Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5

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Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5 Page 49

by Savannah Rylan


  And while they’d succeeded with my brother, they hadn’t with me.

  I’d become the family disappointment by the age of seventeen. Not even graduated from high school, and none of the boys my father set me up with wanted to date me. So, even though I was only seventeen years old, he started setting me up with older men. Men twice my age. Men he worked with, who he had his own fondness for. Men that killed for a living. Men that pulled in large sums of money to work underground jobs while lurking in the shadows.

  I’d grown used to the shadows staring back at me.

  All in all, I’d been proposed to eleven times. And each time, I said no. I rejected them, flat-out. Most, before they could even get the question out. I remembered one particular time. Joe was his name. He got down on one knee and I blurted out no before he even spoke a word. And the end result was a massive beating from my own father that left me with the scars I now had on my back.

  Belts can do serious damage, if not properly used.

  Before Dad died, he never ceased to remind me that Mom never lived long enough for her to see the woman I’d turned into. The exact kind of life she didn’t want for her daughter. A lonely life in my childhood home without a suitor in the world who wanted to be at my side. And while I was proud of that fact, my father never ceased to remind me of just how much shame I’d brought down onto the family. How many bonds he had to fix with my stark no’s during proposals. How many hearts I’d broken “just because.”

  A maneater, they called me. When really, I was simply a little girl who wanted a chance to live her life the way she saw fit.

  Just like Ariel upstairs, who wanted a choice in how she could run her life.

  5

  Ryker

  I couldn’t focus. As the guys started spit-firing plans my way, I turned my body out toward the ocean. I listened as the waves lapped against the cliffside we sat on. I walked toward the railing, gazing out over the watery horizon. And as the blue water white-capped itself with waves in the distance, it reminded me of my daughter’s eyes.

  Those beautiful hazel eyes I missed so much.

  “How you holding up?”

  Saint’s voice pierced my thoughts as his hand clapped against my shoulder. I slowly looked over at him, watching worry fall over his face. If there was anyone who even remotely understood how I felt right now, it was him. And even then, he didn’t completely get it. He’d only just become a father. He hadn’t been a father for years on end. For the majority of his life, like me.

  “I’m not,” I said flatly.

  “Anything I can do?” he asked.

  “You can get your hand off me.”

  His hand slipped off my shoulder. “The guys are coming up with some good plans. Wanna hear them?”

  “No.”

  “Back to barely talking again?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you talk much to us, Ryker?”

  “Because I don’t like talking.”

  He stood beside me, silent, as he gazed out over the water. Part of me wanted to throw myself over the damn railing and drown. Maybe then, Lyle could take over Ariel’s care and she’d have a better shot at a better life. Surely, he was a better father figure than I’d ever been. Than I ever could be.

  “I chose this crew over her,” I said.

  Saint shook his head. “You put her in someone’s care you trusted while tackling the one issue you knew threatened her.”

  “And the second we thought she had run away; I should’ve been leading the cavalry.”

  “For all you know, you could’ve hopped in with the police and Lars would’ve seen that as a threat.”

  “I could’ve talked to Brewer. Gotten him to use his police connections.”

  “And for all you know, Lars has police in his pocket now, too. The best thing you could’ve done for your daughter—”

  I whipped around, my eyes filling with anger. “Don’t you dare tell me what would’ve been good and bad for my daughter when you’ve only been a father yourself for a few hours.”

  I snarled at Saint before I pushed away from him. Our shoulders knocked together as I stormed through the guys, making my way off the porch. They yelled for me. Called out for me. Asked me what the fuck I was doing.

  “I need space, assholes!” I exclaimed.

  I ripped my bike keys out of my pocket, then tossed my leg over my bike. I needed the wind in my face. I needed the sun on my back. I needed sweat dripping down my brow as I cruised up the coastline. I needed that time to think. I needed to get away from the chaos of it all and breathe for a few minutes. I cranked up the engine as someone trotted up to me. And when I peered over, I saw Diesel standing there, frustration written on his face.

  “You come back once you’ve cleared your head, but you won’t erupt at those guys again. Rock and Brewer are already trying to figure out how to dig up information, even though you completely withheld your life’s circumstance from us. So, come back with a better attitude. You hear me? We’re here to help you. We’re here brainstorming for you and the sake of your daughter. Understand the situation you’ve put us in by not divulging any of your life with us and own up to the mistakes you’ve made. Come back with a clear head and let’s get to work. Got it?”

  And as I bit down into the inside of my cheek to keep from firing back at him, I nodded my head.

  I cranked the engine up and pushed away from the clubhouse. The motor carried me away, up the coastline and straight into town. I soared by shops I’d become familiar with. I rode by food as my stomach growled out at me. I sure as hell wasn’t stopping for wings at a time like this, though. I didn’t deserve an ounce of nourishment or sleep until this shit was resolved. Until I had my daughter back in my arms. My own personal anger toward myself grew with every mile that fell behind me.

  I should have never relied so heavily on Lyle watching her for all these years.

