Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5

by Savannah Rylan

  “Sutton, just wanted to see if you… were…”

  I furrowed my brow when I saw the bed tousled the way it was. Because it looked empty.

  “Sutton?” I asked.

  The light was still on in both the main room and the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and walked over to the bed, ripping the sheets off it.

  “Sutton!” I exclaimed.

  I rushed over to the bathroom and dipped my head into it, but she wasn’t there. The shower wasn’t wet. The sink wasn’t wet, either. I glanced around the room, taking stock of the pile of women’s clothes in the bottom of the closet. I took stock of the shoes scattered on the other side of the room. Then, my eyes found it.

  The empty bedside table where her burner phone no longer was.

  I didn’t even see her fucking purse.

  “Sutton!” I roared.

  I charged out of the room and barreled down the hallway. The guys must’ve heard me calling out, because half of them were already out of their seats.

  “Sutton!” I exclaimed.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Settle down. Cage, what’s going on?” Diesel asked.

  “Sutton! Where are you!?” I yelled.

  A pair of hands came down on my chest and another on my shoulders. I was pressed down into a chair that magically appeared behind me while Diesel started giving instructions. Footsteps fell behind me, men scrambling around me. The front door was thrown open before some of the guys yelled her name outside.

  It wasn’t until Diesel crouched in front of me that I found my voice.

  “She’s not in the room, is she?” he asked.

  “We agreed we’d be safer together,” I said, swallowing hard.

  “I don’t think she’s been taken,” Ryker said.

  “Nothing looks disturbed, knocked over, or broken,” Toxin said.

  “I’ve got footprints at the side of the house!” Saint exclaimed.

  I went to scramble out of my chair, but Diesel caught me before I could stand. His hands pressed down onto my shoulders, lowering me back into the chair. I felt myself panicking. It was becoming hard to breathe. And as the guys slowly filtered back inside, wrapping around me in a double ring, dread filled my veins.

  “If he finds her before I can—”

  “Nothing is going to happen to her. Okay? Not on our watch,” Rock said.

  “I need you to calm down, Cage,” Diesel said.

  “It’s been—I’m so—”

  My eyes watered in front of all those guys before I slowly closed them.

  “Dad,” I whispered.

  “Get the man some water,” Diesel commanded.

  “Get him a snack, too, while you’re at it,” Grave said.

  “He gonna be okay?” Toxin asked.

  “Yeah. He’s just in shock,” Diesel murmured.

  And as my heart slammed wildly against my chest, someone put a cool washcloth on the back of my neck. I’d lost my mother. I’d lost my father. Sutton was gone, and if I couldn’t find her, she’d be lost at the hands of her father. My worry for her mounted. I had no idea how long she’d been gone, which meant she had either minutes or hours ahead of us. I tried to compute how far she could get. I tried to run scenarios in my head.

  But my mind had come to a grinding halt.

  “Looks like she snuck down Hideout Hallway and slipped out the side door,” Saint said.

  I didn’t know which was worse. Her leaving me of her own volition, or her being taken against her will.

  “Good. It gives us a place to start. Prospects, I want a search party made up of you guys headed in the direction of those footprints. If anything looks suspicious, you call me immediately,” Diesel said.

  “On it,” Bear said.

  “Guys reach out to the girls. See if maybe she’s gotten in contact with one of them. I know they left their numbers with her. At least, Brynn did. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Diesel said.

  “Got it,” Brewer murmured.

  “I’ll have Piper put out a request to all the hospitals in the area to keep an eye out,” Rock said.

  “And I’ll have Everly call all her connections in town. That woman can network unlike anyone I’ve ever seen,” Grave said.

  “What should I be doing?” I asked

  I looked into my brother’s eyes and watched as he held up a glass of water.

  “For now, you need to drink. Because if you pass out on me, you’re staying on that floor,” he said.

