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“You can’t leave.”
“I am, and you can’t stop me.”
“What about Achilles? Does Mama know about this?”
“I’ve already discussed it with her, and Mrs. Perkins from down the street has agreed to stay with Achilles when Mama goes to work at night.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s a good neighbor, and she wants to repay Mama for always doing her food shopping and making her dinners.”
He slammed his fist against the arm of the couch. “This is bullshit.”
“It’s only bullshit because you think you’re losing control. Not everyone has an agenda, Ajax, and sometimes people do the right thing because … it’s the right thing.”
He crashed the bottle down, sending beer onto the coffee table. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do.” Mandy snapped her mouth shut, shocking herself with that outburst but proud at the same time.
His bloodshot eyes bugged out, and he pushed off the couch and lunged for her, catching the strap of her duffel and ripping it off her shoulder. The sudden move jarred her as the bag fell to the carpet.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere.” He pointed to the bag. “Now, put that shit back in your room.”
She slowly picked up the bag and hoisted it back on her shoulder. “I’m done living with the violence that surrounds you.” Her even tone punctuated every word.
Ajax staggered around the coffee table, grabbed onto Mandy’s shoulders, and pushed her until her back slammed against the wall.
“You’re not done with shit until I say you’re done.”
He raised his hand, and she struggled against him, twisting her body, but even high and drunk Ajax overpowered her.
* * *
Mandy wasn’t at the nail salon, and Mitzi said she wasn’t at her apartment either. After Mamba refused to leave and threatened to make a scene at the salon, Mitzi gave up Mandy’s home address. It made him happy Mandy had a friend like her, even if she busted his balls.
Mamba cut the bike’s engine at the top of her street and coasted past the small, shabby single-family homes in a not-so-great part of town. Some of the street lights were busted, which worked in his favor since he knew there was a good possibility Ajax might be there too.
His gut clenched when he thought of the slimy bastard—hard to believe Mandy was his sister.
He stopped his bike at the house next to Mandy’s and dropped the kickstand. After unlocking his saddlebag, he pulled out his .45 and stuck it into his waistband, just in case things went sideways and Ajax showed up.
The homes were close together, so it was easy to inch up on her neighbor's property as he made his way to the back of her house. He spied Mandy’s car in the driveway along with another. She lived with her mother, or it could be Ajax’s. A light on in the kitchen and living room probably meant someone was on the first floor, but Mamba wanted to get a better idea of who else was in the house with her.
He crossed the short patch of lawn and stayed close to the house. Yelling filtered through the open kitchen window. A mosquito flew by his eye, and he flinched. Better ratchet down the hair-trigger response.
“I’m done living with the violence that surrounds you.” He heard Mandy’s voice.
“You’re not done with shit until I say you’re done.” That was definitely Ajax.
Mandy yelped, and that was all the invitation Mamba needed. He barreled around the back of the house, up the three wooden steps, and turned the back door’s knob.
Thank fuck it was open because his fevered body didn’t have the strength to boot in a door.
He eased himself into the kitchen, stayed tight to the countertop, then peered through the door leading to the living room. From the reflection of a wall mirror, he made out Ajax’s back caging Mandy against the wall.
Anger boiled up and tightened his chest as he stormed into the room.
“Get the hell away from her,” Mamba bellowed.
