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“Ahhh, and there it is. You’re picking a lowlife, deadbeat biker who makes his money getting bloody in the cage over family.”
“And what about you? Your hands aren’t clean, or do you think I don’t know about the drug dealing and the carjackings? I only keep it a secret because of Mama, but you’re no better, probably worse.”
Ajax’s eyes bugged out, his fists clenched, and for a second, she thought he might strike her, but he spun around and stormed out of the kitchen instead.
Mandy grabbed her phone to text Mamba but changed her mind and called him instead. The phone rang, then went to voicemail, so she went back to texting him.
Call me. Very important.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
The familiar sound of Harley pipes filled the gym. Even over Black Sabbath blasting through the speakers, the roar of throttles amped Mamba up. He stepped back from the speed bag he’d been brutalizing and listened as one by one the engines cut out. Serpents—had to be.
Seconds later, Joker entered the gym’s side door followed by Cobra, Python, Rattler, and Boa. He couldn’t read their expressions as their eyes traveled over the gym and then landed on him. As if on cue, Samson emerged from his office on the other side of the room. He and Cobra did the handshake-back-slap thing; then, all eyes fell back on Mamba. Talk about feeling like a fuckin’ zoo animal.
Samson waved him over, and Mamba nabbed a towel off the bench, wiping away his sweat as he closed the distance between them.
“Need to talk,” Cobra said the three words like they explained the unexpected visit.
He followed Cobra and Joker into the office, barely accommodating three bikers while the others waited in the gym. Joker closed the door behind them, and the music quieted to a dull pounding.
Cobra’s eyes raked over Mamba’s bare chest and nylon gym shorts. “Never seen you this ripped.”
“Nothing much else to do but workout. Kinda like a prison with imaginary bars.” Mamba didn’t bother covering the sarcastic lilt in his voice.
“That’s not exactly true, is it?” Cobra returned with his brand of sarcasm.
Mamba spread his arms wide. “This is it. The gym, my room on the other side of the building, and riding my Harley in the desert.”
“Right. I understand you’ve been going as far as Arizona.”
Mamba tightened his grip on the towel but continued to stare at Cobra, expressionless.
“And you haven’t been alone.”
“Seems like you know more about me than I do.”
Joker stepped forward. “Cut the bullshit, and tell us what we wanna know.”
“You never did have Cobra’s patience.” Mamba smirked at Joker. “Guess that’s why you’re only VP.”
“Well, the wiseass hasn’t been knocked outta him yet,” Joker said to Cobra like Mamba wasn’t in the room. Fuckin’ pissed him off.
Cobra rested his hip on the side of the desk. “Had an interesting visit from Ajax yesterday. You remember him, the punk Marauder whose sister you were trying to hit on?”
Mamba returned his pseudo question with a blank stare. Let him work for it.
“He was pretty upset, saying that his sister’s been coming down here to Searchlight for the last month.”
“Really?”
When Joker’s eyes narrowed, Mamba couldn’t contain his smirk. He was tired of being treated like a disobedient dog. He was also tired of being held like a puppet on a string. If they were gonna cut him loose, just do it.
“You know anything about that?”
“Yep. Mandy’s been coming here three days a week for at least a month. She’s been sharing my bed, and we’ve been taking trips to a marina in Arizona where I keep the boat I won as a consolation prize.” Mamba tilted his head. “You remember that fight, right? The one where the guy couldn’t pay up, and everyone got a nice pocket of cash but me? But fuck, I ain’t complaining. I got me a cabin cruiser and a nice place to spend the afternoons with Mandy.”
“So you admit you’re seeing her?” Cobra always had to make a point.
