There’s something she isn’t telling me. Things which don’t add up. But that’s what I do. Solve problems. Just haven’t got enough data to process yet. But give me time. I’ll learn her secrets.
Why I should be thinking I want to know what’s behind her unusual reactions, her lack of explanations, I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s the thrill of the chase? That she’s holding back only makes me want to get to the bottom of what she’s hiding. Or it could of course simply be that she’s a beautiful woman who’s got my cock throbbing. He’s a fussy organ. I could have pussy any time I want, but I refrain from using the sweet butts back at the club. Sex isn’t something I want handed to me on a plate. The woman herself has to interest me. It’s starting to appear that Mariana fits that bill nicely.
She’s turned to face the track leading to the road, as though calculating her chances. It’s pitch black now, the light from the stables behind only illuminating the first few yards. The way she’s biting her lip does nothing to calm my dick.
“Fuck it!” I walk over to her and take her hand. “Minutes, just minutes. Down this track then up the tourist road to Sabino Canyon. Minutes, darlin’. Then you’ll be safe at your car and can go on your way.”
Another nibble with her teeth, then she tilts her head and grimaces. “You must think I’m very ungrateful.”
“I think you’ve got problems you don’t want to share. But the least of those should be worries about ridin’ behind me. I’ve ridden a bike for fuck, I don’t know, thirteen, fourteen years? I’m safe, darlin’.” Or at least a safe rider.
Suddenly I see her shoulders draw back. I realise it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile when she turns, white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “I’m sorry. Thank you. Let’s do this then.” She strides to the bike.
I shoot my hand out, touching her arm, and hold her back. “I get on first. Not anything to do with manners, it just better balances the bike.” Moving past her, I reseat myself. She takes my offered hand, and awkward with the unfamiliarity of it, situates herself on the pillion. Grasping her fingers, I pull her arms tight around my waist, only just north of that growing appendage I can’t seem to bring under control. “Hold me tight.”
She grips me loosely, until I raise the stand and the bike moves off. The path is gravelly and rutted, so I have to take it slowly. The way she’s grabbing onto me now, you’d think I was going a hundred miles an hour.
I was right. It doesn’t take long until we reach where she’s parked her car, only a handful of other vehicles remaining in the parking lot. She gets off just as ungracefully as she got on. She needs more practice.
Taking her key out of her pocket, she unlocks the door, then turns. “Thank you, Tse. Thank you for all you’ve done today.”
I accept her thanks with a nod. In truth, facing up to a bear and rescuing a maiden in distress has put a spark into my day, as well as a longing in my loins. The latter not being helped as she shows me an outline of a perfect heart shaped ass when she gets into the driver’s seat. Then the door shuts, leaving me with the feeling I’m being excluded. I know nothing about her. Except her first name. An unexpected sense of loss takes me unawares. I’m not ready for this strange encounter to end.
As she fumbles to get her key in the ignition, I eye the car, realising fast what a piece of shit it is. When she starts the engine it neither purrs nor roars, but stutters in a slightly disturbing way, then stops. She starts it again, this time it draws away with a lurch. Wondering how far she’s got to go, and whether it will get her all the way, I decide to follow her, just to make sure she gets home safe.
I hold back, intuitively acknowledging that if she’s been so reticent about herself today, she’ll probably not want a stranger to know where she lives. It’s harder to keep back than I would have thought. She’s driving so carefully, keeping one or two miles an hour under the speed limit. Slowing down well before lights have a chance to change to red, proceeding so cautiously across junctions. I’ve seen some careful drivers in my day, but she takes the prize. Uh oh, she’s slowing down even more. Hold back, Mouse. Got too close there. Well, fuck. She doesn’t give a damn about her security, hasn’t looked in her mirror once, or perhaps she is just ignoring an anonymous motorcycle headlamp. I shoot past when she turns into a run-down trailer park. By itself, that’s not unusual, many people live in such places around here.
