~oOo~
“When are you coming home, Nitro?”
“Soon, baby. I jus' got some business to take care of, then I'll be right back.”
Mouse coughed. Shit, she really did sound sick. “Okay.” The fact that she didn't argue confirmed it.
“I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” His brothers were getting ready to leave the truck stop.
“Okay.” Her voice sounded faint, as if she was struggling to stay awake. “Nitro?”
“Yeah?”
“What you said about you not putting the club above everything else... It was bullshit, wasn't it.”
“No, I... Hello...? Mouse? Fuck.” Nitro tucked his cell into the pocket of his cut, and swung his leg over his bike.
Bugs grinned as he mounted up. “Little lady giving you a hard time, huh?”
Nitro took the helmet from the handlebar. “Something like that.”
“Cheer up, bro. There's plenty of sweet young pussy in Seattle that'll take your mind off things.”
“Yeah.” He forced himself to smile. He didn't want some stupid, used up tart, he wanted Mouse. He wanted to go home.
Bugs and Samson knew what happened to Tiny, he was sure of it. They were going to let him blow the Rats' clubhouse sky high and risk another war rather than let the truth come out. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Samson had something to do with it. But Tiny had been his closest friend, and it just wasn't possible.
He'd been hearing whispers: Samson was a rat, he'd killed a partner, he'd betrayed his brothers. Nitro didn't believe any of it, but a lot of people did. There was something rotten at the core of Bay View, and he was convinced that Tiny's death had something to do with it. The big nomad had stayed behind in Cali, so asking him wasn't an option, although Nitro doubted that he'd get any answers if he did. He glanced over at Bugs as they pulled out onto the highway. Fuck it. When they got to Seattle, he was going to get the truth out of him. And if he wasn't satisfied, the club could go hang.
~oOo~
Mouse handed the phone back to Maggie and leaned back against the pillows. “Fuck him.”
“He didn't say when he was coming home?” Maggie sat on the edge of the bed.
Mouse shook her head. “No. He has business to attend to, apparently.”
“I'm sure he'll be home as soon as he can, lover.” Maggie smiled and patted her hand. “I think you're going to have to learn to accept that the club will always come first, no matter what he says.”
“No, I don't. I deserve better than that. He can have his club or he can have me, but he can't have both.” Mouse looked out of the bedroom window. “I might get up later, and take a walk. It looks nice out.”
“If you make him choose, you'll lose him. Are you really prepared for that to happen?”
She'd thought long and hard about this for the past few days. She loved Nitro. Being with him topped everything, but Mouse was always going to resent the club. And she knew that that resentment would grow and fester, that there would come a time when it would come between them. If he had been there, and she had voiced her fears, he would, as he always did, override them.
But he wasn't there.
She closed her eyes. “Yes.”
Maggie sighed. “Supposing he gave up the club for you. Would you quit spending half your life on protests and occupations for him?”
She'd thought long and hard about this, too. What she did was important, there could be no denying that, and she couldn't envisage a time when she didn't involve herself in at least some protests. But, for him, she could learn to choose her battles, and if he asked, she would be prepared to step back from the front line and let someone else save the world.
“Yes.” She opened her eyes and shook her head. “But it's all academic, because he'll never quit the club, so I guess we're done.”
“Mouse.” Maggie took her hand. “You've been sick—are still sick—and you're not really thinking straight right now. Wait for Nitro to get home. Talk to him. You say you love him. Well, people who love each other make compromises. They work through issues. What they don't do is quit as soon as the going gets tough.”
“Okay.” She was too tired to argue. “I'll talk to him when he gets home.”
“Good girl.” Maggie kissed mouse on her forehead. “Do you want me to send Digger up?”
“Only if he promises not to nag at me. And tell him to leave that stinking tobacco downstairs.”
24
“So there you have it.” Bugs leaned forward and picked up his gavel. “This never leaves this room, Nitro. I shouldn't have told you any of this, an' if Samson hadn't agreed, an' told me you could be trusted, you still wouldn't know.”
