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same honeyed tone as hers, and a grizzled mustache and beard covered most of his tanned face. He looked like a scruffier version of Thor, but somehow, that made him even sexier.
    “We’ll talk about it later,” Jesse said dismissively. But his friend didn’t seem satisfied.
    “When?” he asked, pulling a Marlboro from behind his ear. “We’ve been puttin’ it off all the while you were gone. Don’t you think we should—”
    “I said later, Gunner,” Jesse said in a tone that quieted the rest of the room.
    Gunner stared at him, his predatory eyes locked onto Jesse’s as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth. He lit it between his lips and crushed the filter as he slowly smiled.
    “You got it,” he said, each word issuing a plume of smoke. “ Boss. ” Then he set his sights on Layla. “This your new bitch?”
    “ New bitch? ” she snapped, looking him up and down. “Afraid somebody’s gonna take your spot?”
    “Well, look at that,” Gunner said, running his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. “Kitty’s got claws.”
    “Enough,” Jesse said, brushing Layla behind him with a sweep of his arm. She stumbled and grabbed onto his jacket to keep from being toppled over by the momentum. “She’s here as my guest. Whether she decides to stick around is up to her.” He stepped closer to Gunner until he was almost touching the bright orange cherry of his lit cigarette. “But I hear you callin’ her a bitch again, I’ll make you swallow that cigarette. And I won’t put it out first. We clear?”
    “Crystal, birthday boy,” Gunner replied, blowing another puff of smoke into Jesse’s face before turning his back on him. He shot one more look at Layla, smirked, and stalked back into the shadows.
    “Sorry,” Jesse said as he turned around to face her. “Looks like some things have gotten outta hand while I was gone.”
    “Guess so,” Layla agreed, her eyes glued to Gunner’s retreating form. “What’d he mean about small time stuff?”
    “That’s somethin’ you don’t have to worry about,” he answered grimly. “Not tonight, anyway. C’mon, lemme introduce you to the rest of the gang.”
    Jesse made the rounds with Layla by his side. In addition to Camel, Gunner, and Bear, she also met Gordo, a portly Mexican who was responsible for acting as an emissary between the Marauders and the Hispanic clubs in the area, and Hollywood, who looked like he belonged on Malibu beach with a surf board in one hand and a joint in the other.
    They were all nice enough to her, but Layla still felt out of place. She’d expected something different—a little less gritty. They were running a chop shop out of the Mirage in order to eke out an existence. Most of them didn’t have family to speak of, or if they did, it still wasn’t something they wanted to discuss. The Marauders weren’t just playing at rebellion, she realized. They were trying to survive.
    “Culture shock?” Jesse asked after the meet-and-greet was over.
    “A little,” Layla admitted, shifting uncomfortably as she leaned against the wall. “How’d you get mixed up in all this? I mean, some of this stuff has got to be a felony. You’re just a kid.”
    Jesse chuckled softly and took off his shades, revealing his glittering eyes.
    “I haven’t been a kid since I was five years old, beauty queen,” he said, but before Layla could ask him what he meant by that, she heard the peal of a dinner bell being struck.
    “Food!” Bear howled from the back. “Get your asses over here!”
    “Whaddya say, Layla?” Jesse asked, grinning wide as he opened the door. “Can I treat you to dinner?”
    “Fine,” she agreed, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “But after that, I wanna go home, okay?”
    Jesse’s face fell, but he compensated quickly by returning his shades to their place over his eyes.
    “Sure, beauty queen. Whatever you say.”
     
    It was surreal watching the gang sing “Happy Birthday” to Jesse over beef stew