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PROLOGUE
“Another good night.” Rattler clapped Mamba on the shoulder as they entered the Gold Mine. “You were fierce in the cage tonight. Fuck, I like to throw my fists, but you were relentless. Time to celebrate.”
Mamba accepted the compliment with a nod because Rattler could never comprehend how fighting gave him purpose and made him feel alive—fighting and the high afterward gave him a few blessed hours when he didn’t have a nagging in his gut.
The place was hopping, music pounding, club girls serving drinks at the tables, and everyone was ready to enjoy his win. They slid into their usual seats at the bar, and the prospect immediately set up shots of Jack. Cobra flanked him on the other side. “Here’s to another win.” They shot the whiskey, then Cobra’s face sobered. “No bullshit, I’m proud of you. Not just for being the big winner, but for getting your head straight and staying the fuck outta trouble.”
Mamba nodded again because the right words wouldn’t come. Truth, he’d been committed to getting his life in order and making changes, but it stung deep the woman who made him see a better side of himself wasn’t with him—and would never be with him.
“That sucker didn’t have a chance,” Boa added. “He was thinking about tapping out five minutes after the cage door slammed.”
“Shit, I had to protect him from all the women,” Rattler gripped his shoulder. “Crazy shit, he could barely get out of the locker room before they were all over him—wanting him to sign their tits, shoving their panties in his pocket.”
“Maybe I should tell Serafina how much you enjoyed it too.” Mamba teased.
Rattler threw Mamba a shitty grin. “Now I think it’s time for the big winner to celebrate his victory in style.”
That could only mean one thing. Over the last few months, the Serpents made it their mission to push him with every stripper, club girl, and hanger-on within a twenty-mile radius.
“Yep, that’s right,” Python chimed in as he filled his shot glass. “Drink up, then shut up and get your ass upstairs.”
“It’s your fifth win in as many weeks,” Boa added. “Time to kick back and enjoy it, brother.”
Mamba heaved out a sigh. Most times, he shoved some cash in the women’s palms and sent them on their way. His brothers’ matchmaking was starting to get expensive. For him, not them.
Python slung a beefy arm around his shoulder. “Just hired a new dancer at Ecstasy. She hasn’t even been on stage yet, and she’s upstairs waiting for you.”
“A real hot brunette with a fuckin’ smokin’ body. . . let’s just say,” Python jerked his thumb at Rattler. “I thought this asshole was gonna come in his jeans the first time he saw her.”
“Fuck you.” Rattler laughed. “Your damn tongue was hanging out like a dog in heat.”
“All right, I get it she’s hot,” Mamba replied, then tipped the glass and finished off his drink.
“She’s fuckin’ hot,” Boa added.
Mamba pushed away from the bar. Only one way to end this—go up to his room, tell the girl he wasn’t interested, and hope she didn’t start throwing shit at his head.
Good times.
He knew they were looking out for him, wanting him to hook up with someone, but Mandy was the only one who took up space in his brain. Mamba had hoped after these last few months, the gnawing in his chest would lessen, but fuck if it hadn’t gotten worse.
He trudged up the stairs, unlocked his door, and entered the living room. A light shone under the door in his bedroom. Shit, it was harder when they were already in his bed. He eased the door open, mentally preparing his speech. He’d turned away so many women lately they were starting to gossip about his dick not working. Big fuckin’ joke on them, all he had to do was think about Mandy, and his hard-on could cut glass.
A strip of light illuminated the empty bed from the adjoining bathroom. Good news, maybe she was still dressed—much easier and quicker to get her ass out.
He flipped on the bedside lamp, making the room much brighter and hopefully killing the mood.
“Hi there.” A soft voice filled the room. Fuckin’ great, now Mamba’s traitorous brain was playing tricks on him because this chick sounded just like Mandy.
He slowly turned, rehearsing his farewell speech in his head, and froze. Fuck, he was losing his shit for sure. Maybe the guy in the cage clocked him than he thought because now he was seeing things—namely Mandy.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” She moved around the bed and stopped in front of him.
His mouth opened, clamped shut, then flopped open again. “Mandy?”
“Are you surprised to see me?”
“Fuckin’ shocked. I mean, I . . .”