Making a U-turn, I head on back. It doesn’t take me long to spot her car. Hell, this is a shithole. I’ve seen trailer parks before, of course I have. But this is one of the very worst. Looks like something I’d more likely see on the Rez.
I draw up as she’s entering through a chain-link fence, climbing the two steps which take her into a small trailer. What drives me, I’m not sure, but I want to learn more about her. And, for a start, warn her about her car. Yeah, that gives me a valid excuse to be here.
She’s padlocked the fence behind her, but I have that piece of crap picked in seconds. Now I’m knocking on a flimsy wooden door.
There are two concerned voices behind it. A couple of minutes pass. I knock again. The door’s opened, and Mariana’s standing there. Her face has drained of all colour, her eyes are wide, her nostrils flaring. Her chest rises and falls as she inhales air rapidly into her lungs. She’s fucking terrified. I did that to her. The crime rates around here must be sky high.
“Hey.” I hold up my hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Resting her hand on the doorframe as though to hold herself up, she bows her head, looking like she’s making an effort to control her breathing. When she at last looks at me, her expression is a combination of scared and angry. “What are you doing here?” she hisses.
“Who is it, Ma?” a male voice asks.
Ma? Is she married? With kids? I start to back away, when I realise the voice had squeaked as though not completely broken. A teenager? How fucking old is she?
“No one,” she calls back, without taking her eyes off me. “Well, why are you here?”
I wave toward her car. “You’ve got a brake light out. Noticed it immediately. Thought you’d want to know.” She has. Normally I’d just ignore that shit, but it’s given me the perfect excuse.
What I didn’t expect was her reaction. Her hand covers her mouth and she looks like she’s going to be ill. Her words, though, they’re what really surprise me. “I can’t thank you enough. Oh my God.”
“Ma, what is it? Who’s there?”
Not a husband, thank fuck. I notice immediately as a head pokes around the door. Features similar to Mariana’s. She surely can’t be old enough to have a son that age. A younger brother, perhaps?
“Who are you?” the kid, taller than Mariana I notice as he comes to stand beside her, demands. “What do you want? We’ve got no money…”
While I’m admiring the way he’s standing up for her, she admonishes him. “Drew. This man helped me today.”
“Helped you?” I was right, his voice squeaks on the second word. “Helped you with what?” His dark eyes, so much like hers, view me with suspicion.
Wondering whether she’s going to tell him, one side of my mouth turns up. Her lips twitch too. “Drew, this is Tse,” she introduces me. “Tse, meet my pest of a brother, Drew. Tse rescued me from a bear.”
The kid’s eyes go wide in his face. Then he chuckles. “A bear? This I’ve got to hear.”
She looks at me, I look at her. I’ve delivered my message, there’s no reason for me to stay. There’s just something that makes me linger.
A pregnant pause, a sigh, then, “Look, you might as well come in. He’ll give me no peace until he hears the full story.”
A chance to get to know her. I won’t turn that down. I step inside the trailer. Fuck. I didn’t realise people outside the Rez lived like this. It’s clean, but the furniture is worn and well used. There’s nothing here worth stealing, only an ancient television and I doubt you could give that away. But I swallow my amazement, and take the seat that’s offered to me on
the only piece of furniture made for that purpose, a two-seater couch. I hadn’t realised how small this place was from the outside.
Drew, the Hispanic with the very Anglo name, stands with his arms folded. “So, the bear?” he prompts.
Her mouth quirks. “You know I did what I’ve wanted to do for ages? I went to the canyon today.” As she starts filling him in, she picks up the kettle and waves it toward me. Yeah, I could do with a coffee. I nod. She continues to speak, as she goes to the sink. In only a few short sentences she’s brought her brother up to date. He’s howling with laughter as she turns on the tap. Nothing comes out. Replacing the kettle on the stove, she leans forward over the counter, sighing.
“No water?” I ask unnecessarily.
“Third time this week.” Drew seems totally unfazed. A common occurrence it would seem.