  “Will someone get the fucking door!?”

  Dad’s voice bounced off the walls as another knock came at the door. Then, the doorbell rang. I rushed out of my room, fumbling down the steps as I tried to get to it before he did. I heard her voice already laced with alcohol. And that only meant one thing.

  Mom and I were in for it tonight.

  “Don’t make me get up off this couch,” Dad glowered.

  “Oh, shut up, old man. Your son’s getting the door,” Mom said.

  “The fuck did you say to me?”

  I felt a fight already striking up and prayed it was Lyle. Coming to whisk me away on some grand adventure. Or merely, to invite me to dinner. I pulled the door open and smiled, waiting to see my best friend on the other side of the door.

  But instead, a soft hiccup greeted me at the door.

  I ripped myself from my trance as a car horn honked. I swerved back into my lane, barely missing the Ferrari as it tore down the oncoming lane. I drew in a deep breath as the memory flashed through my mind. The first time I gazed upon Ariel’s face. The first time I looked into those deep hazel eyes. The first time I set my sights on that fiery red hair and understood exactly what had taken place.

  At the time, I had no idea what to do.

  And now, I still had no fucking clue what to do.

  At sixteen years of age, I took on a kid. I mean, I didn't know what else to do at the time. I didn't know shit about adoption. And to be honest, the thought never crossed my mind. Maybe it should have, though. Ariel could have had a much better life with a stable couple prepared for a child. Whether that made me stupid or selfish, I’d never know. But the first time I cradled her in my arms that night, I understood what love meant. All my life, up until that point, I’d grown up knowing what fear meant. What anger meant. What disappointment meant. But never love. Despite how my mother shielded me from my father, in the end, she always did what she thought was best for her. Instead of getting us out of that situation, she stayed by him. Stuck with him. Despite what he did to us. She made selfish decisions, and that selfishness had been reflected in
my own actions.

  Fuck, I’m turning into my goddamn mother.

  The thought made me sick, which only made me angrier. I kicked it into high gear, speeding up and down the highway as I racked my brain and came up with nothing. I didn't even know where to begin. I didn’t know how to start tracking my daughter down. My head felt cloudy. My eyes were masked with tears. I didn't even want to imagine the veritable tortures being brought down onto her head right now.

  And all because I’d been selfish.

  I couldn't imagine my life without Ariel. Even though I relied heavily on Lyle to babysit and watch her, I couldn't imagine my life without my baby girl. I turned off the highway and brought myself to a comfortable cruise. I remembered back to the first time Ariel ever rode on my bike. I kept her tight against me as I eased down the road, her arms tight around my neck. Her legs locked around my waist. I remembered the feel of her soft red locks pummeling me in the face. I remembered the searing looks I got from our neighbors as I slowly cruised through our neighborhood. We had a small house on the outskirts of the city. Nothing fancy. Nothing to boast about. But it was ours, and we’d been there ever since moving out of that dingy, disgusting apartment.

  Fully paid off. So, no one could ever take it from us.

  Why didn’t you tell the damn club about her, you idiot?

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to find out. It was that I didn’t want Ariel to find out. I didn’t want her growing up in that kind of a lifestyle until I knew the lifestyle would be safe. Just like I kept her shielded from the work I did up until Knox came along, I wanted to keep her shielded from this. Which meant keeping both sides in the dark until they right time came along. It never did, though. From the second I became a prospect, it seemed as if problems poured in from all sides. So, I didn’t tell the guys about my daughter. And I didn’t tell her about the guys.

  The biggest mistake you could’ve ever made, asshole.

  I sighed as I came to a stop at a stoplight. Damn it, these Redding lights took forever to cycle through sometimes. And as I sat there, staring aimlessly at the red light glaring at me, I thought about how much it reminded me of Ariel’s hair.

  Everything reminded me of her.

  The rolodex of my memories continued to swirl and swivel about. It stopped on the first time she ever walked. Moving away from the couch and flinging herself at me because she wanted to cuddle against Daddy. I relived the first word she ever said. “Diaper,” believe it or not. She brought one to me one day and tossed it at me, then said the word. Commanding me to change her butt as she laid down on the floor. And I’d been so stunned and so excited that I called Lyle to tell him about it.

  Took me damn near fifteen minutes to get her diaper changed that one time.

  Does that make me a bad father?

  I rushed through my other memories of her. More memories that had more selfish moments I’d stolen for myself. Like, the first solid meal she’d ever eaten. I cooked for her and she ate it, so the next night I cooked my favorite meal. Taking advantage of the opportunity to eat something I wanted to eat for once. And when she didn’t want to try it, I enacted punishment. She didn’t get dessert unless she took a bite of everything on her plate.

  That had been our first-ever fight. The first time she ever screamed at me or bucked up to me. As shocking as it sounded, she’d never thrown a tantrum up until that point. Up until I put my foot down with the food she was eating. She flipped the damn plate onto the floor and smacked her hands against her highchair. Then, she screamed at me. A long, steady shriek that was forever ingrained into my memory.

