Abe (Marked Skulls MC Book 3)

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Abe (Marked Skulls MC Book 3) Page 1

by Savannah Rylan




  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  More Books by Savannah Rylan

  Mailing List

  About Savannah Rylan

  Copyright © 2018 by Savannah Rylan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Abe

  Marked Skulls MC

  Book Three

  By Savannah Rylan

  Chapter 1

  Abe

  Lila and Jordan had taken care of my gunshot wound, and after I left Jordan’s apartment, I took off the sling she had tied my arm in. I straightened my fingers, feeling my knuckles crack and my muscles ache. The only way to heal a wound like this was by pushing through the pain.

  The girls had insisted that I keep the sling on; something about not putting too much pressure on the wound in my shoulder. But I didn’t want to turn up at Vanity’s apartment in bandages.

  It was the middle of the night, and I waved goodbye to Lila and Girth who got on his bike and rode away. When I moved my arms to get a grip on the accelerator, I felt a current of pain shoot up and down my spine. I pushed through it, clutching the gear tightly with my gloved hands. Getting shot was collateral damage in the life I had chosen for myself. My body would heal on its own, I didn’t need to keep an arm in a sling along the way.

  I rode towards Vanity’s apartment. I wasn’t sure if she would be back from her shift at the strip club yet. It wasn’t that kinda relationship. It wasn’t like we texted each other all day and updated each other on our whereabouts.

  I’d been fucking her for almost three months now, ever since her first night at the strip club when I paid her triple the amount she was supposed to charge for a private dance. She was a voluptuous blond with a tiny waist and she screamed loudly when I fucked her doggy-style.

  I didn’t know how many other guys she was fucking, and I didn’t want to know. I didn’t ask her any questions, just like she asked me none either. It was a relationship of mutual understanding, it worked for me and I had every intention of keeping it that way.

  After fights and being in the middle of a shootout like the one we were in, to extract vengeance for Fred’s death—I was in the mood for a good fuck. I could have gone back to the strip club or picked up one of the groupies who hung around our bar, T-Bone; but Vanity was quickly turning into a habit. I knew I could fall asleep at her apartment and in the morning, she wouldn’t expect me to have breakfast with her.

  It was a good fight. The bald fucker who had shot and killed Fred was now dead, our MC had got its revenge and the rest of my brothers were celebrating. I, on the other hand, had an itch in the pit of my stomach for more. How much longer were we going to remain the underdogs?

  We were a small MC; our main business had been counterfeit alcohol and stolen goods. We had always stayed out of the territory of other bigger MCs like The Dark Legion and The Hell’s Drifters…we didn’t get ourselves involved in drugs and the weapons trade because we didn’t have the manpower to handle the rain of fire that we’d receive from the other MCs.

  But I was itching for more. This shootout had given me a taste for victory, it got my adrenaline pumping and I wanted that brain-numbing feeling of taking a risk. Of not knowing if I’d get out of a fight dead or alive. Our MC needed to push our imaginary boundaries.

  I parked my bike outside Vanity’s apartment building and I took the steps two-at a time up. I had been ignoring the throbbing wound in my shoulder, so that now, the ache had become a part of me, another one of my old habits.

  I rapped on her door loudly, hoping that she was back. I could already feel my cock moving in my jeans. It needed to be inside a warm tight pussy right now.

  Vanity opened the door a few seconds later. It seemed like she hadn’t changed out of her work clothes yet. She was in her usual fishnet stockings and the red leather skirt and the matching bikini top she usually wore at the club, before she started stripping them off.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in a snappy voice, just cracking the door open an inch. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open.

  “What the fuck do you think?” I growled and stepped into her dimly lit apartment. She stumbled away from the door and looked nervously over her shoulder. I followed her gaze to the small living room at the end of the corridor and I knew instantly what was going on. She’d brought a customer back to her place.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her juicy breasts. I clenched my jaws, narrowing my eyes at her. Her makeup was caked thick on her face, her eyelashes were dark and unnaturally long.

  I strode into the living room, to find a guy in a shirt and tie, sitting on her dusty old couch.

  “Get out,” I growled at him and he jumped off the couch. He looked like a banker or a salesperson or something like that; someone who sat at a computer all day and somehow made loads of money without risking his life once.

  “Abe, what the actual fuck? You can’t just come in here like this!” Vanity had followed me into the living room while I strode over to the guy. He splayed his hands over his face in defense, thinking that I was going to punch him. I wasn’t, he wasn’t even putting up a fight. What good was that going to do?

  “Get the fuck out!” I growled at him again, our faces just inches away.

  “Okay, yeah, I’m gone,” he mumbled and picking up his jacket from the couch, he scurried out of the living room and Vanity chased after him.

  I clenched my fists as I stood in the room. I could hear her high-pitched voice as she followed him to the door.

