Page 57 of Traitor

I let out a slow breath and lean against the bar, playing it cool. "Rule number one: Don't piss off a good woman. She'll get her revenge one way or another."

Pops narrows his eyes.

I push off the bar and motion toward my office. No way I'm putting on a full-blown show for my brothers. We make our way there, and the second the door slams shut, he goes straight for the jugular.

"Your mama is furious."

My stomach drops. "Fuck."

Pops grins. "Yeah, you're done for. You know what that means, don't you?"

"I'm about to die," I mutter.

"Oh yeah. She put on her war gear. Red leather pants, a whole damn bandana. Had to stop for gas for her bike before getting here, but she's coming, boy."

I scrub a hand down my face. "You two never even met Ely in person because you weretoo busytraveling the world on your so-called second honeymoon. What the hell are you so pissed about?"

Pops scoffs. "Ghost called me. Layla called me. Tank called me. Reaper, Grizz, all of 'em. They complained. A lot. Gave me a shit-ass headache. Apparently, this ain't a biker club anymore, it's a therapy support group'cause our Prez lost his goddamn mind." He throws up air quotes, dragging out the words in a whiny imitation that makes me want to punch something.

Those fuckers snitched.

I swear, there will be hell to pay.

Pops shakes his head. "And another thing: you might have only introduced us to Ely that one time on video call, but your mama kept in touch with her. They talked. Quite a few times."

I blink. "What?"

Pops smirks. "Layla gave your mama Ely's number, and they had themselves 'virtual' baking sessions while you fuckers were in church. Sometimes it was just Ely and your mama. Sometimes Layla or other old ladies were there, too. Your mama was smitten with Ely. Now? She's furious. You hurt that girl. Deep. And your mama don't like when good people get hurt."

I drop my head back. "Shiiiit."

Pops crosses his arms. "She's mad as hell at you, boy. And you got the feds on your back because of your own stupidity. Good job."

"I handled the feds. Nothing unfixable happened. The Romanos are still solid. We moved our stock. They found jack shit," I say evenly.

Pops lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You were always brilliant at club business, Kane. But apparently, you're a fucking idiot when it comes to women! And it's affecting the club. It's made me wonder if I left too early."

Before I can respond, there's a loud knock. No. A violent bang.

The door flies open, slamming into the wall, and there she is.

Mama.

And I have never feared for my life more.

She steps in, closing the door behind her. Her glare is like a goddamn sniper shot.

"Kane," she says, low and lethal. More terrifying than if she'd screamed.

Fuck. This is bad. Really bad.

"What have you done to Ely?" she demands. "Tell me you brought her back. Tell me you apologized on your forking knees!"

I wince and immediately defend myself. "Mama, she gave the feds information on us."

Mama folds her arms, eyes burning into me. "Good for her. Where is she? Her number's not working."

I hang my head. "I don't know."

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