Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5

by Savannah Rylan

  “You can either do this the easy way, or I can knock you out. Which is it gonna be?” I asked.

  And when she stopped beating against my suit, I patted her ass with my hand.

  “Good choice.”

  I held her to me as chaos ensued. Bodyguards ran about, forcing us to stay cloaked in the shadows. I had no idea where the fuck I was going. But I hoped it was in the right direction. I breathed deeply and kept myself silent as Natasha started getting in on the action. Pointing the way before grumbling that I wouldn't put her down.

  “Can’t risk you getting away until after we talk. But I promise you, I’m not here to hurt you,” I said.

  “Says the guy who won’t let me fucking walk on my own,” she said flatly.

  I ignored her comment and used the chaos to my advantage. But it only worked for so long. I heard someone yell, “he’s got one of our girls!” And before I knew it, gunshots rang out in my ears. Natasha screamed. I ducked behind furniture and aimed my gun at the man shooting. I popped the guard in his thigh, causing him to drop his gun. And when I saw two more ambushing me, I made sure to make frugal use of my ammunition.

  Not enough bullets to kill. But enough to stop them from charging us.

  “Put me down!” she demanded.

  “Once we get to my bike, I will,” I said.

  “I’ll talk to you. I’ll tell you what you want to know. But I’m not leaving with you. End of story.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but your story’s just beginning with us.”

  More guards took aim and I shot at them until my magazine was empty. Then, it was simply a matter of dodging their bullets long enough to get out of that damn abandoned warehouse. The guys screamed so loudly into my earpiece I could hear them from my damn pocket. Natasha yelped every time gunfire rained down. I sighed as I made my way up the steps. Taking them two by two while holding this gorgeous woman over my shoulder.

  Then, I heard words that froze her against my shoulder.

  “He can’t leave with her. Kill her if necessary!”

  “What?” she asked breathlessly.

  I ran as quickly as I could. I picked up abandoned pieces of wood with nail shards and started beating the shit out of the men that followed us. And as we poured out onto the street, her softly cried against me. She didn’t beat against my back anymore. But instead, clung to my suit. She didn’t wiggle around to get away anymore. But instead, curled tighter into me. Making it much easier to carry her around.

  “Come on, we have to get on my bike,” I murmured.

  I patted her ass before I let her down. I heard men yelling as they traveled up the stairs. I dug out my keys and slid my leg over my bike. Then, I offered Natasha my hand. She stared at me. Her eyes dropped to my hands. And as her eyes darted back and forth between parts of my body, her eyes welled with tears.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  But before I could answer, another bullet soared by our heads.

  “Get on or we’re both dead,” I said.

  And I didn’t have to tell her twice.

  I revved my engine as she slid onto the bike behind me. She wrapped her legs and arms around me, her bare feet settled between my thighs. The condition of her feet made me sick. She had blisters that were burst open and oozing. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her face into my back. Curling deeper into me as men kept pouring out of that building. Her warmth stopped me in my tracks. Only for a second. But enough to make me question my entire life’s purpose.

  Why the fuck did this woman have such an effect on me?

  “Please, get me out of here,” she whispered.

  I peeled away from the alley, quickly finding the main road before we sped off into the night. Away from that fucking casino. Away from those fucking guards. I dodged bullets coming for us as she yelped into my back. Fisting my suit and clinging to me as I drove us away from that wretched place.

  And away from the men that apparently wouldn’t let Natasha go without a fight.

  6

  Natasha

  The wind whipped around us as car tires squealed in the distance. Tears rumbled down my cheeks as I hung on as tightly as I could. My thighs clamped down harder. I locked my feet around this strange man’s waist. My fingertips dug into the meat of his abs as I held on tightly. And through his clothing, I felt the strength of his muscles.

  Not now, Natasha.

  I closed my eyes, too scared to look at what was happening around me. The motorcycle he drove tilted almost to the damn ground on a couple of occasions. Gunshots rang out again, the wind of bullets soaring by us. I shivered with fear, knowing damn good and well this was how I would met my end.

  This was how I’d go out.

  They wanted to kill me.

  I didn’t know where we were going and, quite frankly, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to live my life and try to stay out of trouble. So, how the hell did trouble always find me? How the hell did I end up in an abusive relationship with some asshole before seeking refuge with the damn mafia? How the hell did I get entangled with some drunken businessman who couldn't keep his hands to himself?

  How in fuck’s name did I end up on the back of some nameless man’s bike, running for my life?

  Your life is insanity, Natasha.