  18

  Sutton

  As I ran through the small wooded area, my lungs burned. I was exhausted. Worried. My heart slammed against my chest with every step I took. The only way I knew how to remedy this was talking to my father. Maybe I could talk some sense into him. Maybe I could buy Cage some time to come up with a plan that kept him and the guys safe. As well as their families. They were all in danger because of their proximity to me, and I couldn't let anything happen to them. If my father stormed that lodge because I was in it, they’d all be slaughtered. Leveled. That much, I knew for sure.

  But if I was on the run, my father would prioritize finding me instead of finding them.

  Part of me wondered if it was smart to stay on the run. But part of me knew that was idiotic. If I could hold my father’s attention, it would be peeled away from Cage and the guys. And that was the hand I was going to fly with. Those were the cards I was going to play with.

  “Come on, there has to be something,” I said, panting.

  The small wooded area abruptly stopped, putting me straight out in the open. Sweat dripped down my face. My neck. My back. My hands shook with a lack of food and energy as my eyes panned around. I needed a vehicle. Something to keep me going faster. Keep me going forward.

  Then, across the road and down the block, I spotted a junkyard.

  “Bingo,” I whispered.

  I took off running as quickly as I could. My legs felt like jello and I needed food. Water. Sustenance. But I needed wheels first. I needed a way to get around. My only bet for what looked like miles was something I could hotwire in this junkyard. An old car or a go-kart.

  Or a bike.

  After navigating the electric fence, I slipped by the guard that snoozed in the heavy afternoon sun. Well, almost afternoon. I didn’t pay any mind to the cameras in the junkyard. Because I wasn’t planning on staying for any length of time. I rushed around, searching around the piles of rubble and metal for something that could work. And while most of the cars and trucks were disassembled, something caught the corner of my eye.

  And when I saw what it was, I smiled.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” I said with relief.

  There was a rusted old motorcycle leaning up against a pile of rubble. It was rough-looking and didn’t look like a comfortable ride. But it had all its components. I rushed over to it and looked over the wires. The controls. Trying to figure out how best to hotwire it before I drove it out of this place. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to hotwire it. I was better with cars than I was with bikes. And the only motorcycling experience I had were during Cage and I’s first few dates.

  Dates where he taught me how to ride a bike.

  “Think you can handle this?” Cage asked.

  “Do I look like a fairy princess to you?” I asked.

  “I mean, not in that dress and those heels. Maybe in a full-length gown, though.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled.

  “All right, the controls are simple. Since you already know how to drive a stick, you just have to get used to the gear shifting mechanism on a bike. Do the same thing you do with a car. Feel it, breathe with it, and shift as your speed and incline shift,” he said.

  “Thanks for the tips. Now, watch me buzz off with your bike,” I said, grinning.

  But when I struck up the bike and went to push off, it stalled.

  “What was that about buzzing off?” Cage asked, laughing.

  I smiled at the memory. It had been our first date. Our first of many. I pushed
the thought from my mind and focused on what I was doing, which was something I actually learned from Cage as well. Between what he taught me because he wanted to feel like the man and what I’d learned from my father because he wanted to feel like a badass, I knew a great deal about getting around on my own. How to drop off the radar for a few days. How to procure myself a vehicle. How to commit temporary identity theft in order to get around, or out of the country.

  “We could go to Bora Bora,” I murmured.

  I giggled at the idea of spending my days in the sun in a bikini with Cage at my side. Fucking hell, he’d hate it.

  After a few clicks of the correct wires together, the bike sputtered to life. I looked around to see if anyone was coming, then scrambled up to look at the gas gauge. There wasn’t much in it. Maybe a fourth of a tank. But it would at least get me out of this junkyard and into a gas station up the way.

  “Hey! The fuck’s going on out there!?”

  Dogs barked as I scrambled up from the ground. I threw my leg around the bike and prayed this damn thing didn’t stall out on me. After all, four lessons on how to ride a bike, and I’d only been successful with it twice.

