He’s right. I gaze down at my hands solidly planted on the desk. “Need to take off again, Prez.”
“Sort of gathered that.” Now Drummer kicks out a chair and sits down. His hardened gaze burns into me until I look up and meet his eyes. “Brother. What you do,” he waves his hands at the monitors, “couldn’t ask you to do more. We need something? You pull out all the stops to find it for us. We need you to fight beside your brothers? You do it. You give your fuckin’ all to this club.”
Embarrassed, I resume looking at my hands again.
“You got a problem?” he continues. “Don’t like being shut out. Ain’t nothing you can’t bring to the table. You’ve given a lot. Time you spend in here? You work as hard, if not harder than any of the other assholes hanging around. You need something? We’ll be right behind you.”
“Prez,” I start, wondering why there’s a pricking at the back of my eyes. “It’s not that I want to keep you out, it’s more that I don’t know what the fuck needs doing.”
He raises his chin. “When you figure it out, come to me, okay? Every man who sits around that table will be there at your back.” Shaking his head, he sighs. “Club’s more than one person, Mouse. Ever thought we could help figure out what needs to be done? Don’t shut us out, Brother.”
Gradually I begin to nod. Perhaps it will soon be time to come clean. “Let me go now, do what I need to, okay? I’ll be at the end of the phone.” Or when I can pick up messages at least. “When I return, when I know more. Then we’ll sit down.”
He purses his lips, his brow furrows, then he shakes his head. “One last time, Mouse. Then you will tell me what’s got you twisted in knots. This time I know it’s got fuck all to do with you needing to go off on a vision quest or such.”
“One last time,” I agree.
He stands, leaning on the back of the chair to push it tidily back against the desk, then turns and opens the door. Before he leaves, he mumbles something under his breath. Something I manage to make out. “There’s a fuckin’ woman at the bottom of this, sure as fuck of that.”
I stare hard at his back. Not saying a word. But he’s got it in one. I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out he’s speaking about the woman I claimed as my fiancée.
I take a moment to finish my joint while thinking over what Drummer said. Some of my research showed me my brothers could prove useful. But I’d have to ask them to do something way outside of their comfort zone. It’s something to think on, though. For when I return.
Closing down the systems I don’t need to keep running, I switch off the monitors, then walk out through the clubhouse. Apart from Diva, one of the sweet butts cleaning down the bar, the room is empty. No chance for goodbyes. No questions to answer. How I like it.
I can’t take a club truck without knowing how long I’ll be gone. So I stuff what I can into my saddle bags, then get on my bike. With one last lingering look over my shoulder, I start the long ride back to the Rez.
Chapter 16
Mouse
I’m anxious to get back to the place I used to call home. Anxious to see Drew, a need to talk to someone about Mariana, someone who shares my fears and knows what I’m going through. It’s not fair to place all that on a fifteen-year-old’s shoulders, but the thought of just being with her kin, sharing his burden, shines like a beacon to me.
When I stop for gas I check my phone, no one’s called to tell me Drew’s lying dead or dying from falling off a horse, so at least I’m expecting to find him alive. Unlike Billy who won’t have much longer to live if he’s endangered him in any way.
It’s into the evening by the time I arrive and pull up outside the hogan. Unusually, the sound of my engine doesn’t draw anyone out. But as I shut it down with a sense of uneasiness and pocket the key, I don’t have to look hard to find the reason why. Loud shouts of laughter are ringing out from inside. My gramma, my mom, Drew’s voice, and a couple of my uncles too.
I grin, the kid’s alive. In good spirits too by the sounds of it. I was going to have a chat with him tonight, guess if he’s having fun, I’ll leave it until the morning.
First person I see on entering is that fucker Billy. I pause to clout him around the back of his head.
He turns fast, his hand rubbing his skull, his eyes blazing. “What the fuck?”
“You take my boy riding?” I growl.
“Yeah. He’s a natural.” Billy’s shaking his head as though trying to shrug off the pain. I barely touched him. He’s putting it all on.
