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“Love that you’re looking, babe.” He went back into the galley and pulled away part of the countertop to reveal a grill. “Nothing fancy, but how about a hamburger or hot dog? I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”
* * *
“This is really good.” Mandy smiled around a mouthful of her cheeseburger. “The cage fighting biker can cook, who knew.”
“Got lots of talents, babe. You’ve only seen a few.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she laughed as she munched on their side dish of potato chips.
Seeing Mandy relax and let down her guard allowed Mamba to observe the carefree side of her, the part that liked to have fun and wasn’t afraid of her brother’s wrath.
She ran her hand over the soft leather seat in the galley. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more to the story of how you got this boat.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He scrambled to come up with a plausible lie, then figured he might as well go with the truth if he wanted whatever they had to go somewhere.
“Tell me.”
“Right after I got with the Serpents, I was hitting the top spots in underground fighting, but like anything illegal, it attracts shady people. Some of the guys who promote and run the fights are connected.”
“You mean like the mob?”
“They say the mob isn’t in Vegas anymore, but I don’t think the guys over at the Valley View warehouse got the memo. They all look like a bunch of New York hoods, or they’re doing a very good imitation of some Brooklyn wise guys.” Mamba popped another chip in his mouth. “Anyway, one night I win a real big fight. Huge purse, lots of money supposed to be paid off—only one problem, the guy backing the loser can’t come up with enough cash for my side of the payoff. The guys running the fight don’t want any problems, so they make sure the New York crew is paid first. Then while they’re whacking the guy around in the back alley, he claims he has this boat in an Arizona marina and that it’s theirs if they’ll stop beating the shit out of him.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No shit, babe, true story. The New York guys got no use for a boat in Arizona, so they grabbed all the cash and gave me the boat.”
“Amazing. You should write a book.”
“I’m shit-poor at spelling, but yeah, it’s a fuckin’ great story and all true.”
“There’s a lot of money to be made at those fights. That’s why the Marauders are involved.”
“Right. Same with this New York guy, Samson. He and his partner knew Joker, our VP, from back in the day when he was throwing his fists in basements around Chinatown.”
“That guy Samson is a little scary. He looks like he belongs in a gangster movie.”
“I hear you, but he’s been fair, and if it weren’t for me being shipped outta Vegas, we wouldn’t have had today.”
Mandy reached across the small table and traced her finger over the snake tattoo winding up his forearm. The same tattoo all the Serpents had.
“I know you miss your club.”
“Only family I ever had, but I managed to screw it up.”
“Because of me?”
“Nah, even before you came along, I would take crazy chances. If it weren’t you, it would’ve been something else.” Her phone buzzed with a message, which she read and quickly swiped away.
“Everything all right?” Mamba didn’t like the look covering her face.
She intertwined her fingers with his. “Thank you for the best day ever.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Three weeks later, Mamba was still fighting in Searchlight. He worked out in the gym daily and cut back on his drinking and smoking. Even his sparring partner was impressed.
Mandy’s visits made him feel less like a prisoner cast out by his club and more like a guy on an extended vacation. They made weekly trips to the marina, where he taught Mandy the finer points of operating the boat, and she loved every minute, especially getting behind the wheel and driving through the crystal clear lake.
Mandy.