“Shit.” Nitro ran his fingers though his hair. “I knew something wasn't right about all this, but I guess if we don't let the Rats take the fall, Vince is gonna start looking elsewhere.”
Bugs nodded. “An' the first person he's gonna look at is Samson. We can't let that happen, an' we have to do what we can to protect Emma.” He laid the gavel down and ran a hand across the scarred wood of the table. “The twins are already onto Fox; they'll bring him back to Bay View, an' when they do, Samson will be in the clear.”
“And Vince? He's the one behind all this.”
“Vince's days are numbered, no matter what is decided. All I'm interested in is keeping Emma out of this. If the finger is pointed at her ol' man, she won’t hesitate in doing whatever it takes to protect him. She wanted to go to the cops and confess to keep him in the clear, an' she still would if we let her.” Bugs gave a tiny smile. “She's one fearless ol' lady.”
Nitro pushed his chair back. “I think I need a beer.” He needed more than that. Bugs' revelations had sent his head spinning. It had been Vince who had manipulated events in the hope of starting a war between the Freaks and the Serpiente—to what end, he still wasn't sure, but he guessed he just wanted the passage across the border free and clear—and it had been Samson who'd thwarted his efforts. He guessed that killing a partner of the club should always come with consequences, but he could understand why Samson had done what he had done, and it wasn't as though he’d had a choice. He, like Bugs, knew that the big nomad would never betray the club, and that Vince and Fox had set him up. And he knew that Tiny had probably felt the same. But Tiny would have never disobeyed an order, so when he'd been sent to bring Samson in, he hadn't hesitated.
And then Emma had gotten in the way.
Bugs hadn't been clear on what had actually happened that day, but it looked as though she'd pulled a gun on Tiny, and he'd made a grab for it. The rest was history. Little wonder the poor bitch had been so devastated. She'd killed her ol' man's best friend.
And now he was going to destroy the Rats' clubhouse to perpetuate the lie.
Bugs looked up. “You still goin' ahead with this?”
“Yeah.” For the first time since he'd been volunteered for this bullshit job, he was sure.
~oOo~
“Your chest is sounding better.” Maggie dropped the stethoscope into her bag. “And your temperature is normal. I think you're finally on the mend.”
Mouse tried, and almost succeeded in summoning a smile. “Great. Does this mean you're going to stop fussing now?” In truth, she didn't feel like she was getting better; she still felt nauseous much of the time, and was so bloody tired that she struggled to get out of bed in the morning.
“As long as you take care of yourself, I'll stop fussing.” Maggie frowned and looked at the uneaten toast on the bedside table. “You need to eat, Mouse.”
“I will.” Mouse leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “Did Nitro call?”
“Yes, he called this morning, and last night. And the day before yesterday. If you're so concerned, why don't you actually talk to him?”
She'd been asking herself the same question. “Because... Because we'll fight.”
“Only if you start bitching. He's worried about you.”
“Not worried enough to co
me home.” Mouse sighed. She'd tried, really she had. But whenever they'd spoken, he'd been evasive about his reasons for staying in the States. 'Business' was all he'd say, but that could mean anything, and what business took nearly two weeks?
She'd been back at Hope Farm for six days, and had spent much of that time either torturing herself over what he could be doing, or sleeping. Sleeping was definitely preferable to the hours spent imagining him in the arms of another woman, or getting into gunfights, or whatever it was her overactive imagination came up with next. Digger and Mags were both convinced that he wasn't cheating on her, and that he obviously had no choice but to stay. But Steve would open his laptop and show her stories about gang wars or rapes and then tell her that she would be better off without someone like Nitro in her life. Mouse could never equate the man she knew with the violent criminals in the articles that Steve showed her, but he was a Freak. Somehow she doubted that this business was rescuing puppies.
A wave of nausea swept over her and she swallowed hard; if Mags knew she'd been puking, she'd get on her case again. “Next time he calls, I'll talk to him.”
