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Mandy’s expression hardened, and her eyes widened—never a good sign for a woman.
“It would’ve been nice if you asked instead of telling me, but even if you had, the answer would’ve been a definite no. I have no intentions of moving in with you or being an old lady—whatever that means.”
“It means I’d claim you.”
“Claim me?” Mamba’s eardrums stung from the pitch of Mandy’s voice. “I don’t think I want to know what that means.”
“You’d be with me. I’d take care of you, and you’d have the Serpents’ protection.”
Her eyes grew larger, and he guessed that wasn’t the explanation she wanted.
“Well, thank you very much, but I don’t need anyone taking care of me or protecting me. I’m good.”
“So where you goin’ when you get outta here? Please don’t tell me you’re going back to Ajax.”
“I’m going to stay with Mitzi until I find my own place.”
“So, you’re turning me down?”
“As wonderful as that offer sounds.” Sarcasm dripped off every word. “Yes, I’m turning you down.”
Mamba snorted, then drew in a few quick breaths. He wanted to start tossing shit across the room, but he didn’t think that would sell his case for non-violence.
The door creaked, and a nurse entered the room. “Is everything all right in here?” She directed the question at Mamba as she examined his cut, patches, tats, and bloody bandage.
“Please leave.” Mandy tried to make it sound like an order, but he heard her voice quiver and noticed how she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Just let me—”
The nurse stepped in front of Mamba, her hands on her ample hips. “Sir, I believe she asked you to leave.”
“Yeah, I’m goin’.” He looked over the nurse's shoulder. “But I’m not giving up.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Mamba pushed through the doors of the Gold Mine just as his brothers were heading to the back room where they held church. He filed in, took his regular seat at the far end of the long table, and wiped his brow. Vegas heat usually didn’t bother him, but today he felt like he was cooking from the inside out.
Python took the seat next to him. “How’d it go with Mandy?”
“It didn’t. She’s all twisted up.”
“Probably for the best, man. She comes with a lot of baggage.”
“Says the man who had a bookie on his ass for the better part of five years.”
“I’m just sayin’—”
“Save it.”
Python didn’t get it. For that matter, neither did Mamba. They’d been so in sync down in Searchlight. The connection they had was real, and now she flipped the script.
Cobra took his place at the head of the table and wasted no time slamming down the gavel, silencing everyone. “First off, how’s Mandy doin’?”
All eyes fell on Mamba, and their unsettled conversation in the hospital made him sweat harder.
“She’s doin’ good, should be released later today.” His generic answer gave away nothing.
“It’s no secret that you two are together. I think it’s a mistake, but I also didn’t think Rattler getting with some Hollywood starlet was a good idea either, and they seem to be making it work.”
