Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5

by Savannah Rylan

  The guys passed by me one at a time as I stared Grave straight in his eyes. I wasn’t afraid of him or anyone else in this fucking crew. The only reason why I was here in the first place was because I literally had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to. No one to call family. Redding was the only place I knew to call “home.” And even still, sometimes it didn’t feel like home.

  Like, now.

  Like the past two fucking months.

  I put on my best smile as the guys gathered around. But I saw them all peeking at me. Staring at me. Like I had a dick-print on my face. Everyone told me my smile didn’t quite reach my eyes. That I looked more maniacal than anything else whenever I showed my teeth in an attempt to put on a face.

  Couldn’t help that shit, though.

  Got nothing to be happy about.

  “Everyone here?” Grave asked.

  “Raise your hand if you aren’t,” I said, smiling.

  “He’s doing it again,” Bear said.

  “Can you not smile like that? Seriously,” Ryker said.

  “Don’t like it, don’t look,” I said.

  And I continued smiling while everyone shuffled on their feet.

  “Anyway, so. Now that we’ve had a day to process, we need to figure out how the fuck we’re getting Diesel back,” Grave said.

  “Should we get the Black Hornets involved again?” Rock asked.

  “Do we really need to be leaning on them every time we need to be bailed out of something?” Brewer asked.

  “Hey, they helped before. They said if we needed something—”

  “And what kind of position will that put us in to repay the favor?” Saint asked.

  “What? You don’t like repaying people for what they do for you?” I asked.

  “Don’t listen to him. When he contributes something decent, we can listen to him,” Grave said.

  “Oh, finally. A nice little round of banter. I like it,” I said.

  “And besides, you know how overprotective Dean is of Brynn. If anything, he’d ensure Brynn was safe, whether or not that meant Diesel’s death,” Knox said.

  Grave paused. “That’s a fair fucking point.”

  “Daddy Dearest, I take it?” I asked.

  “Shut up, Toxin,” everyone said.

  Oh, I loved it when they all said my name like that.

  “Okay. All in favor of asking the Black Hornets for help, raise your hands,” Grave said.

  And just to be cheeky, I raised mine. The only hand that crept into the air.

  “I really hate you sometimes,” Grave murmured.

  “Which is why you keep me around. No use in hating yourselves or your women if you hate me,” I said flatly.

  My hand fell back down beside me and none of the guys looked at me. Because they knew I was fucking right. I was their little punching bag. The guy who could kill with his bare hands with a smile on his face, and then be the hated one so they could all have productive relationships with women they didn’t deserve. That was my true role in this group. I was the thing they could all hate together. The one thing they could rally around if shit hit the fan.

  Which was now.

  “All right, motion to move on?” Grave said.

  “Aye,” the room said.

  “Toxin?” Grave asked.

  I shrugged. “Diesel never goes through this shit. Move on, home slice.”

  He shook his head. “Fine. Okay. So, we need to figure out how the fuck to fix this situation. And fast. We’ve already slept on it to tuck our emotions back in. We need to come at this rationally.”

  “We need to take him head on,” Cage said.

  “Mmm, I don’t think that’s rational,” I said.

  “Toxin’s right. Taking a man like that head on would end up getting Diesel killed before we could breach whatever doors this guy’s standing behind,” Bear said.

  “Oh, you know my kink, Bear. Yes, please,” I said.

  “Anytime, hot stuff,” he said, winking.

  The two of us chuckled as the guys groaned.

  “What about a distraction?” Ryker asked.

  “Or someone to go in undercover?” Saint asked.

  “That’s… not a bad idea,” Grave said.

  “He knows what we look like, though. All of us. We’d need some serious fucking costumes and makeup,” Bear said.

  “I’m not wearing makeup,” I said.

  “If we did have someone go in undercover, who would be willing to do it?” Grave asked.

  And as everyone stood around with their thumbs up their asses, I noticed something. The reason why no one wanted to raise their hands.

  They all had something to lose. They all had families. Most of them had children. Grave was about to have multiple children. Which meant if something happened to them, they’d be leaving an entire family high and dry. One by one, the guys started turning my way. First, Grave. Then, Bear. And one by one, the rest of them followed. Until Brewer was the last one that looked at me.

  With something akin to sorrow in his eyes.

  “Ah, yes. The loner,” I said, chuckling.

  “You’d be the best for an assignment like this,” Grave said.

  “So, I’m the only option because I’m the lonely one,” I said.

  “No one said that. And you can always say ‘no,’” Brewer said.

  “Thanks, Daddy. But I think I’ve got this one,” I said.

  “You’d be down for something like this?” Bear asked.

  I shrugged. “Like I said, no pussy-footing around with wigs and makeup. But going undercover in one of Lars’ casinos might not be a terrible night. How many drinks can I have?”

  “None,” Grave said flatly.

  “Well, that doesn’t suit the persona I wanted to go in with. Maybe two?” I asked.

  “None,” Grave said.

  “One.”

  “One, but you don’t fucking finish it.”