“Good girl.” Maggie frowned. “Are you okay? You're looking a bit green around the gills.”
“I'm fine. Just tired. I didn't sleep much last night.”
“Yeah, I heard you get up a couple of times.” Maggie's frown deepened. “When was your last period, Mouse?”
“It was... Oh shit.”
~oOo~
“So, you know what you have to do?” Nitro zipped up the prospect's one-piece bike suit and handed him the most garish helmet in the history of forever.
“I push the bike into the Rats' bike shop, and tell them that it won’t start.” The prospect frowned, what if...”
“They won’t get it started, trust me on that.” Nitro patted the Honda on the tank. “This little beauty is as dead as a dodo. Just tell 'em you'll call back in the morning for a prognosis, an' that money is no object.”
“But they...”
“They won’t find shit. It's ten minutes before they shut up shop. They won’t even look. The bike died, you can't find the problem, an' you'll pay silly money for them to get it running again. Just leave your helmet on. You'll be fine.” Nitro picked up his own hideous lid, “I'll be just over the road. Just get in, leave a bogus number an' get out.”
“Can't you...”
“There are cameras everywhere. They probably won’t survive, but we have to assume they will. All it takes is some smartass to realise that I ain't walking right, an' the game's up.”
“You walk okay.” The prospect was crapping his pants, and Nitro didn't blame him.
“Yeah, but someone who's observant enough will spot that I'm an amputee. Trust me, I know about this shit.” He patted the kid on his shoulder. “It'll be fine. They're just regular mechanics. All the patches are on their way to Sturgis.” He grinned. “As is every one of the Seattle patches.”
“Except me.”
“Yeah, little buddy. Except you. But you do this, an' next year you'll be doing the run with your top rocker.” He climbed onto his own crotch rocket. “What are you waiting for? Get over there.”
“Yes, boss.” The prospect put on his helmet and began to push his bike around the corner to the shop. “It won’t...”
“No, it's perfectly safe. That baby won’t blow till I want it to.”
~oOo~
“I can't be. Me and Nitro were always careful.” Mouse ran her fingers through her hair. “Apart from that time... Oh shit. What am I gonna do, Mags?”
“First we're going to get a test. You've been ill, it could be just that. If it's positive, you'll have to talk to Nitro and decide what the next step is.” Maggie took her hand. “Whatever the outcome, and whatever you decide, you know me and Digs will be there for you.”
She couldn't have a kid. She didn't know the first thing about parenting, and had never as much as changed a nappy. Hell, she didn't even like kids. What if she couldn't cope? What if she was like her mother? She couldn't have a kid, and then have social services snatch it away. She'd never forgive herself if it had the sort of childhood she'd had. “I can't have a kid, Mags.”
“We don't know for sure if you're pregnant. One thing at a time.”
“Don't say anything to Nitro.” Oh shit. What was she going to tell him? They'd not been together long enough to contemplate starting a family. They'd talked about a lot of stuff, but never this. “Or Digs. Shit, you can't tell anyone.”
“It isn't my news to share.” Maggie gave her hand a squeeze. “I'll pop into town later and pick up a test. The sooner you know, the sooner you can decide what it is you're going to do.”
“I can't keep it.” There, she'd said it.
Maggie couldn't quite hide the look of disappointment. “This will be your decision, Mouse. But it isn't something you have to decide straight away. If you decide that you can't, for whatever reason, have a baby, I'll fully support you. Just as I will if you choose to keep it.”
~oOo~
“You ready?” Nitro tightened the prospect's tie. “You need me to go over this again?”
“No.” The prospect shook his head. “I go in and ask for a private dance. Once I'm in the lounge, I put my jacket on the sofa and slide the envelope down the back.” He frowned. “Is this...”
“It'll work. I did a dry run the other day. Just be discreet. If it looks as though she's spotted you, just take the envelope back into the main bar and drop it somewhere where it won’t be found—behind a seat, under something, anywhere. It doesn't matter.”