Without looking at me, Mariana speaks. “I’ve only soft drinks, I’m afraid. No beer.”
“I don’t drink. A soda would be fine.”
Now she turns, with one eyebrow raised, and her face breaks into that beautiful smile again. “Seems I should stop making assumptions about bikers.”
I chuckle. Her statement doesn’t require a response.
“Noticed the leather,” Drew begins, sending a censorious look at his sister.
Mariana looks flustered. “Don’t you have homework to do? We’ll talk later, Drew.”
“I’ve got plenty of time for that.”
“Drew.” Mariana’s voice deepens.
“Ma,” he throws back.
I sit watching how the scene’s playing out. Data. No parents around—this place is too small to hold more than the two of them. Only one bedroom if I’m not mistaken. He calls her Ma, which could be a shortening of her name, or to reflect she’s got the parenting role, or both. How did that happen?
Not much money here. She must support the two of them. But how?
Placing her hands on her hips, Mariana swings around. “If you want that scholarship you’ve got to work for it. Go do your homework now.”
“Don’t like leaving you with him.”
“For goodness sake, Drew. You’re only in the bedroom.” She stares him down. With a shrug toward her, a warning glance my way, he takes himself off. Bet that kid will be listening to everything she says. My cock’s given up for the night. Won’t be coming out to play in this cramped place with no privacy.
Mariana gets two sodas out of the fridge and brings them across the few short steps to the couch. From her awkwardness as she views the empty seat beside me, I doubt she often has visitors. Just her and her brother. And now I’ve entered her domain. Shifting up so I’m pressed against the arm, I give her room.
She sits, but doesn’t lean back, making sure no part of her touches me. Propriety. I can respect that. Looking around as though seeing the surroundings through my eyes, she gives a self-deprecating smile. “It’s a hellhole, I know. But it’s all I can afford.”
I suspect, barely that. I raise and lower my shoulders. “Seen worse.”
“I doubt that.”
“Hey.” I half turn so I’m facing her. “Lived on the Rez a few years. Many hogans aren’t much better than this. Some worse. Don’t need to apologise to me for poverty.”
“I work.” She sounds indignant.
“Expected that.” I point to the closed bedroom door. “You responsible for him? No parents?”
Her voice breaks slightly, “It’s just us.” Her lips purse. “Now I’ve got to find some way to get to work in the morning.”
“It might have sounded rough, but your car got you home.” I’m planning to get Blade to look at her car and sort that dying engine out if it’s possible to extend its life.
“The brake light’s out.”
“Drive it to a shop and get it replaced. Hell, it’s only a bulb…”
“I can’t drive it anywhere.”
She’s the most careful, most law-abiding driver I’ve ever met. “If you’re headin’ to the nearest shop, cops will probably let you off. ’Specially a pretty thing like you.”
Clearly unconvinced, she looks like she’s going to cry. “If you hadn’t told me, Tse, I wouldn’t have known. I’d have driven, been pulled over…”
Data, Mouse, data. Why is she so worried about being stopped? Why does she drive so fucking carefully?
The answer hits me in a flash as my computer like brain joins the dots, ignoring the things that don’t fit, sifting through those that do. “You’re illegal.”
Chapter 4
Mariana
“You’re illegal.”
I knew I shouldn’t have let Tse into my home. Knew I should have shut the door in his face. If he hadn’t been so kind today, or looked so beautiful, making my lady parts tingle in ways they never had before, I probably wouldn’t have let him inside. Now he’s guessed my secret. For the life of me, I don’t know how he’s been clever enough to put it together.
Staring at the opposite wall, I want to know, realising I’d do myself no good to deny it. “What gave it away? How did you glean that from just a broken brake light?”