  “One, and if I finish it, I won’t get another.”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  “I’m serious, Toxin. You can say ‘no’ to all of this,” Brewer said.

  I snickered. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now, Dad.”

  “I just don’t want you getting hurt unnecessarily. I know how reckless you can be sometimes,” he said.

  I stared at him for a long time as my memories pulled me back.

  “Run, Michael!”

  My lungs panted for air as my feet carried me as fast as I could go. My blisters swelled and popped, the rocks digging into my feet. Flashlights shone all around me, sweeping the ground as I dodged them. Quickly. Deftly. With all the strength I had in my bones.

  “Get him! He can’t leave this fucking compound!”

  That voice. I’d never forget that voice. The voice that wooed little girls into his bed and tarnished little boys with his disgusting rhetoric. How my mother got swept up into shit like this, I’d never know. But I did know one thing. The one rule I’d live my life by if I ever got through those damn gates.

  No one—not a fucking soul—would have control over my life.

  “Toxin?” Grave asked.

  “Hey, man. You good?” Bear asked.

  I blinked. “Yep. Just thinking about which drink I’m going to have for this undercover operation.”

  Grave snickered. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  “But I’m the asshole that’s going to save Diesel,” I said.

  “All in favor?” Grave asked.

  Hands shot up in the air, left and right. Relieved sighs came from the mouths of new fathers and men who wanted to continue sticking their dicks in the women that filled this clubhouse. It was almost comical, how easily they wanted to pawn this off onto me. How easily they wanted to shove this responsibility onto me because “I’d be perfect for the job.”

  When really, that translated to, “if he died, no one would miss him.”

  “I’m not okay with this plan,” Brewer said.

  “I’m a
bit on the fence, too,” Knox said.

  “Well, majority still rules in this democracy. So, are we going to hammer out a plan or not?” I asked.

  “Seriously, we need to think about this,” Bear said.

  “Aww, it’s sweet you guys care,” I said.

  “Enough,” Grave said curtly.

  We all fell silent as my grin slid into an empty smile.

  “Can you not with that thing right now? Tuck it away,” Saint said.

  “And here I thought you liked my winning looks,” I said.

  “Enough!” Grave roared.

  And that stunned all of us into silence.

  “Toxin, how do you feel about going in undercover to one of his casinos, like you said?” Grave asked.

  I shrugged. “Wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think it would work.”

  “Not what you think. How you feel.”

  “You my psychiatrist now?”

  “Answer the fucking question or turn in your jacket.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I think it’s the safest way to secure intel from the source. Lars keeps his casinos close to his sleeve. Right, Cage?”

  “Right,” he said.

  “He’s not going to expect us to hit him where it hurts like that. He’s not going to expect any of us to show up at any one of his casinos right now. He’s going to expect a reaction like Cage’s. He’s not going to expect us coming together like this despite the feelings you want to discuss.”

  I leveled Grave with a look and he nodded his head.

  “How do you feel about a suit?” he asked.

  “I’ve worn worse things. Like this leather jacket,” I said, grinning.

  He snickered. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

  “You keep me around, though. So, I must not be that bad.”

  Grave came over and placed his hand onto my shoulder.

  “You’ll have an earpiece and a microphone. We won’t leave you hanging any step of the way. Got it?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I know that.”

  “And if at any point in time you feel you need to leave, you have that right.”

  “You mean, like, the casino? Or this little pow-wow where you’re giving me bedroom eyes?”

  All the guys chuckled as a grin spread across Grave’s face.

  “How do you not have a woman with that winning charm of yours?” he asked.

  “Because I don’t want one,” I said plainly.

  He nodded slowly. “Well, then we better get to work figuring out how the hell we’re going to get you into and out of that casino in one piece.”

  And as I drew in a deep breath, for some reason, an image of my mother’s face bombarded my mind. Those dark green eyes I’d inherited. That thick, black hair mine took after. The braid she always wore it in. The stoic look that always graced her face. She was single-handedly the strongest and weakest human being I’d ever encountered. The strongest and weak-minded individual I’d ever known.

  The only woman in my life I’d ever truly love.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.

  2

  Natasha

  I smoothed my hands over my outfit as I sighed in the mirror. I hated this fucking thing. I hated the scantily-clad outfits they had us wear. But it was a themed party at the casino tonight. The Roaring Twenties. A time the mafioso himself would have thrived.

  My flapper dress was much too tight. Way too form-fitting for the times. Instead of tights, I wore fishnets with impossibly-high heels that probably didn’t even exist during those times. The dress plunged low. My tits were hiked up. My hair had been teased to the high heavens. And my ruby red lips looked like they’d been blown up with plumper beforehand.

  But it made the boss happy. Which meant steady money. I got to keep all the tips thrown at me or shoved down into my bra by nasty, drunken old men. It was steady money. Good money. And I didn’t have to keep running.

  I was protected, with this kind of job.

  I picked my tray back up and quickly headed out of the bathroom. The noise of the casino and machines dinging off in the distance meant trouble for whoever had won on that slot machine. The overlord, who everyone simply called “Lars,” didn’t like it when people won in his casino. A handful of times, I saw someone walk away with their winnings. Their pockets loaded with cash while everyone glared at them. But I never did see those people come back.