“A natural? What fuckin’ unbroken beast did you put him on to prove that?”
Billy smirks. “Actually, the same paint horse as I put you on.” As my eyes widen, he continues. “Gelded now of course. Tame as a fuckin’ lamb. I looked after the kid for you.”
Hmm. Sounds like he might have done just that. That mustang must be twenty years old now, must have calmed over the years.
“Tse!” Drew’s on his feet. Well, fuck me, he looks pleased to see me. He’ll probably think I’ve got news of Mariana. “I got an A in computer science.” I’m pleased as fuck at his grade, and also that’s what he was bursting to tell me.
Mom gets me a plate of stew, and as I sit cross-legged on the floor to eat it, I know coming here was the right thing to do. If I can’t be watching out for Mariana, having eyes on her brother will have to suffice. Both of us can support each other.
In the morning Drew’s getting ready as usual, but I stop him. “Need a word.”
“You want me to skip school?”
It’s not that I do, but that I think he needs to. We’ve got things to talk about. I’m relying on the fact he’s got an old head on young shoulders. “Yeah.” I wave him through the doorway. I shiver, the weather’s cooler here than in Tucson, but not as cold as some parts of the Rez. “Let’s take a walk.”
His eyes crease, but he raises and dips his chin. “You want to talk about Mariana.”
It’s obvious, so I don’t reply. “No beating around the bush. I don’t think there’s a chance of anything else. Got to deal with the fact she’s going to be deported.”
Suddenly his hand’s on my arm, his eyes flaring. “Don’t say that, Tse. Please don’t say that. There’s got to be a chance.”
“Worst-case scenario.” I give him that. I lean my back against a tree. “But we’ve got to be prepared for it.”
“What does that mean?” He’s paled.
“She stays out of the US for at least five years before she can apply to come back.”
“I’ll go with her,” he offers without hesitation. “She can’t go back on her own.”
Raising my head, my eyes focus on his. “You’ll stay here. Complete your education.”
“She can’t go alone.”
“She won’t be.” It’s now I take a deep breath and jump into the unknown, the decision I know is the only one I can make. Would have preferred more time to date her, get to know her, but I know I don’t want her with anyone else. That’s enough to base a relationship on, isn’t it? Under the circumstances. “I’ll go with her. Marry her.”
His eyes widen. “You’d do that?” Suddenly he’s almost bouncing with excitement. “If she’s married to a US citizen, she can get a green card, can’t she?”
I hate to dampen his spirits. “It’s not as easy as that. Married or not, if she’s deported, the five-year limit will apply.” Could be ten or twenty years. I force my mind away from what I’d be giving up. We’ll have to prove it’s not a marriage of convenience. Remembering the feeling of her behind me on my bike, consummating the marriage would not be a problem. I’m offering up my life here. To a woman I don’t know. I don’t even know what she’d think of my proposal. Would she want to shackle herself to me?
“Thing is, Drew. If she leaves under a deportation order, it will be harder for her to return. Much as I hate to say it, if she leaves voluntarily and pays her own way, that would go in her favour.”
He stills. “Voluntary deportation? That’s what
you’re suggesting? That she agrees to leave.”
“I’d be with her,” I remind him. The vision of riding away from my club is painful, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone. I’d survive. We both would. Five years isn’t so bad. It could be an adventure. Or not.
He kicks a stone on the ground, and then another. Finally, he looks up. “That’s saying she’s got to give up. Isn’t it better for her to fight while she’s still here? There’s such a risk. Even with you. If she returns to Colombia…”
“What do you want me to say, Drew?” I suddenly round on him. “That everything’s going to turn out right? What have we got left to fight with?”
Now this young kid’s up in my face. “With everything we’ve fucking got,” he shouts. “She’s innocent, she committed no crime. We should prove that. And find reasons why she can’t return and fight for asylum. There’s things we can do, Tse.” He turns away, then swings back. “Take me back to Tucson. If you won’t do it, I fucking will. We’re talking about my sister’s life here, her happiness. I’m not going to give up on that. I need her. She’s been my mom for the past six years. I’m not going to let you take her away from me. There must be something we can do.”