  “Come on, work,” I murmured.

  I pushed off and picked up my legs, tucking my purse between my thighs. At first, I struggled with it. With the balance. With the controls. I The barking dogs grew closer. A man yelled at me as I walked the bike toward the exit of the junkyard.

  I watched as a chain-link fence began to automatically close before I took off.

  “There it is!” I exclaimed.

  I got control of the rusted metal. I had control over the shifting mechanism. And as I sped up, I pushed the bike to its limits. I slipped through the closing metal gate just in time, then skidding in order to get out onto the asphalt quickly. I drove up the road, the wind in my hair as I looked down at the speedometer.

  It was broken, but that didn’t matter. I’d gauge it as best as I could while keeping my eyes peeled for gas stations.

  As the wind bellowed through my hair, I sighed. I had to be the one to end this insanity. I had to be the one to reason with my father. And while part of me knew I had to go in with a plan, part of me hoped he would listen to reason. After all, I was all the family he had. Part of me wanted to believe Dad wouldn't slaughter his last living shred of family just to make a statement to the people who worked with him. To his enemies.

  Then again, maybe he would.

  Please forgive me, Cage. I’m so sorry.

  The smile on my face grew, even as the panic in my stomach bloomed along with it. If my father knew I was riding around on a motorcycle right now, he would kill me on the spot. Ironic, considering what I was running from in the first place. My father always wanted me to have the best. But that also meant he held me to a standard I didn’t always hold myself to. That was one of the many things that drew me to Cage in the first place. Cage didn’t hold me to an ideal. He didn’t expect me to be anything more than what I already was. Hell, he didn’t want me to be anything more than simply who I am.

  Cage was a good man.

  My father, on the other hand, wasn’t.

  “You need a plan, Sutton,” I murmured to myself.

  But my mind ripped me back again into my thoughts as I raced down the road that lead me out of Redding.

  “Cage! Look!”

  “You’re doing it, Sutton! Make sure to keep your balance.”

  “Holy shit, this is awesome,” I whispered.

  “Eyes on the road!” he exclaimed.

  I whipped my head up and, for the first time, felt the full force of the wind in my hair. Granted, I was only going thirty miles an hour. But it felt like I was flying at ninety. On top of the world, owning it as I rode Cage’s motorcycle down the road. I slowly turned it around and kicked it up a notch. Hitting thirty-five. Then, forty. Fort- five. Fifty.

  “Sutton, slow down,” Cage said.

  I drew in a deep breath of fresh air and gave into his command. I enjoyed it when it gave me those commands. The heat of his voice. The gentleness of his worry. He wasn’t like my father. He didn’t command me to do things simply because he could. He commanded them because they were for my safety.

  Something my father didn’t know much about.

  Tears rushed my eyes as I thought about it. The last actual date I’d ever had with Cage. It was two months ago, and since that date we had struggled to get together. I mean, other than the occasional night of him showing up at my door. Or me randomly knocking on his father’s door. They were good memories. Fond memories. Our dates spiraled into intimate nights where we sat around, drinking wine and beer, and shooting the shit. Laughing our asses off until tears crested our eyes from the hilarity of it all.

  I wiped away at a tear falling down my face as I came upon the sign.

  Leaving Redding, remember to buckle up!

  My eyes gazed out at the expanse of nothing in front of me. California was so fickle like that. In some areas, you couldn’t move five steps without bumping into someone. Or the facade of some building. And then, there were stretches like this. Stretches of absolutely nothing except for grass and dust and desert and forest, all coming together to form an amalgamation that was both daunting and beautiful.

  Like Cage.

  My stomach growled and sighed. I needed food. And gas in my bike. I continued on, looking for some sort of station I could stop at as my hunger grew. My mouth grew parched. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The top of my head was already sizzling from the heat of the sun, and my clothes were slowly growing damp with sweat.

