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“Yeah, okay. I’m on my way back to the clubhouse.”
“Good, I’ll check all this out and get back to you first thing in the morning.”
He swiped the call away, slipped on his fingerless gloves, lifted the kickstand, pulled out onto Charleston, and stopped at the light. A left at the corner of Las Vegas Blvd. would take him back to the clubhouse. A right would take him downtown to the area surrounding Fremont Street. Marauder territory.
The light turned green, Mamba hit the throttle and turned . . . left. He drove half a mile, fighting off the urge to wheel into the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel and turn around. Maybe he was finally seeing what his parole officer meant by making good choices.
CHAPTERTHREE
Mandy entered the back door of the small house on Orchard Street, where she lived with her mother and two brothers. The entire ride home from the salon, she tried to calm herself after Mamba’s surprise visit, but her insides still roiled, and her head spun with questions and guilt. He seemed so desperate, and in his way, as frightened as her. He seemed almost—
“Miranda?” Ajax called from the living room.
She hung her purse on the kitchen chair and watched as Ajax lifted Achilles from the couch to his wheelchair. Over two years and she still wasn’t used to seeing her big, strong brother needing help from others.
“Mama left food in the fridge for you.” Ajax joined her in the kitchen. “I’m going out for a while.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger, angled her face toward the light, and she flinched. “Still tender?”
“Not really.” She swallowed down what she really wanted to say.
“Ya know Blaze, he loses it sometimes, but he don’t mean nothing by it.”
“Right.” Mandy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming at the brother who helped put food on the table yet excused one of his gang buddies’ barbaric behavior.
Ajax stroked her cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to go down this way, but he couldn’t take seeing you with that Serpent. He still thinks you’re his.”
“I’ve made it clear more than once we’re over, but—”
“Hey, I know, and believe me, I gave him a beat down for putting hands on you.”
“So much violence all the time.” Her brother’s world revolved around imagined disrespect and owning the territory in the downtown area, neither of which Mandy cared about.
“Look at it this way. Your banged-up face got that bastard jailed, and with his record and your testimony, he’ll probably never see the light of day.” Ajax knocked his knuckles against the countertop. “'Cause the two years he went away was no way long enough for doin’ that.” He jerked his thumb to Achilles, staring blankly at the TV in the living room.
Mandy blinked hard to squelch the tears and the mounting frustration over her brother’s twisted logic. She wanted to tell him violence was never the answer, or how violence bred more violence, but Ajax would never understand her feelings. Of course, she hated that Achilles was in a wheelchair for life with the mentality of a five-year-old, but he knew the chances when he stepped into the cage. The fights were unsanctioned, brutal, and savage. He knew the risks—they all did.
Two years ago, yet it was as clear as this morning’s breakfast. She’d pleaded with Achilles not to fight that night, especially after seeing his opponent was Mamba. They equaled each other in size, but Mamba’s undefeated record was a legend in the underground world.
Unbeknownst to Ajax, Mandy had scoped out Mamba before the fateful fight with Achilles. Something about his rough good looks drew her in. She’d tracked his fight record, followed him on social media, and even gossiped about him with some of the girls at the nail salon. It seemed the edgy member of the Serpents MC had a following both in and out of the ring, and although he was much too old for her, she secretly stalked him like a teenager with a crush. And like all crushes, he invaded her thoughts, quickly becoming her number one fantasy.
Embarrassing but true.
At the time, attending the fights seemed exciting and daring, and it was the only time Ajax relaxed his strict rules where Mandy was concerned. Then after Achilles’ injuries, she hated anything fight-related, but she never fully blamed Mamba for what happened. She couldn’t accuse him of something that wasn’t his fault, plus he’d gone to prison. Wasn’t that punishment enough?
“And eat.” Ajax pointed to her waist. “You’re too skinny.”
Miranda opened the refrigerator and stared blindly at the foil-wrapped dishes. “You sound like, Mama.”
Normally, Ajax monitored her every move, but last week, he’d encouraged her to dress up, join him at the Rook, and have some fun. She’d even splurged on a new dress from Macy’s, and for once, Ajax didn’t insist the dress was too short or tight. Then Ajax let her in on his real plan. At first, she refused to go along with it, but he played on her guilt and anger, reminding her how Mamba destroyed their once headstrong, tough older brother.
Ajax ruffled her hair, dragging her out of her ongoing inner conflict. “Mama has the late shift. She won’t be home till midnight.” Ajax pointed to the deadbolt. “Don’t forget to lock up.”
“Where are you going?” Her gaze flitted to the clock over the stove.
“Out, little sister.” He flashed his signature smirk that had all the neighborhood girls dropping at his feet. So many times, she’d turned a blind eye when it came to Ajax and the Marauders. She’d even lied to their mother for him because she didn’t want her to worry. Ajax condoned what he and the Marauders did by raving, “If you want something, you have to take it.” Mandy didn’t agree with him, but she couldn’t deny life had dealt them a bad hand.
“Nothing you need to know.” The back door slamming ate up his words.
She closed the refrigerator without removing anything because her stomach was still twisted from her encounter with Mamba. She pressed her palms against the cool Formica countertop, hoping to squelch the heat surrounding her neck at the very thought of Ajax knowing she’d seen him earlier. Then the heat traveled lower as she remembered how Mamba cupped her neck when he kissed her at the Rook.