  “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting him to come over. I’m so sorry. Will I see you again?”

  The guy wasn’t replying to her, clearly he was scared shitless.

  I heard the door open and close and then the clicking sound of Vanity’s heels as she walked back down the corridor.

  “Why would you do that?” she hissed, placing her hands on her hips.

  “I thought you didn’t bring clients back to your place. Isn’t that what you told me?” I asked, running a hand through my closely cropped hair. Vanity rolled her eyes.

  “You know what he does? Some stock market shit, makes like ten-thousand dollars a day. If he wants to come back to my place, I’m going to bring him back. What do you care anyway?” she asked and walked over to the couch and started fluffing up the pillows.

  I followed her every movement with my eyes. Her ass always looked so good in that tight leather skirt, her legs were long and bulky. My cock was still moving in my jeans but now, suddenly, my interest was fading. I hadn’t realized how tired I actually was.

  “I don’t care but I don’t want to come in here and see you with another bastard, jus
t minutes before I’m going to fuck you,” I said through clenched teeth and she bit down on her bottom lip and stepped towards me.

  “Why, Abe? Are you in love with me or something?” she asked, in a sugary sweet voice and she stretched her hands out to my cock. I felt her palm cup my throbbing cock and I breathed in sharply. Then, I yanked myself away from her.

  “You’ve fucking lost your mind,” I growled and I started walking out of the living room.

  “Are you serious? You’re going to leave now? After you threw out that guy?” Vanity was following me, shrieking at the top of her voice. I kept walking. Her voice was becoming increasingly annoying in my ears.

  “You are such a dick, Abe! Why did you come here if you were going to leave without fucking me? You’ve been fucking me for months now, and you’re too pussy to admit that we could actually become a thing. Like girlfriend and boyfriend,” Vanity continued screaming, and I opened the door.

  “Just shut the fuck up,” I growled, before I stepped out of the door. I heard a glass crash against the door, which she had aimed at my head but missed by like a second.

  With my jaws clenched, I went down the stairs to my bike again. She had completely ruined my erection, with all this talk about love and being in a relationship. I thought the reason it was working with her was because she never brought this shit up.

  I got on my bike and rode towards my own house. I’d just have to jerk off instead tonight. I wasn’t in the mood to go looking for some other woman to fuck either. It was a better idea to be alone tonight.

  Chapter 2

  Alexis

  I jiggled the key in the lock and pushed the door open to find our apartment empty. “Fuck you, Oz!” I cursed in the darkness and banged the door shut behind me.

  I’d taken the last shift at the supermarket and returned with a bag of frozen dinner for two, but my brother hadn’t returned home yet.

  Sighing, I switched the lights on in the apartment one by one and went into the kitchen. I hadn’t changed out of my uniform yet, and feeling annoyed, I pulled my name-tag off the front of my blouse and threw it on the kitchen table.

  It was nine. Oz had promised me that he would be back home by now, before I got done with my shift and once again, he hadn’t stuck to his word. I shook my head, muttering under my breath as I turned on the oven and popped in the two dinners in their plastic containers. I was a fool to think that things could start changing around here.

  I looked at the clock again, time was creeping slowly by and there was still no sign of my brother. I didn’t have any idea where he was. He didn’t give me any information on who he hung out with these days. I just hoped that it wasn’t the Romano boys, because they were always up to no good.

  I needed Oz to focus. He was young, just twenty years old and he had his entire life ahead of him. If I could just keep him off the streets, just keep him out of the company of the Romanos…if I could just convince him to take up a course at Community College; my hope was that he could get a real job. That he could get himself out of this shit-hole of a neighborhood. I had all my hopes and dreams pegged on him.

  I sat down at the kitchen table, trying hard to not open the cabinet and pour myself some rum in a glass. The last thing I needed was to get myself hooked on alcohol the way mom had done. I knew first-hand what the consequences of an addiction like that was. She hadn’t been able to raise Oz, it had been my responsibility. And as a result, I couldn’t go to college…I was stuck here, in this cramped apartment; looking after mom and my little brother.

  I needed Oz to understand that all I wanted for him was a better life, a better life than our parents and a better life than I had in store for me. It was too late for me to make something of myself, but it wasn’t too late for Oz.

  I heard another set of keys jiggling in the door and I looked up at the clock again. It was nine-thirty.

  Jumping up from the chair, I rushed to the door to find Oz entering the apartment. I could sense that he was purposely keeping his back turned to me, and without saying a word, he was trying to make a smooth exit to his room.

  “You were supposed to be home an hour ago, Oz!” I hissed at him, crossing my arms over my breasts. He breathed in deeply and turned to me slowly.

  “I got caught up with something,” my brother said and I saw his split lip, the trail of blood dribbling from his bottom lip and down his neck. He’d been in a fight.

  “For God’s Sake, Oz!” I yelped, rushing to him and he gently pushed me away.

