Page 98 of Mouse Trapped

“When can I get out? I want to see Drew…”

“Drew’s coming in later. Blade’s bringing him along. You’ve been in and out of it for a couple of days.” He studies me for a moment. “You look more with it now.”

Two days?My mind is blurry, vague memories of Tse leaning over and pushing the pain med pump. I try a glare. “Think that might have been you pumping me full of morphine.”

He grimaces. “Don’t like to see you in pain. How is it now?”

I reach my hand down, but withdraw it when I touch the bandages. “Sore, but bearable.”

“You hurt? You take something for it, okay?”

“I had some weird dreams.” I had. I could swear there’d been a horse standing beside me. I remember reaching out to stroke its nose, but only hit air.

“That’s the morphine, darlin’. It can do that.”

I decide there and then I won’t be using it, except as a last resort.

“Mariana, darlin’, I know you’re probably still a bit woozy, but I need to know some things. You know where your driver’s licence and social security card are?”

Why does he want to know that? Why’s it the first thing he’s asking me?He’s right, my head does still feel fuzzy. Rather than dwelling on the why, and probably receiving a convoluted response, it’s easier just to answer his question. “My licence was in my purse, I suppose the cops took it. The social security card is in a box in the trailer.”

“Hmm.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Do you know your social security number?” He doesn’t sound hopeful.

“I do.” I was proud to get it, to be able to work, to pay my taxes.

His eyes light up. “Then it seems fairly simple to get a replacement licence. There’s a form to fill in online.” He starts tapping. “What’s your date of birth?”

I tell him and give him the other information he needs. Including my address at the trailer park. I can’t wait to be back there with Drew.

The pain in my leg is worsening. Tse’s brow furrows as he shows me the pain pump but I’ve been sleeping so long I don’t want to use it. For now, I’ll try to put up with it. Gingerly I go to pull myself up, Tse’s there immediately, raising the head of the bed.

I don’t understand why he’s completing online forms for me. “Tse, I don’t even have a car. Why would I need a driver’slicence? I can replace it eventually.”As long as I’m allowed to stay in the US.

His face softens as he tells me, “So we can get married as soon as possible.”

I hadn’t thought he was serious. Or at least, I thought that he’d give us more time to get to know each other first. My jaw drops and my eyes open wide as I stare at him, pain fading as my brain struggles to work through the fog. “Tse, we can’t get married.”

He places his lips to my head, peering down through long dark eyelashes, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Why not?”

“We’ve never dated, never spoken about what we want out of life. We don’t know each other.”

“We might not have had a conventional relationship, but my soul calls to yours.” As I’m stunned into silence by his poetic words, he continues. “I can’t let you go, Mariana. I’ve claimed you in front of my club.”

“I thought that was only to get them to help you.”

“Definitely not,” he protests. He takes in a breath audibly. “I can’t explain it, but I feel a connection to you. I think we’d be good together.”

I can’t deny I’m attracted to him. But what would I know? He’s the first man who’s paid me any attention, or who I’ve allowed to get close. “I’m not saying I’d never marry you, but I can’t say that now. I can’t make a commitment when I don’t know what’s going to happen to me…”

“Mariana,” he lifts my hand and places it over his heart. “I know what I want, Iwantyou. As for the timing, well. As soon as we’re married, I can sponsor you to get a green card.”

His casual approach makes me angry. “That’s stereotypical, isn’t it? Marry to get citizenship. And even if that was what I wanted, I’ve been deported. And returned illegally. It won’t work, Tse, whether we’re married or not.”

“I’m trying to find a way around that. You weren’t deported legally, Mariana. You didn’t have your day in front of the judge. He tried to get the plane back, but it had already landed.” When I look at him in confusion, he shakes his head. “Forgot, babe. You couldn’t have known what happened. Mix-up? Nah, you were on the wrong transport because someone was bribed to put you there. People paid to divert the plane. When it all went to shit, that’s how we knew something was wrong.”

I’d had my suspicions, but now he’s confirmed it. “My father was behind it?”