  Those who were lucky enough to prove to Lars himself that they didn’t cheat.

  The second I hit the floor, men whistled at me. Women shot daggers with their eyes at me. Clinging to their rich men in hopes that I wouldn't steal them out from underneath their noses. My job was to get people to spend as much money as possible. Recommend new bets and games. Upsell drinks and food. Flaunt my womanly ways to get them to tip me better.

  But I was simply happy to be away from Ivan.

  “You get back here, you bitch.”

  “Ivan, please. I’m sorry. Just—”

  “Why can’t you do anything right, Natasha!?”

  The crack of his hand against the side of my cheek took me to the floor. I scrambled to get away, only to feel his hand fist the back of my shirt. He hated it when I fucked up our date night. He hated it whenever I didn’t dress myself appropriately. But he hated it even more if I didn’t take the time to groom myself for him. Stubble.

  That set Ivan off more than anything.

  “I just didn’t have time. It’s been such a long day, and I’m on my per—”

  He hoisted me off the floor and slammed me into the wall.

  “Ivan!”

  “I don’t give a shit if you’ve just been in a damn car accident. I take care of you, Natasha. I give you everything. The least you could do is take care of yourself in case I want to look at you while I wank.”

  I winced as someone brushed by me. It shocked me back to reality. I drew in a short breath and put on my best smile, watching as men stared me down. Old men. Rich men. Men with women more than half their ages hanging off them. Ready to suck their cocks for some pocket change.

  Never again would I get myself into that kind of a scenario.

  As much as working for the mafia revolted me, they were also the only people who had been able to keep me safe. One night, I snuck out of my ex’s house and never looked back. One night, after he passed out with alcohol in his veins and my smell on his cock, I risked everything to get out of there. I grabbed my shit, eased myself out of the only window I knew didn’t have an alarm on it, and I shimmied down three stories. On the outside of the house. Knowing damn good and well that if I plummeted to my death, it would be better than staying with him.

  Waking up with him.

  Hoping today wasn’t the day he’d kill me.

  For days, I aimlessly walked around. I slowly sold my possessions until I had nothing but the clothes on my back. In a pair of ratty leggings, a tunic that somehow kept its pristine appearance, and a pair of flats, I roamed around from city to city. Eating cheap meals, sleeping in caves and under trees at night, and praying Ivan didn’t find me. Then, Phillip came along.

  A man I’d met briefly while at a dinner party with Ivan.

  “Hey, you good? You’re getting stared at.”

  Phillip’s voice ripped me from my trance.

  “I’m sorry. I just—the memories.”

  He placed his hand on the small of my back. “Come with me.”

  “I’m sorry, I promise—”

  “You’re not in trouble. Just come with me.”

  Phillip led me through the casino while smiling at those losing their money in droves. People placed their empty crystal glasses on my silver tray as I passed by. Some people gave us knowing looks. Grinning at us and making me sick to my stomach.

  They thought we were going to go fuck in a closet somewhere.

  But, really, Phillip was about to make me talk through this shit so I could work some more.

  He opened a door in a shadowed corner and ushered me thro
ugh. Straight into his office. He turned on the light and I sat the tray down against his desk. Then, I placed my hands against the hard edge. I bent over, drawing in deep breaths. Trying to shake the memory of Ivan.

  Trying to shake that memory of when he first raped me.

  “What triggered it?” Phillip asked.

  “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be okay in—”

  “You aren’t listening to me. What triggered the flashback?”

  I sighed. “I don’t—I don't know. One second I was fine, and the next…”

  I slowly rose up before turning to face him. Those kind, green eyes and that light brown hair. The man looked positively innocent in the right light.

  I knew him well enough to know he was anything but, though. He was a killer. Someone who wouldn't hesitate before slaughtering a cheater in the middle of this casino floor. I’d seen him do it before. Take a life without even breaking a sweat. Or flinching. Or generally showing any sort of remorse.

  “Do you need a minute?” Phillip asked.

  “I don’t know why I’m still scared of him,” I said.

  “Because he brutalized you.”

  I paused. “Thanks for that reminder.”

  “He won’t get you here. You have my word on that. It’s why I brought you here.”

  “I still owe you for that, you know.”

  “You owe me nothing. I have to admit, there are times where I look at you and see the woman I found on the side of the road that day.”

  My brow furrowed. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Mhm. Never seen anything like it. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You need to work on that.”

  “I know, I know. I’m so—”

  I caught myself, and it made Phillip grin.

  “You ready to get back out there?” he asked.

  “Is it rational? You know, to be afraid Ivan’s going to find me?” I asked.

  Phillip nodded. “It is. Especially after what you went through. But you have my promise he’s not getting anywhere near you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Does that help your mind?”

  I smiled softly. “It does, yes. I guess, sometimes, I just need reassurance.”

  “I get that. Sometimes, I need reassurance.”

  I snickered. “On what?”