“He, we, can’t afford a car,” I hiss. It’s out of the question. Especially as mine was wrecked. Not that I’m ever likely to be driving in Arizona again.
“I can. I’m buying him one. Just a little run-around that he can use to get to school and back. I, and my brothers, will be his accompanying drivers until he’s been driving six months.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” I’m torn. It should have been my job. Drew would be over the moon to learn to drive. Should I hold him back? Is it fair? Just because I’m incarcerated doesn’t mean his life should come to a halt too. I don’t want to sign; it feels like I’m abandoning my brother. Then I look at Tse’s intense face, and realise I can do nothing for my brother from here. Can’t keep or get him out of trouble. Perhaps I’m lucky Tse is offering to take him on.
“You’re not asking.” Tse’s brow creases. “Look, Mariana, I know it’s hard for you, fuck knows how difficult it is for you in here. But the uncertainty’s killing Drew too. This gives him something to look forward to. Doesn’t mean he cares about you less, but it’s not good for the kid to be constantly worrying. That’s partly why I’ve got him back to familiarity, and going back to his old school. And why I’ve taken him to the compound instead of leaving him on the Rez.”
He’s making me feel selfish. But I’m the one who should be teaching Drew to drive. Not anyone else. I’m not even certain what I feel about his version of normality for my little brother. A compound?
Now he smooths out the paper again. “No one can help Drew get a permit unless someone’s made his legal guardian. Signing this assigns those rights to me.”
I’m really trying hard to process all this. “Have you thought this through? It’s not only getting his driver’s permit. People will be looking to you as the one responsible for him.”
He taps the paper. “I don’t know how long you’ll be in here, Mariana. I know as a kid younger than Drew, you were abandoned and forgotten by the system, but what if someone starts asking questions about your brother? I don’t want to see him put in the system.”
I don’t want to sign him away like you’d part with an unwanted pet. This seems wrong. “Is this all I need to do?”
“You sign, Carissa will sort out the legal details. It’s not something that’s unheard of in here.”
No, it’s probably not. I’ve met a number of women who’ve been separated from their children.
What’s best for Drew? That’s what I’ve got to think of. I can’t see any other option; all I’ve got is Tse. I feel rushed, pressured, but Tse is right. A teacher or social worker might start interfering. I suppose I’d rather he was with this man sitting opposite me than with anyone else. There are tears in my eyes as I find my answer. “I’ll sign.”
Tse signals the guard who, when asked, produces a pen. When Tse mentions something to him, he nods. After I sign Drew away, the guard witnesses my signature, then takes his pen and moves back to his position. Tears blur my eyes as I look up. “Take care of him for me, Tse?”
Compassion shines out from his. “I promise I will.”
“Do you know why I was moved?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Perhaps I should have asked, how close am I to being deported?
“Carissa’s got some ideas. None bad. Judge might have a lighter caseload here. And the sooner we get you in front of a judge, sooner we can get your case heard.”
“How long might that be?” There’s people who’ve been here months. One, that I know of, over a year. From Tse’s headshake, I know he can’t tell me. Nobody can.
“Mariana. You’ve got people on your side working to get you released.”
“You and Carissa. Yes.”
He smiles. “Not just me. All my brothers too. And we’ve got a security consultant trying to dig up dirt on your father.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. Why would his club help me? I make that my next question. His answer takes my breath away.
“Because I claimed you.”
“Claimed me?”
He raises his chin and looks straight into my eyes. “Good as a marriage in my world. But we’ll do that as well. Soon as you get out of here, you and I are getting hitched.”
“Tse!” I hiss loudly, drawing a few looks. “Don’t be stupid. The likely way I’m getting out is on a one-way flight to Colombia.”
“Then I’ll follow you.”
Shaking my head, I explain. “It’s not easy, and probably not possible for me to get a green card even if I marry you. I might never be able to come back. Even if I have a sham of a wedding and am married to a US citizen.”