“How come you're coming in this time?”
“Cus it's a crowded bar. No one will notice a couple of suits in there.”
“So you could have a private dance.”
Nitro rolled his eyes. “Sure, an' some little stripper ain't gonna notice a false leg when she's crawling all over me, or remember that I was in before. Don't you worry about me. I'll dispose of my little package, you take care of yours.” He grinned. “This is a piece of cake, an' you might even get to touch a titty.”
“I've touched plenty of tits.”
“Sure you have. Just remember, don't enjoy yourself too much, an as soon as you've stashed the package, get your ass out.” Nitro slung his arm around the prospect's shoulders. “This is the last one. I'll take care of the clubhouse.”
“Bugs said I was to help.”
“And you have. You did great in the shop, an' you'll do great in the strip joint. But I take care of the clubhouse on my own.”
~oOo~
Mouse stared at the pink lines. “I don't want a kid, Mags. I'm not ready.” She doubted she'd ever be ready.
When she'd been in the kids' home, she'd known plenty of girls who were desperate for a kid. It was all they’d talked about. All they'd wanted was someone to love and someone who would love them back. In their minds, once they'd had that baby and a home, everything would be okay. Every man they met would be the one who'd give them the family they craved. But almost every time, they ended up raising a kid alone in a grotty flat on an equally grotty sink estate with social services breathing down their necks, waiting for them to fuck up, just like their own mothers did.
Mouse wasn't like that. She was never going to put a kid through what she’d gone through.
She only had vague memories of living with her mother, and none of them were good. She remembered being alone in the house, being scared, and being hungry. She remembered people yelling, and the smell of alcohol, but she couldn't remember being hugged, or bedtime stories. She remembered living with her grandmother and with a succession of aunts and uncles, which wasn't a lot better, although at least with them she never went hungry.
Maybe if she'd been taken into care as a baby, it wouldn't have so bad. Maybe she would have been adopted and lived a normal life. But no one had wanted a six year old who wet the bed, and was already a compitent thief. So from that point on, she was bounced from short-term foster care to kids' homes and back again un
til she was sixteen.
She'd never had a home, and apart from working as a waitress when she was with the arsehole, had never had a job. How the hell was she supposed to raise a kid, when she could barely take care of herself?
She couldn't have this kid.
“Don't rush into anything, Mouse. Give yourself some time to let this sink in.” Maggie smiled. “Talk to Nitro.”
“This has nothing to do with him.”
“I'm afraid it does, lover.”
No it didn't. It was her body, and her fuck-up. It was up to her to put it right. “I'm going for a ride.”
~oOo~
Nitro led the prospect to a booth at the back of the empty dive bar and, once satisfied no one was around, pulled out a sheet of paper. “You sure you wanna do this? The shop an' strip club were easy, but this one is risky. I've been watching the place, an' I'm hoping it'll be empty, but people do crash there, so there's a chance it's not.”
The prospect nodded. “Bugs said I was to help.”
Nitro sighed. “What's your name?”
“Dan, but everyone calls me Snort.” Dan wrinkled his nose. “I think I'm stuck with that now.”
“Yup, probably.” Nitro grinned and flattened the plans out. “Right, Dan. This is what we've got: Assuming the layout is still the same, we have the bar room at the front, with a kitchen and toilet at the back. This,” he pointed to a third room, “I'm guessing is the chapel. It don't look as though there are any other rooms, so if anyone is crashing there, I'd say it's in the bar. The plan—such as it is—is to knock out the cameras at the back, and get in through the chapel window. If we're quiet, we should be in and out without anyone noticing.”
“Won't the church door be locked? Ours always is.”
“I guess, but I have a little recipe that'll take care of that.” Nitro grinned. “I'd like to blow their safe, but it'll make too much noise.”
“I might be able to get it open.” Dan's grin was wider than Nitro's. “I was gonna suggest that I picked the lock on the door as well, but if you want to burn it down, I'm cool with that.”
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