He grins. I don’t know how old he is, but when his face relaxes, it takes years off him. His eyes seem to twinkle. “I’ve a talent for sorting through facts. No, it was more than your brake light. Little things that might have passed other people by, like your reluctance to say much about yourself.” He moves a little closer, and his slim hand with long slender fingers reaches out and touches my chin, a gentle persuasion to get me to look him in the eyes. “Let’s get your mind eased on one thing. I’ll go get you a new bulb, fix it, then you can stop worryin’ about getting to work. But on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Is he going to ask for something I’m not prepared to give?
After a rapid shake, as though he’s guessed what I’m thinking, his head tilts to one side. “I’m curious. I’d like to know how a young woman like you ends up lookin’ after her brother. My price? Your story.”
If I tell him everything, he could turn me in to the authorities. I bite my lip. I’ve tried so hard to stay under the radar, been so careful. Done everything by the book. But nowadays, the book seems to have been tossed out of the window, and I’m the only one following it. He could stir up trouble…
“Stop what you’re thinkin’.” His voice is sharp. “I’m not going to turn you in, even if you’re not supposed to be here. I’m in a one-percenter club. We don’t agree with citizens’ laws.”
“But how do I know I can trust you?” I feel my cheeks start to glow. “And why the hell should I say anything just to satisfy your curiosity?” He goes to speak, I shut him down. “It’s dark, you haven’t seen the graffiti which I’m sure has appeared again today. Everyone hates illegals, they all hate me. Why should you be any different?”
“I’m Navajo,” he leans back on the seat, “well, half of me is. Believe me when I say I understand discrimination.”
I breathe in. “As a Native American you’ve got more reason than anybody to want people like me out of your country.”
“Doesn’t work that way.” He’s dismissive. Then he points down the trailer. “Drew get much shit at school?”
He doesn’t. There’s a reason for that. Standing, I go to the fridge, thankful that at least that’s working, then bring two more sodas back. I stay on my feet for a moment, undecided, before taking my place beside him again.
I pop the tab on my drink, then just hold it. “I’m from Colombia,” I start. “My first memory of my dad was good. It’s not clear, but I sense him loving his little girl. That was before he enlisted in the army.” I pause, even as young as I had been, I’d noticed the change. “Some of what I think I remember, I was told by Mom. The things he was asked to do. Government-sponsored wiping out of villages. They condoned, encouraged, soldiers to rape the women. I suppose it affected him mentally, but you could say he brought his work home. He became violent with my mother.”
I pause, risking a look at his face. His mouth is set,
and his dark eyes flare.
“Very violent. He’d grab her by the neck and try to strangle her. When he turned on me as well, she knew she had to get away. She knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far. She’d seen it with a friend of hers who’d left it too late. Her friend and her young children died. The cops did nothing. Like my dad, her husband was a member of the army, somehow protected. They were too good at what they did, had been trained extremely well by American forces.”
“So she ran. With you and Drew?”
“With me,” I confirm. “The last night before we ran, my father had broken my arm, then turned on her. He raped her. She didn’t know she was expecting until she got to America.”
“Drew was born here?” His face suggests he’s quickly sifted through the data again. “So he’s an American citizen.”
“He is,” I say proudly, then the corners of my mouth turn down. “But I’m not.”
“Your mom? What happened to her?”
I close my eyes, it’s still too raw and painful. Blinking back tears I explain, “She applied for asylum. The case dragged on and on. She’d managed to smuggle out some of her family’s jewellery. It was all sold to pay for a lawyer to progress a case that was surely cut and dried. If she went back to Colombia, my dad, who’d apparently risen in rank, would find out about it. He’d kill her for running.”
“He know about Drew?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
His hand covers mine. “Continue.”
“She lost her case.” Tears come to my eyes and I brush them away. “Even after ten years when we’d asked nothing from society. Both me and Drew were doing well at school, she was working three jobs to pay for us. They came and took her. Didn’t care that she had kids she was leaving behind.” Again, my hand wipes over my face, clearing away the tears that have escaped. “They took her while we were at school. Got home, she wasn’t here.”
Mouse Trapped Page 3