He rears back, then leans forward, his words spoken so softly I have to strain to hear. “Who says it will be a sham?” Then he sits straight again, one brow raised as if challenging me.
“You don’t know me, I don’t know you…”
“I know enough to make a commitment to you in front of my brothers.” His hands smooth back his hair. “See, Mariana, I figure getting horny at the thought of someone is a very good place to start.”
He gets horny thinking of me? My face glows. “I don’t think that’s all that matters, Tse. There’s got to be more than that.”
He folds his arms, places them on the table and leans on them. “I came running to help you when Drew called. I’ve organised a top fuckin’ lawyer for you. I’m lookin’ after your brother. I’m visiting you in these damn places. Would I do that if I didn’t care for you?”
His words pull me up. He’s right. Since my mom was deported, no one’s ever watched out for me in the way he has.
Seeing he’s made me think, he resumes, “I’ve never done anything like this before. Never felt I wanted to. Never cared enough.”
He cares, but whenever I thought about doing the impossible, being able to date and marry a man, I always thought it would be for love.
“Is that a good enough basis for marriage?”
“Mariana,” he growls. “That night I rode away from you, have you any fuckin’ idea how hard it was for me to not come back? The only reason I stayed away was out of respect for your wishes, that I didn’t want to expose you to any risk.” He huffs. “Not that it did any good in the end.”
He’s right. It didn’t. Where would we be now if I had let him into my life? My voice is soft, and croaks, as I admit, “And I wanted you to come back.” I had. My dreams had been filled with longing for the mysterious man who’d come into my life.
He sits back as though he’s won a victory. “So we’re just cutting out the stuff in between.”
Could he be right? “Do you really think this has any chance of working?”
“If we both put the effort in, yes, it does.”
A bell rings. It’s the end of our visit. I don’t want him to go. But is that just because he’s a friendly face? Or is there really more between us?
I stand with the rest of the inmates, say a quick and inadequate goodbye. Then take leave of my fiancé. The man who says he’s claimed me in front of his club.
Chapter 20
Mouse
“That the right house?”
Answering Blade, I tell him, “Yeah.”
“Lights are on. Looks like someone’s home.” Peg’s eyes are fixed on the one storey in front of us.
Blade grins evilly. “What we waiting for, then?”
I roll my eyes. “His wife to leave for work.” She works nights. I’ve already found that out.
“There’s movement,” Peg announces.
We all freeze. The front door opens, and out walks a woman. From the casually yelled ‘goodbye’ over her shoulder, I take it that’s the wife we’ve been waiting for.
We stay in place while the woman backs a car out of the garage, and then for a moment longer when she drives off. As her taillights disappear into the distance, the three of us straighten and move out from the bushes behind which we’ve been crouched.
Blade takes the lead, I don’t argue. Drummer was right, I tend to fight my battles from behind a de
sk rather than face to face. Not that I can’t hold my own if I need to, but the enforcer’s more used to this shit. I stand back as he knocks on the door.
Heavy footsteps reach us, then it’s opened by a man with a large paunch. His eyes narrow suspiciously.
“Mr Jenkins?”
“Who wants to know?”
Well, in my mind that confirms it. If he wasn’t, he’d have said upfront.
“Need to talk with you.”
“I’m busy.” As he goes to shut the door, Blade’s steel toe-capped boot prevents it closing. He pushes inside, forcing Jenkins to step back. Peg and I follow, Peg turning to close the door.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Jenkins’ eyes flicker between us, and sweat starts to appear on his brow. “I’d like you to leave before I call the cops.”
“Now, now,” Blade starts, his voice sounding amused. “Why would you do that when we’ve just popped around for a friendly chat.”
“I’ve got no money.”
The enforcer’s head shakes. “Not here for cash or to steal shit. Just want a conversation like I said.”
Jenkins’ eyes narrow. “Don’t know what we have to talk about. But you can say what you need to, then get out.”
