Page 39 of Mouse Trapped

“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 mensitting 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.”

“You talked yourself into this marriage thing as a way to try to save her? Get her a fuckin’ green card?”

I’m quiet for a moment. There could be a bit of that in there. I shrug. But how can I admit there’s a lot more to it than that? That already, she means something to me.

“Let’s pick this apart. Her mother was killed by her father when she was sent back to Colombia. I want to know all we can about this man. What have you found out, Mouse?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tell him, “Not a lot. He’s supposed to be a general in their army, but I’m having no luck finding his service record. From what Mariana’s said, he’s a violent man. And vindictive, with what happened to her mother. I found letters, Prez. Letters from her mother that backed up her story. I’ve got a feeling about her father. There’s a reason I can’t find him.”

“Have you asked Devil?” My eyes sharpen. I hadn’t thought of that. “It’s a long shot, but he might have heard something.”

Devil owns a security firm in London, works internationally, and we came across him when he was a consultant to the feds. He’s got fingers in a lot of pies and has been a good friend to the club in return for our services.

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