AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mamba ducked under the ropes of the sparring ring and hopped down onto the gym’s rubber flooring. Samson hadn’t been lying. He and whoever his New York partner was dumped a shit-load of money into the bar and called it the KO, short for Knock Out. There was a gym and fight room in one of the property’s outbuildings that included a sparring ring, top-of-the-line machines, and equipment lining the walls. The locker rooms were new so the fighters could shower without the fear of leaving with a communicable disease.
The fight room had professional lighting that didn’t cast eery shadows over the area with genuine bleachers on all four sides—top-shelf all the way. They’d also made inroads with the local cops. Supposedly, handing out comp tickets to the first fight on Friday night, along with free booze and plenty of other perks, was the perfect way to get the badges on your side. Make them part of the action, and make sure to keep a record of it.
They’d even built four rooms for fighters who traveled and needed a place to sack out. Mamba occupied one of the rooms, and although he wasn’t a prisoner anymore, he still needed a place to lay his head. His room boasted a sitting area, a kitchenette he barely used, a separate bedroom, and an attached bathroom. All in all, it was one of the best places he’d ever lived.
Except for his rooms at the Gold Mine.
He missed the camaraderie of being with the Serpents—the trash talk, the bullshitting, and knowing others felt and thought like him. He shared a bond with the club because, like him, most members came from nothing, and the MC served as a lifeline and a place they could all call home.
“Looks like you’re ready for tomorrow night.” Samson spent the early part of the week in Vegas scoping out the details for their nightclub, then he spent the rest of the week at the KO keeping tabs on the fights.
“More than ready.” Mamba was always stoked to fight, but he was also impatient to see Mandy again and have some time alone so they could finally straighten out their shit and move forward. Mamba’s dick twitched at the thought, and he couldn’t blame the greedy sucker.
“Big night. Cobra and the Serpents are coming in too.”
Mamba only nodded as he’d heard the same thing during the week from one of the other fighters. He took it as a sign that maybe his penance was up, and he’d be welcomed back. Although, Mamba knew shit didn’t usually go that smooth, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to ask Samson. For now, he had to take one victory at a time.
He slipped out the back door, and his eyes rested on his most prized possession—his pewter-pearl Dyna Glide. The bike represented his freedom, and not having it for the last four weeks compared to losing an arm or a leg. It was almost as bad as not hanging with his brothers at the Gold Mine. No matter how bad or how low Mamba felt, he could always depend on his Harley. Even a short ride brought him clarity, and nothing compared to opening it up on an empty Nevada highway. The insecurities that taunted him daily fell away, and even throwing his fists couldn’t resemble the peace that washed over him when he rode.
He closed the distance between him and the machine, then lovingly ran his hand over the leather seat and chrome engine. He guessed this was how his brothers felt about their old ladies. Mamba never made a connection like that with a woman or expected that would ever happen for him. He was surprised when Mandy’s innocent face popped into his brain—or maybe it wasn’t such a surprise.
* * *
The fight night proved to be everything they anticipated. The crowd around the cage extended past the bleachers with some pressed up tight to the outside of the cage. They roared and cheered their approval when Mamba laid out his opponent after a torturous game of cat and mouse.
Samson was happy, and so were most of the guys in the first row whom he’d brought in from New York. Heavy hitters who bet big were now enjoying their winnings. On the other side of the cage sat the Serpents. Well, they hadn’t sat—it was more like standing, banging on the cage, and rooting him on to victory. Fuckin’ loyal brothers all the way.
Mamba scanned the room before the fight and now after his victory, squinting against the blaring lights, but no Mandy. He descended the metal stairs leading from the cage and his brothers surrounded him.
“Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Rattler high-fived him.
“You laid that fucker out.” Python cuffed his shoulder.
“Fuckin’ animal in that cage,” Joker said. “Never seen anything like it.”
“That guy didn’t have a chance, brother.” Cobra slung his arm around his shoulders, and Mamba felt at home for the first time in six weeks. He also hadn’t missed Cobra using the term,brother. “Get yourself cleaned up, then meet me in the bar.”
Mamba headed for the locker room and checked his phone, but no text from Mandy. She probably thought better of hooking up with a two-time loser who couldn’t keep his ass out of the joint. He couldn’t blame her, but it put a tilt on the night.
Twenty minutes later, Mamba entered the crowded bar. The throbbing beat of Motley Crüe thumped through his chest. If the rest of the nights were like this one, Samson, the mysterious owner from New York, would be rolling in it.
Mamba zeroed in on Cobra in deep conversation with Samson at the bar, and he headed their way. He tried to concentrate on what he wanted to accomplish, but his brain kept spinning back to Mandy. Why hadn’t she come? Why hadn’t she texted him? It bugged him, but by the night’s end, he’d be wearing his cut and heading back to Vegas, where they could start fresh.
Bebe, a tall redhead who hung around the gym stepped in his path. “Hey, baby, you were great tonight.”
“Thanks.” He side-stepped her, but she moved with him. Bebe was one of the fight bunnies down for anything and unwilling to takenofor an answer.
“I was thinking you could buy me a drink, and then we could work off the rest of that energy in your room.” She curled her lips into what she must’ve thought was sexy, but it made her look like a duck instead. Sure, he liked getting his dick sucked by nice puffy lips, but this woman went beyond overboard with the collagen.
“I gotta talk to a few people.” Mamba hoped she’d take the hint because the last thing he wanted was a scene with a crazy-ass woman.
“You sure about that?” Her hot-pink nails flirted with the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m sure.” He threw her a smirky grin, and she frowned.
“Fine, there’s plenty of other guys who’ll want me.” Bebe squared her shoulders, stuck out her tits, and moved out of his way. Thank fuck.
He made it around the bar without any more encounters until he stood at Cobra’s side.