  “I just need to wash my face,” he protested and walked towards the bathroom. I followed him, feeling a rising sense of worry in my chest.

  “You were with them again, weren’t you? The Romano boys! What did you do this time? Throw a rock through a gas station window? For the sake of a few chocolate bars and cans of beer?” I yelled after him.

  He tried to shut the bathroom door behind him, but I pushed it open and followed him in. Our bathroom was small, too small for the two of us and Oz kept his eyes averted from me while he splashed water on his face.

  “Talk to me, Oz! Will you just talk to me?” I screamed and he clenched his jaws and looked at me in the mirror.

  “What do you want me to say, sis? Yeah, I was with the Romanos. We got into a small fight, I took a punch…so fucking what?” Oz growled and I shook my head, with my nostrils flared.

  “So what? So that means that you’re spiraling out of my control!”

  “So why are you trying to control me? You’re not my mother!” Oz shouted back, pulling the hand towel off the rail and leaving faint blotches of blood on it as he wiped his face.

  I felt a cry rising up in my throat and I turned from him and stormed out of the bathroom. Oz followed me to the kitchen.

  “Okay, sis, I didn’t mean that. I know how much you’ve done for me. I know you’ve been a mother and father to me all my life, because mom was…she was useless at it. But…sis…please, will you just fucking hear me out?” Oz was trying to calm me down while I paced around the kitchen with my face in my hands.

  “This is crazy. We need to move out of this neighborhood. You need to be in a class somewhere, Oz. You need to get yourself an education, make up for lost time,” I was mumbling, more to myself than speaking to him.

  Oz walked up to me, grabbing me by my arms and I noticed how strong he’d gotten. He was in the habit of wearing tight t-shirts these days and his tattooed biceps bulged. He shook me lightly.

  “Alexis! Just calm the fuck down. We’re not going anywhere! This is our neighborhood! This is where we grew up!” he growled and I yanked myself away from him.

  “And that is exactly what’s wrong with us! That’s what killed dad and got mom drinking, and we need to get out of here. Why don’t you see that? Why don’t you want a better life than this?” I screamed and I could feel my eyes watering.

  Oz shook his head as he watched me.

  “What better life? You mean some life in Philadelphia or New Haven? Living in a red-brick house with a white picket fence? Having a boring nine to five job and saving for a fucking mortgage? What kind of life is that?” he asked and I scrunched up my face to stop the tears from pouring and I looked away from him.

  That life was a distant dream. Away from this neighborhood. Away from worrying everyday if my brother was going to get back home safe and sound.

  “That is a safe life, Oz. That is the life you deserve, what I’ve been working towards, why I wanted you to stay in school!” I snapped at him and he rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

  “You know what your problem is, sis? That you think you’re still responsible for me. I’m an adult, just like you. I can make my own decisions. Just like you. And my decision is to stay here, to do what I want to do,” Oz said and I grunted sarcastically.

  “You are barely an adult and all your decisions are poor and self-harming. If I wasn’t in your life, holding you back…you’d be dead in a ditch somewhere already,” I snapped and immediately regretted my words.<
br />
  Oz shook his head and then he turned from me and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone again. The timer on the oven went off and its beeps filled the apartment.

  “Shit! Fuck!” I cursed, pulling the containers out of the oven, and scalding my fingers in the process.

  Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, I pressed my eyes closed and breathed out a sigh. I was frustrated, I was feeling helpless. The more I lectured Oz, the more we got into these fights…the more I was pushing him away. But I didn’t know how else to make him see reason, to see what I was seeing…that he was headed towards destruction. That I loved him, that I wanted to protect him from the kind of life that dad had led; which got him killed.

  I could hear him moving around in his room, and then the sound of blasting metal music filled the apartment.

  I sat down at the table and started eating the dinner by myself—tasteless and nutrition-less. I was tired of never having enough money, I was tired of worrying for Oz, I was tired of dreaming of a better life. But I wasn’t giving up either. I wasn’t giving up on my brother yet.

  Chapter 3

  Abe

  When I walked into T-Bone the next morning for Church, a huge roar of congratulations rung out. The guys were clapping for Girth, Rodeo and me for taking out the man who had killed our brother Fred. I was in the mood for a celebration too. That bald motherfucker was dead and Fred’s killing was justly avenged. I knew Rodeo was deeply affected, but he was relieved too. At least now our brother Fred could rest in peace.

  It was time for breakfast, but shots of whisky were being passed around and even Lewis, our President, was in the mood to celebrate. He had been pretty rowdy and upset since the death of Fred, who had been his closest friend.

  Jordan and Lila were there too, and we all cheered and gulped down our whiskeys and most of them asked for more. I didn’t want to start drinking yet, I had something to discuss with the MC and I wanted to be alert for that conversation because I knew it wasn’t going to go down very well with the others.

 

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