He’s challenging me. My eyes flare. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Instead I start questioning myself. What have I been doing? I’ve given a lawyer all my savings, but what have I actually done? Looked for information from behind my computer screen, hoping to find the answers there. Perhaps I should have been doing more. Questioning Todd Jenkins for a start, getting him to tell the truth, not giving up when I hadn’t been able to find him at home. Going back time after time until I’d seen him face to face. That’s what my brothers would have done. Not taking no for an answer. And doing more to find out what Mariana would be heading back into. I might be paying the lawyer, but I’ve given her nothing to fight with.
It’s taken a fifteen-year-old boy to show me by doing what I thought was right, handling my problems alone, I may be wrong. Drummer’s voice echoes in my head. Every man who sits around that table would be there at your back. Perhaps it is time to involve them.
Drew’s staring at me as though he can see wheels turning in my head. “I’ve researched Colombia. It would be a nightmare for my sister. Two years’ military service is mandatory once someone leaves high school, I don’t know if she’d have to do that. She’ll need to pay taxes on anything earned in or out of the country. Which means she could be liable for back tax on everything she’s earned in the US. She wouldn’t be able to pay it. She doesn’t speak the language or know anything about the country. And on top of all that, she’d have to stay out of the way of our father.”
“I hear you. And I suppose she hasn’t got a passport.”
“Or identity card.” He kicks another stone. “Just her birth certificate back at the trailer.”
I don’t waste another moment coming to a decision.
“We are going back to Tucson,” I announce, my tone set. “Go pack your things, Drew, or the essential stuff which will go in the saddle bags. Anything else we can collect later.”
Hopeful eyes are turned to me. “We’re going to fight?”
I look around the Rez, my Navajo blood stirring within me. “Yes, Drew.” My voice is full of determination. “We’re going to fight.”
A seven-hour bike ride as a pillion passenger who’s not used to riding has to be tough, but though Drew rubs his ass at the extra stops I put in, not once does he complain. With the breaks for him to stretch and fill his teenage stomach a few times, we don’t arrive on the compound until after midnight. I take him straight up to my room where he again demonstrates his young years by falling fast asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. While I lie awake, wondering how I’m going to explain him, and everything else, to Drummer and my brothers in the morning.
“I can’t believe I’m on a biker compound,” Drew says through a yawn as he walks out of my bathroom. “Ma would have a fit if she knew.”
I bet he’s right on that. “She’ll know soon enough.” I reach over the bed and grabbing my jeans, slide into them.
He walks to the door and looks out at the balcony and the view beyond. “Not quite what I expected.”
“It was an old vacation resort that burned up,” I explain before disappearing into the bathroom myself, “club bought it cheap and rebuilt it.”
“Wow.”
“Come on.” Drew’s gone outside and is leaning on the balcony when I come out, having showered and shaved in minutes. I’m as prepared as I can be for the day ahead.
Drew’s gazing around, his eyes wide, taking in his new surroundings, as we walk down to the clubhouse. Last night when he arrived it had been dark, now he can see it in all its glory. He pauses for a moment to admire all the Harleys parked up before following me into the clubroom, his nose twitching as he smells bacon. Rolling my eyes, I lead him straight to the source.
He stops dead when he comes face to face with Peg, Blade, Wraith, Dollar and Bullet, and takes a sideways step to move behind me when, almost as one, they put down their forks.
Blade lifts his knife, points it at Drew, and growls, “Who the fuck is this, Mouse?”
I knew it was coming. “Friend of mine, I’ll explain later. Need to have a chat with Drummer first. Kid wants some food.”
“How old are you, kid?”
A timid voice from behind me responds. “Er, fifteen.”
His tender age seems to relax them, but as I wave Drew forward to take a seat, he appears tentative as he sits down.
Sam’s eyes travel over him, then she smiles, puts together a plate and brings it over. “What’s your name?”