While our target’s been talking, Peg’s been circling around to his back. Now his big meaty arms have Jenkins’ pinned. “Search him.” Peg jerks his chin to me.
Jenkins is kicking, trying to get free, but the sergeant-at-arms has got him in a firm hold. I find a gun tucked into his waistband, and relieve him of it fast. While I’ve been occupied, Blade’s taken out a knife. One of his favourites by the look of it. Jenkins stills when it’s laid against his cheek.
“That your wife who just left?” Blade casually asks.
“Yeah.” The whites of the man’s eyes are clearly visible. “She’ll be back in a minute. She’ll call the cops.”
“You’re lying.” Blade angles the flat of the blade, and slides it down Jenkins’ face to his throat.
“She’s gone to work,” he squeals as he corrects himself.
“Better.” Blade grins. It’s that evil one again. “Now my brother here wants to have a discussion with you. You’re going to listen, then do what we need done. You hear me? You do it right, then you’ll not see us again. Do anything else, and I’ll slice you into fuckin’ pieces.”
Peg asks nonchalantly, “Gonna cut his dick off, like you did to that other asshole?”
“Could be a possibility,” Blade replies thoughtfully. “Didn’t take long for him to bleed out.”
“Screaming the whole time,” Peg adds. “Looked fuckin’ painful to me.”
If Jenkins looked worried earlier, he seems terrified now. I know Blade and Peg aren’t kidding, I’ve watched the enforcer’s handiwork before, and the sergeant-at-arms can have useful ideas of his own. Jenkins can’t know they’re telling the truth, but in his position, I wouldn’t want to put it to the test.
“What do you want me to do?” Jenkins’ eyes flick between us.
“You crashed into a car a few weeks back. Rammed it. On purpose. Put the blame on the woman driver.”
“It was her fault,” he protests. “Bitch stopped in front of me deliberately.”
I glare at him, but keep to my script. “Need you to go to the police and change your story.”
“Change my fucking story? What I said was the truth. Fucking bitch could have killed me. Got a neck brace I’m still wearing for whiplash.”
“You’re not wearing it now,” Peg observes. And fuck me, when I look around, I see it conveniently placed by the front door.
“So you’re running an insurance scam.” Blade’s almost looking impressed. Until that knife’s lowered and in a flash has cut the button off his fly.
Jenkins struggles, but Peg’s holding him tight. “I can’t contradict my story,” he shouts. “Fuckin’ cops would arrest me instead.”
“You can change it. Say it was a blur when you first spoke to them. The light was just changing, you thought she’d be going across, so you accelerated to get through after her, but she stopped on amber. You couldn’t brake in time.”
“Then they’d have me for intending to run a red light.”
“You’ll have to attend a traffic school, but that’s surely better than having your cock sliced off.”
“They could take my licence.”
“First offence? Maybe a thirty-day suspension.” See? I’ve looked it all up. I doubt the cops would do much about it. In their view, his wrongdoing allowed them to catch an illegal immigrant. I don’t give a damn, as long as those charges are dropped. “Of course, there’s no evidence. Just your word. Probably tell you, you should have come forward earlier, but with your injury they’ll understand you were confused.”
Blade turns around and shows him the back of his cut. “You know who we are.”
“Satan’s Devils. I can fucking read. I don’t understand why the fuck this matters to you.”
“That’s none of your business. But if you don’t do what we say, we will be back.”
Have we scared him enough?
“If I do…”
“You won’t hear or see from us again.”
“I’ll know when you’ve done it.” I will, with Marcia’s help. She can point me to the police database where the report of his changed statement will be recorded.
“You’ve got one day,” Blade suddenly snaps. “Tomorrow. If you don’t, we will be back.”
I can’t tell by his face whether he’ll do it or not. As we leave the house, my gut tells me he won’t. When Peg raises his eyebrows, I know he’s thinking the same thing. Man’s faking a neck injury to get a good insurance pay out. Going to take more than one visit, I expect.