  I should’ve just cooked what I knew she’d eat.

  The memories kept pouring through, reminding me of how selfish I’d been over the years. Taking her to parks I wanted to go to instead of ones she wanted to go to. Not taking her to the pool whenever she asked. Making her play outside whenever I wanted to be outside instead of cooped up in the house. Reading nighttime stories only twice instead of three times.

  Why the fuck didn’t you just read the damn book one last time?

  I might not ever get those moments back. She might not ever want to go to the pool with me again. Ariel might not ever want a bedtime story again. A car horn honking again pulled me from my mind, and I saw the green light in front of me. I revved my bike as cars whipped around me, flicking me off and yelling at me for being such an asshole. And while I would’ve yelled right back at them, I didn’t.

  Because when I looked beyond the green light, I saw something familiar. I saw a red blob bouncing off in the distance. I saw those long legs. I heard that boisterous laughter. And it stopped me in my tracks.

  As cars whizzed around my stalemated bike, I squinted my eyes. Focusing on the small figure walking down the sidewalk.

  Holy shit.

  That’s Ariel.

  6

  Kaylynn

  “How’s your food?” I asked.

  Ariel shrugged. “Okay.”

  “You need anything to go with it? Some more apple juice?”

  “No.”

  “Want another slice of peanut butter toast?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “What about a banana? I hear that’s good on peanut butter toast.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Daddy eats that. It’s gross looking.”

  I snickered. “Well, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Can-we-go-out-somewhere-today?”

  The question flew out of her mouth so quickly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. I looked at her from beyond my coffee mug, watching how sheepish she became after firing the question out into the ethers. I’d been trying to get her to talk all through breakfast. She came downstairs, flopped down at the kitchen table, and didn't say a word while I cooked her food. All she did was yawn, nod her head, and sigh every time I asked her a question.

  “You want to go out somewhere today?” I asked.

  She blushed. “This house is kind of boring.”

  I grinned. “I suppose it is, in a way.”

  “Why don’t you have TV or anything?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess there’s so much negativity on television lately, I don’t feel like watching it.”

  “TV has cartoons. Those are funny.”

  “I haven’t watched cartoons in a very long time.”

  “You could do Netflix, like Uncle Lyle. Then, you have cartoons and fun shows without the bad shows.”

  “Uncle Lyle, huh? You like him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s he like?”

  She sighed. “He’s Uncle Lyle. I don’t know. He’s weird. Works on cars. Always comes home smelling like butthole.”

  I giggled. “That’s a pretty rough smell.”

  “Especially from Uncle Lyle,” she murmured.

  I laughed softly to myself. “Want to go out and get a TV, then? You know, to watch Netflix?”

  She perked up. “Really? We can do that?”

  “Sure. Why not? We can get something for the living room so we can both watch it.”

  “And the bedroom?”

  “Maybe not the bedroom. But you can stay up an hour later and watch Netflix if you start coming down and socializing more. How does that sound?”

  She thought about it hard. “Okay. Don’t ask questions about Daddy, though.”

  I paused. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t like it when you do.”

  “Fair enough. Can I ask questions about Carlie, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And Uncle Lyle?”

  “Mhm.”

  “And school?”

  “I guess.”

  I held out my hand across the table. “Deal.”

  We shook on it, then finished up our breakfast. I sipped down two cups of coffee while Ariel finished her peanut butter toast and juice. Then, we set off for the store. I mean it wasn’t as if I had to keep us cooped up in this house. I just had to make sure she
didn’t get away from me. So, I kept her close. We drove to the electronics store and I talked to one of the customer service reps about what I wanted. A television and Netflix, however that worked. I wasn’t savvy when it came to technology. I kept myself as far away from it as possible, actually. My cell phone was a smart phone, simply because my brother demanded it to be one. But I didn’t use all its functions. Just for calling, and the occasional text message.

  After forty-five minutes with the customer service representative, Ariel and I walked out to the car with a fifty-inch flat-screen television and something called a Roku. The guy said the directions were simple, so I didn’t bombard him with too many questions. And judging by the pep in Ariel’s step, she probably knew how to use the thing anyway.

  A nine-year-old.

  Knowing how to use technology more than a twenty-seven-year-old.

  “Can we go do something else now?” she asked.

  I closed the trunk, shutting the electronics inside. “I don’t know. What were you thinking?”

  “Lunch.”

  I giggled. “We just had breakfast, silly town.”

  “So, a snack?”

  “What in the world kind of snack would you want?”

  She smiled brightly. “Ice cream.”

  “Oh. I see where this is going. A big, fat ice cream first thing in the morning.”

  “I mean it’s not really first thing in the morning.”

  I grinned. “You’re good at getting what you want, aren’t you?”

  Her smile faltered a little. “Not really.”

  I wanted to press on about her statement, but I also didn’t want to upset her. This was the most playful she’d been since being dropped into my care over two weeks ago. And I was enjoying it.

  “Well, ice cream it is, then,” I said.

  “Really!?” she exclaimed.

 

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