybe it had been that that had woken him—and Nitro rolled over to the window and pushed it open. “Yeah?” Biff looked up, and Nitro dropped the keys into his outstretched hand. “Come on up.”
“Woman trouble?” Biff nodded to the empty bottles and take-out cartons. “Even for you, brother, that was quick.”
Nitro shrugged and buttoned his fly; he had no desire to talk about Mouse to anyone. “What's up?”
“Denny wants us at the club at twelve, but I wanted to talk to you first. He got a call from Bay View. Tiny has been killed. I dunno if you were close, but I thought you'd rather hear it from me than in church.”
“Shit.” Nitro opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk. “How?”
“Apparently the pigs are saying it was a robbery. Vince didn't say much, but it isn't being treated as a club thing.”
Nitro took a swig of the milk. “If Tiny Taylor was murdered, it was club related.”
“Vince would like the chapter to be represented at the funeral.”
Nitro nodded. “I'll go.”
The big SAA cleared a space on the sofa. “You were close?”
Nitro shook his head. “Tiny always kept himself to himself. We both patched into the chapter at around the same time, but I probably didn't speak to him more than a handful of times. He was a good guy, though.”
“You don't talk about Bay View much.”
“To be honest, bro, I never felt settled there. It's a small town, an' the patches are tight. Maybe if I'd stayed longer, I'd've found my place.” He shrugged. “I dunno, after Vegas, it felt kinda small and cliquey. If my ex hadn't gotten a new job in Bakersfield I'd never had considered moving there in the first place.”
There had been talks in church about the unrest between the clubs in California and Nevada. It may have been on the other side of the world, but clubs were international, and there was always a danger of things spreading. It seemed, though, that things had calmed down; it certainly hadn't spread, and allegiances had held firm. When he'd left, things had still been peaceful, but there had been an undercurrent running through the place, and Vince's ambitions for expansion were an open secret. Nitro couldn't pretend he relished the thought of going back, but he was the only one out of his English brothers who knew Tiny. It should be him who went.
“When's the funeral?”
Biff shrugged. “Not for a couple of weeks at least. Tiny was murdered in Tacoma, and the body hasn't been released yet.”
“What the fuck was he doing in Tacoma? That's Rat territory. Those fuckers have got the area sewn up pretty tight.”
“He was heading for Seattle, but if Vince knows why, he's not saying.”
“Could've been a social call. Him and Samson were always close.”
Biff pulled a packet of smokes from his pocket and passed one to Nitro. “Might be an idea to keep your mouth closed an' your ears open. Something stinks here. We're going to be getting into bed with some new players, an' I'm not convinced the shit storm in Cali is over. If what happens there spreads to Europe, we could find ourselves batting for the wrong team.” His eyes narrowed. “What is your take on all of this? You never have much to say, an' Carter is convinced you never look further than the next cunt. I'm not so sure, t
hough. Seems to me, you were a little too keen to jump ship. What's going on there? An' why didn't you go back to Vegas?”
It was too early for this. And he was too hung over. Nitro ran his hand across his forehead, “truthfully? I dunno. Bay View is a good chapter, I guess. But...” He shook his head. “I didn't like some of the things that were brought to the table.”
“An' Vegas?”
Nitro grinned. “Fucking loved Vegas, man. Best clubhouse in the world. Best pu...”
“I know, I've heard it all before. So if the pussy was so good, why not go back there? From what I've heard, you were well liked.”
“It would be the first place my crazy ex would look.”
“Is she going to be a problem if you go back?” Biff was watching him too closely.
He shook his head. “Shouldn't think so. She's moved on to pastures new.”
“So you could go back now?”
What was this? The chapter was well aware of the situation when he'd arrived, and it had been Biff who'd pushed him to make the move permanent. Nitro straightened up. “Is there a problem with me being here?”
“Not at all.” Biff stood and, immediately, the room got smaller. “Get yourself cleaned up, and be at the clubhouse at twelve. Don't be late.”
~oOo~
Mouse wasn't a drinker. She'd have the odd glass of beer or cider, but couldn't ever remember being drunk. No matter how tough life got, she'd never reached for the bottle, but for the past week, she'd been sorely tempted.
Instead of heading back to Bath, she'd hitchhiked to St Ives. Mouse had friends who lived there, and had earned good money busking there in the past. She'd reasoned that after a few days, hanging out with the surfers and beach bums that frequented the town, she'd stop hurting and be ready to live in the real world again. Nitro was right, they could never have made it work. She'd be fine any day now.
Not today, though.
“Mouse?”
She opened her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the narrow bed. “Come in.”
Itinerant Child Page 13