Page 59 of Mouse Trapped


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It’s tempting, but still I have doubts which are clearly visible.

“That kid in the Chevy, well, it was his fault. But he swerved because of us.”

“Drummer.” I use his name for the first time, not knowing at that time just how much he, and the rest of the men, would come to mean to me. “Not your business, you were just riding on the road.”

“Can’t leave a fellow biker stranded,” he insists.

Giving in, simply because it was easier to say yes than argue, I wait until their crash truck arrives, then travel back sitting alongside a man who simply has the word Prospect on the back of his vest.

Their auto-shop is on their compound. As we drive in, my eyes open in wonder. I remember this being a vacation resort, though the name escapes me now. I hadn’t realised who’d bought it up after the fire destroyed it. At the gate, there’s no immediate evidence of a fire now, just a spanking new garage, and further up, buildings which look like they’ve been rebuilt or restored. But beyond that there are burned-out shells. Still working on it, I suppose.

They’re efficient. Have my bike downloaded and jacked up fast. I wince as Blade pulls out the fender, but at least the tire’s free and can be removed. A new one is wheeled out quickly.

I’m leaning against a workbench. I’d assumed the president would probably have better things to do, but he comes and stands next to me, and his eyes watch Blade working.

“So, Tse. Nice bike.”

I huff. It was before it got smashed. “I restored it a few years back.”

“Good work,” Blade shouts out. “Nice. Shame it got scratched up.”

I shrug. Things get broke, get fixed. “I’ll just have to work on the paintwork again.”

“You got anywhere to do it?”

I live in a one-room apartment without a yard. Perhaps it will wait until I visit the Rez. Fuck, I’ll hate riding around on my baby looking like that. The shake of my head gives Drummer the answer.

“You’re welcome to work on it here.”

His offer takes me by surprise. As I turn to him with my eyes wide open, I start re-examining my impressions of the Satan’s Devils. “That’s great, man, I may well take you up on that.”

That’s how it starts. A week or so later, while I am respraying the paintwork, Blade is swearing about the shop’s computer system going down. I handle that shit fast. He’s picked up a virus, I restore the lost files.

Blade is a strange man, mostly serious. When I learn he’s the club enforcer, I’m not surprised. Working alongside him, I suppose we share a few tales.

“Hey, Tse, you back again?”

“Viper, yeah.” I grin at him. “Not for much longer, it’s almost done now.”

“Looks like fuckin’ new.”

I preen at the compliment. Yeah, it’s turned out better than ever. Helps when you’ve got the right equipment, and access to spare parts.

“Guess you won’t be seeing so much of me.” If I sound disappointed, I am. I’ve met a number of the men, and get on with them all. I’ve begun to enjoy the camaraderie, the good-natured jabs, and seeing the relationship between them. I’m an outsider looking in, but I envy what they have.

Wraith, who I’ve learned is the VP, is watching me carefully. Then he says something I don’t expect. “Always looking for good prospects.”

That night, I spend time reviewing the future I thought I’d seen in front of me. A job working with computers. Maybe eventually my own business. A corporate life. But is that for me? The white side says it’s right and proper, and what I should do. But the side that lived on the Rez chimes in that I wouldn’t be able to bear the restrictions.

Maybe I’m throwing away my education, but armed with my degree, I join the Satan’s Devils. And I never look back.

Especially today.

“Mariana’s had her initial hearing,” Carissa updated me earlier. As she’d expected it had only taken fifteen minutes, so she’d warned me it wasn’t worth me going along. That they’d schedule another was, as the lawyer had advised me, a foregone conclusion. “Her full immigration hearing is on Tuesday,” I update my brothers in church. “I’ll be going down to LA.”

Prez stares that steely stare. “What are her chances?”

“Good, I think, Prez. It’s a public hearing, but Devil’s been in touch with the lawyer. She’s going to ask that part of the hearing is conducted in private. She’s got a sealed envelope to give to the judge. I don’t know what’s in it, but assume it will state her special circumstances, and that she should be granted asylum to stay in the US.”