  “Not a glamorous thing, riding a bike,” I said to myself.

  After traveling for what felt like ten or so miles, I finally came upon a gas station. It was rundown and dusty. But it was working. Which was good, because my bike was almost on empty. I pulled into the station and turned off the bike, knowing I’d look damn suspicious when I went to start it up again with nothing but the fucking wires. Still, I shut down the engine with a click of the correct wires while the gas station was practically deserted, then walked inside.

  “Whatcha need?” the cashier asked.

  “Fifteen on pump three. I’ll come back for food in a sec,” I said.

  “Sure thing.”

  I paid the woman behind the counter and went outside. I filled up the gas tank until it was practically overflowing, then screwed the cap back one. I slung my leg over the bike and walked it into a parking space at the front door, then put the rusted kickstand down.

  I almost couldn’t get it down with all the rust caked around it. But I eventually got it to work.

  “How long you been riding?” the woman asked.

  I walked up and down the aisles, grabbing chips and a hot dog before heading to get a drink.

  “Not long. That’s just a trainer bike. Found it in a junkyard somewhere and the man practically gave it to me,” I said.

  “But shit like that is good to learn on. No loss if you crash it or shred the gears,” she said.

  “Which I’ve done a time or two,” I said, giggling.

  She smiled at me as I paid for the food, and I found myself missing Cage something fierce. People here were so nice. So, kind. Much nicer than anyone I’d ever met back in Nevada. Even with my father’s intimidation hanging over their heads. I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay in this place with Cage and live out my life here. With him. But, before I could go around chasing whatever life I wanted, I had to confront my father first.

  I had to end this.

  I love you, Cage.

  I sat down at a rickety table by a window in the gas station. I opened up my chips and ate a few, then cracked my large bottle of water open. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, though. And the second they did, I slowly started looking around.

  While I knew my father and his cronies weren’t there, that didn’t mean they weren’t looking for me. That didn’t mean they weren’t close.

  And I knew they were close because I cou
ld feel it.

  Good thing I left town. Maybe they’ll pull away from the Dead Souls now to follow me.

  I took my time with my water. I finished off the bag of barbecue chips and ate the meat portion of my hot dog. Then, once I filled myself up, I perched my purse on the table. I pushed my trash off to the side, digging around until my fingertips settled against my phone.

  And when I pulled it out, I dialed the only number in my call log.

  The number I let pour over into my voicemail earlier this morning.

  “Enjoying your lunch?” my father asked.

  His voice made my stomach flip over as my eyes slowly scanned the gas station outside.

  “I’d like to meet, Daddy,” I said.

  “I figured you would, princess,” he said.

  “I’ll meet anywhere you want. On your terms.”

  “There are no terms. I’m simply glad you’re calling.”

  “Can we talk once we meet up? I’d really like to talk,” I said.

  “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time and privacy to talk,” he said.

  Then, as my eyes searched the road in front of the gas station, I saw it. A black car on the horizon. It grew closer, and bigger, and blacker all the while. I sighed into the phone as I sat there, listening to my father’s breathing. The black SUV pulled into the gas station and pulled up directly beside that rusted piece of junk.

  “I never would have put you on a motorcycle, princess,” my father said.

  I snickered. “I know. You always said I was a top-down, Camaro kind of girl.”

  “Are they going to hurt me?”

  “No. They have specific orders to treat you with the care they always have. But if you give them a reason to, they’ll do their job.”

  My stomach curled into itself as I watched the men get out of the SUV. The surrounded my bike while one of them opened up the side door of the car. Then, they all turned their sun glassed faces toward me through the window.

  “You really should get in the car, princess,” my father said.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said softly.

  I hung up the car and gathered my things. I grabbed my bottle of water, then threw away my trash. Then, I looked at the woman behind the counter. She stared outside, jotting something down on a sheet of paper. Her eyes came up to meet mine and she looked worried. Frantic. And she had every right to feel that way.