Chapter 1
Mouse
Glancing at the monitor in front of me, I pass a hand over my reddened eyes. Nothing changes or leaps out at me. This code has beaten me for hours. The ashtray is full to overflowing, and my stomach growls reminding me just how long I’ve been sitting here.
Reluctantly I pull my gaze away from the screen and roll my neck, trying to ease the stiffness, only now hearing the muffled sounds wafting in from the clubroom that’s just a few feet away from my office door. Outside will be a collection of my brothers, both those who remain single and the others with old ladies. Though, with Peg recently getting hitched, the former group, of which I’m still a loyal member, seems to be shrinking.
Outside is a world of camaraderie, of support, of love. All I have to do is step out of my door to be part of it.
A part of something. The reason why I joined the Satan’s Devils. To have a place where I could feel a sense of belonging. My hands reach back and untie the leather thong keeping the strands together, letting my long dark hair hang free. Running my fingers through it, I tie it back neatly once again. The hair that reminds me of my heritage, a mix of Anglo and Native American blood, a visible sign I’m neither one thing nor the other. The juxtaposition of my two lives sometimes jarring, often causing a bone-deep restlessness inside me.
It’s not that I’m bored, never that. How could I be when I have the whole world at my fingertips? Power beneath my handsthat I make the choice to use wisely. The dark web, the deep web, those nefarious depths where black and white merge into grey. Where I delight in my solitude, stepping in then back out without leaving a footprint. Where I can escape from the disquiet in my soul. Something’s missing, but I can’t put a name to what it is.Purpose?What I do for the club is invaluable, I know that. Putting aside my usefulness, there remains a hole in my soul, which I don’t know how to fill.
What day is it? What’s the time?
Another roll of my stomach reminds me it must have been hours since I’ve eaten. Unwinding my long limbs, I stand and stretch, trying to get the kink out of my shoulders. Even I realise it’s unhealthy to keep going on like this, burying myself away, hiding from the camaraderie just outside my office, preferring solitude to socialising with my brothers.Something has to give.
Taking a breath, I open the door and step out into another world. It’s bright, I blink rapidly. While my office has windows, the blinds are constantly pulled down. The way the light falls suggests it’s mid-afternoon, so the sunlight shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.How long have I been in there?
“Hey, Mouse. Wanna game?” Rock’s playing pool by himself, but I’m not feeling companionable.
My gut gives a loud grumble as though trying to answer him. “Nah, Brother. Going to get something to eat.”
He waves his hand, and goes back to practising shots again.
Heading in the general direction of the kitchen, I take a second to divert to the bar where a bored Jill is standing, and wave to the sodas. As though I’m putting her to great trouble, she pulls her eyes away from the pool table behind me, and at last takes a bottle from the cooler. A dark stare has her opening it. I’m teetotal by nature. My late teenage years were spent on the Rez of the Navajo Nation where alcohol possession is illegal. Not that there weren’t ways to get a hold of it if you wanted tobad enough. There may have been a couple of times that I’d partaken, but for the most part, I learned to go without it, and that’s become habit.
Marijuana, now that’s my drug of choice. A mellowing sensation, but without the hangover.
Sophie, the VP’s old lady, is in the kitchen, plating up something for Olivia, her daughter. “Mouse.” She gives a broad smile when she sees me. “If you’ve come for food, there’s not much, I’m afraid. Oh, there’s pizza left over from lunch.” After her comment, she goes back to her daughter who’s starting to fuss.
Ruffling the kid’s head as I pass, I go to the fridge, cutting myself a slice of the sad looking said pizza. I lean against the counter and start eating. Consuming leftovers doesn’t bother me, on the Rez nothing was wasted. As the food goes into my mouth, I occupy myself by watching the only other people in the room. Ollie’s a cute kid, and Sophie makes a great mom. As I eat mechanically I ponder how it doesn’t bother me that my brothers are hooking up with old ladies. I don’t mind the kids in the clubhouse, even if I can’t see any of that in my future. Why bring another person into a world that will surely fuck them up?
I must be frowning, because Sophie’s brow knits. “Is that okay for you, Mouse? Want me to rustle you up something else? I don’t mind.”
The VP’s woman wouldn’t, she’s a good sort like that. “Nah, I’m fine. Just wanted something to take the edge off.”
“You going to be around for dinner later? Going to be bloody good. Got one of Ma’s recipes to try.”
“Nah, I’m going out,” I tell her. “I’ll make do with whatever’s left over.”
“Ha! If it’s anything like normal, these guys won’t leave much. Want me to put something aside for you?”
I give a grateful chin lift as I go out the door. It couldn’t hurt. Today I don’t feel like sitting around the table, conversing with my brothers.
Apart from Rock, there are only a few others in the clubroom so my progress is unimpeded as I make my way past, only having to slap a few backs in the process, earning reciprocal ones on mine. Then I’m outside, sliding my sunglasses out of my cut as I stride toward my bike.
Matt, the prospect, is on gate duty. He must have heard my engine, as he slides the barrier open in time so I don’t even need to slow down. Raising my fingers from the clutch, I send him my thanks as I roll on by.
The wildfire, a couple of months back, ruined the surface of the track that leads to the clubhouse, but Viper and Bullet’s crew have laid new asphalt and now it’s good and smooth. But I don’t pick up speed until I’m out on the highway, then knock up through those gears until I’m in top. My Harley rumbles beneath me, the wind blows through my hair. A sense of freedom all by itself, however, today it’s not my steel steed I’m going to enjoy the most. I’m looking forward to a different type of ride.
I don’t need to travel far. Soon I’m pulling in to a rough-looking lot, carefully manoeuvring my bike over the worst of the jagged stones, coming to a fairly level area where I kick down the stand, turn off the engine, and step off.
My sunglasses back in my cut, the cut itself safely stored in my saddle bag, I saunter over to the office. The door’s ajar, the room’s empty. I’m not surprised. Taking a familiar path, I go around the back, walk past a corral, and over to the stables.
“My friend!” Jacob is lifting a bale of hay on his shoulder. It overbalances as he turns to greet me, but my hand’s there pushing it back in place. “You here to ride?”
I grin, pulling a loose strand of hay from the bale and slipping it between my teeth. “Well, I’m not here to shoot the shit,” I agree, speaking around it.