“Drew.”
“Well, Drew. If you’re a friend of Mouse, you’re welcome. Hey, guys. Introduce yourselves. Make the kid feel at home.” Her tone is pleasant, the glare she gives my brothers is almost as scary as her old man’s.
Knowing my brothers are understandably suspicious of strangers, and the trouble they may bring along with them, seeing Wraith shaking his head at Sam, I do the introductions for them. “Wraith here is our VP, Blade our enforcer, the bearded one’s Peg, our sergeant-at-arms, and that’s Dollar who looks after our money.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Drew’s voice is respectful, but cautious. He gets a couple of chin lifts in return, but not from everyone.
Blade’s studying him carefully. “You in trouble?” he asks, bluntly.
“No, he’s not.” I speak for him. “But he’s my responsibility, so don’t any of you assholes go upsetting him.”
Eyes widen at that. Wraith gives me a considering glance. “He the reason you’ve been absent so much lately?”
“Part of it.” I hope my concise answer will stop the questions. Turning to Drew, I point to his plate. “Get that inside you, then we’ll go meet the prez.”
He eats, but more cautiously than I’ve seen him before, each mouthful accompanied by nervous glances toward the men sitting around the table. I take my own plate from Sam with thanks, and start on the eggs and bacon. Joker and Lady appear, arms around each other. Drew looks from them to the others, his jaw dropping open. Inwardly I smile, yeah, we’re a slightly different type of MC, an all-inclusive club. I note Joker and Lady seem so wrapped up in each other, they’re paying no attention to the newcomer in their midst.
“How’s Beef?” I ask.
Wraith stares, then sighs. “Oh, fuck. Forgot you missed that. Fucker almost died the day you left. Took a sudden downturn. That he survived is a fuckin’ miracle. He’s on the mend now.”
I stopped eating while Wraith was explaining, guilt washing over me that I’d left my brother behind without a thought. He could have died.
Bullet’s glaring at me. “I hope now you’re back, and you seem to have brought your issues with you, that you’ve pulled your head out of your ass.”
“I have. Gonna need your help, Brothers.” I look around at each of them. “Want to run it by Prez first though.” That I
have ‘pulled my head out of my ass’, as Bullet so eloquently put it, is all down to the boy by my side, the youth with the now clean plate in front of him. “Prez around?”
At their nods, and Wraith’s head jerk in the direction of Prez’s office, I pick up Drew’s plate and mine, and put them in the dishwasher. “Come on, Drew.” Time to face the music.
Chapter 17
Mouse
With Drew sitting beside me, I tell Drummer the full story. From the first time I met Mariana to now. It’s hard to read the expression on his face, difficult to know what he’s thinking. His lack of reaction makes it easier to explain. Whatever he may say to me later, in front of Drew, at least, he’s giving away nothing. When I’ve completed the story, he takes out his phone and sends a quick text.
Seconds later, Truck appears. “Prospect. Can you take young Drew here under your wing for a while?”
As any prospect should, Truck agrees without asking any questions. “Sure thing, Prez.”
When Drew looks at me, I give him a look of encouragement. “I’ll catch up with you soon,” I reassure him.
When the door’s closed behind them, Drummer sits back and folds his arms over his chest. “I take it this Mariana means something to you?”
I don’t immediately answer, looking down at my hands. After a few seconds have passed, I look up. “It’s stupid, crazy, Prez. But yeah, I care for her. A lot.”
“Enough that you’d claim her? Marry her?”
That’s what I told him. “Yeah.”
“Are you sayin’ that just to get her legal? ‘Cause you’re going to face one fuck of a lot of suspicion. You’ll have to make it appear genuine.” His face grows grim. “I don’t give a damn about citizen laws, but that’s not going to be easy.”
“If you think it would be a fake marriage, then that’s what everyone else would. Prez, I haven’t even asked her yet. She might say no. I’ve told her she’s my fiancée. Not even had a chance to question what she thinks about that.”
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