Blade pauses by his bike. “Thought he’d piss himself at least,” he tells us, morosely.
“Man did worse than that,” Peg huffs. “You weren’t standing behind him.” He takes in a deep breath as though he needs it. “Crapped himself. Didn’t either of you two assholes smell it?”
“There was something rank.” I glance at the enforcer. “Just thought Blade had farted.”
I get a shove which puts me off-balance, and I stumble a few steps before righting myself.
“How did it go?” Drummer’s standing at the bar with his arm around Sam as we walk back into the clubhouse. I shrug. Who can tell?
“Mouse!” Drew comes over. “I can’t thank you enough.”
I slap him on the back. I’ve barely seen him since Blade drove the car back earlier. He’s been down at the auto-shop just sitting in the car, listening to music, some modern crap I’ve been told.
“Sound system’s as loud as fuckin’ shit,” Road grumbles as he walks past. Hmm. Seems his fifteen-year-old musical taste isn’t appreciated by everyone. I grin after my brother as he walks away. His comment was said good-naturedly.
Apart from the audio and speakers which are obviously in good working order, Blade’s pretty sure it’s mechanically sound, he’s given it the once over himself.
Raising my chin toward Mariana’s brother, I tell him, “Just keep studying and doing the practice tests to make sure you’re going to pass your written exam. Once you’ve done that, we’ll go get your learner’s permit.”
“I will, Mouse.”
Good to see the kid enthusiastic about something. Seeing the enforcer walking in, he makes a beeline for him, probably to ask him something else about his damn car. Shaking my head, I grin, grab a soda from Paige who’s bartender for the night, then go to my office. After taking a swig from the bottle and wiping my hand over the back of my mouth, I sit back. Have we done enough to make Jenkins change his story?
The importance of whether we have or not diminishes the next morning when I get a call from an unknown number.
“Yeah?”
“Er, is this the person who placed the leaflet about the recent collision?”
I sit up straight. “Certainly is.”
“I saw it. Saw what happened. Poor
girl was stopped; a man drove straight into her. I do hope she’s okay.”
“Ma’am, she’s really not.” She’s not injured, or wasn’t badly enough for the cops to delay calling in ICE. “Look, can we meet to discuss this?” A voice on the phone is one thing, I need to pin this person down, check whether she’d be a credible witness.
“Don’t see why not. If we can meet somewhere public. I don’t know who I’m talking to.”
“My name’s Tse Williamson. And that would be fine with me. Name the time and place.”
She names a coffee shop, and a time which is just half an hour away. I can make it if I push it. Ending the call, I race through the clubhouse, not stopping even when Wraith calls my name. I’m on my bike and flying out of the compound before I start processing the ramifications. This could be just what we were looking for. I try not to get my hopes up, but it’s hard not to feel optimistic. Just once, just fucking once, could things go Mariana’s way?
The coffee shop isn’t crowded, and there’s only one woman sitting on her own. I go to the counter and order a drink, saying my name loudly. Having to spell it out for the girl to write on the cup. When I turn around, the woman in the corner raises her hand. Making a quick perusal, I walk over. She’s white, not young, but not too old to be unreliable. Well dressed. She’d tick many boxes. Approaching the table, I hold out my hand. “Tse Williamson.”
“Martha Schmitt.”
My name is called from behind me. I go back to collect the drink I didn’t really want, then return to the table and sit down. “Ma’am, thank you for meeting me. Can you remember what you saw that day?”
“Sure can. Such a loud crash. I was waiting for a friend to finish purchasing something, looking out of the window wondering whether there was going to be a storm. Saw the light turn red and a car pull up and stop. Suddenly another car came up out of the blue, didn’t look like he even slowed down.”
“You didn’t say anything to the police who turned up?”
She shakes her head. “No. Why should I? Enough people went running over, I thought one of them would have said something. My friend was ready to leave, so I left. Thought nothing more about it until I saw your leaflet.”
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