  I drew in deep breaths as I clung to the strange man in front of me. I peeked my eyes open on a couple of occasions and saw men in black SUVs pulling up beside us. He darted off into alleyways, honking his bike horn as people screamed and yelped. They threw themselves out of the way as car tires squealed on the asphalt. Trying to keep up with us as his bike darted in and out. Taking sharp corners and driving down small lanes nothing other than bikes could take.

  But every time, those damn cars found us.

  “We’re going to die,” I whispered.

  “No, we’re not,” he growled.

  I whipped my head up. Had he really heard that? Gunfire rained down and I shivered against him. His back muffled my screams. His muscles pulsed underneath his clothes. My feet screamed out for warm water and Epsom salts and my stomach cried out for food. My eyes wanted to fall closed. My body was giving up because of the massive surge of adrenaline. I was tired. Defeated. Unable to keep my eyes open as my body slowly shut itself down.

  Then, he randomly crossed the road.

  Car horns honked, shooting me awake as I jumped against him. I peeked over to the side, watching as the brick wall of another building came into view. Only this time, he turned his bike around. He slowed his panting down to nothing. Down to silent breaths as we sat there on his bike.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  But all he did was put his fingers to his lips.

  The black SUVs went rushing past. Men hung out of the car with their guns trained in front of them. I watched one pass. Then, two. Three. Four. Five fucking black SUVs trying to track us down. And all of them zoomed by the entrance of the alleyway. So, I looked behind us to see if they could somehow find us that way.

  And I was met with a solid brick wall that turned this alleyway into a dead end.

  “Are you all right?”

  This strange man craned his neck back, peering his eyes over his shoulder. And as his question dawned on me, I scoffed. He unraveled me from his body and slid off his bike, his eyes traveling my form. I was used to the wandering eye of men on my skin. My legs, usually. Because of how long they were. Men were either intimidated by my dark stare or my height. And usually, it was a bit of both.

  But after he raked his eyes over me for the third time, the adrenaline had worn off enough for me to find my voice.

  “Are you fucking insane?” I asked.

  He nodded slowly. “Usually.”

  “That was rhetorical.”

  “Not with me.”

  “What the hell were you thinking, intervening like that and causing problems? Now, I’m sure they want me dead. They probably think I was in cahoots with you or something!”

  He paused. “Cahoot
s?”

  “You know, working with you. Planning some epic escape or something.”

  “So, you’re a prisoner, but you’re complaining about someone helping you escape?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn't understand.”

  “Then, help me understand. That man was about to rape you. And you’re upset that I stopped it.”

  “I’m not upset that—you just—you’ve ruined my livelihood. What the hell am I supposed to do with that now? There’s no proving my innocence at this point,” I said.

  He blinked. “Well, I’ve got bigger issues than some asshole at a casino.”

  “And I’ve got bigger issues than a man with a machismo God complex.”

  “He was about. To rape. You.”

  “And you’ve. Just destroyed. My cover.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Cover? Are you a cop or something?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not saying anything more.”

  I stared in front of me, feeling his eyes burrowing daggers into my face. I wasn’t thanking him for shit. I could’ve taken care of myself. I could’ve fought that man off. Men were always vulnerable during that moment when they’re about to take their damn dick out. One well-placed knee to the groin? And he would’ve been down.

  Not to mention, if female staff on the floor are out of sight for more than fifteen minutes? Guards went searching for them. That was the rule in Lars’ casino. I would’ve been found. That man would’ve been dealt with accordingly. And knowing Phillip? That man would’ve been dead.

  But, no. This nameless dickweed had to be a hero.

  “Are you done pouting now?” he asked.

  “Not until you take me back,” I said.

  He snickered. “I’m not taking you anywhere near that place.”

  “Not your choice.”

  “Fine. Then I’m not going anywhere near that place. You want to go back? Get a cab like everyone else.”

  I whipped my head over toward him and pointed my finger near his face.

  “I’m in this situation because of you, you asshole. You, and no one else. You’ll clean up the mess you’ve made of my life, or I’ll make your life a living nightmare.”

  He grinned. “That a promise?”

  “No. It’s a threat. Because if you’re in some slimy casino like that, you’ve got a life to hide. A past you’re running from. A past I’m sure the police around here would enjoy hearing all about the second they put you in handcuffs.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Depends. Is that gun you have on your body legal?”

  We stared at one another as his face reddened with anger.

  “I’m not taking you back there. Because I’m not going back there without a plan. And if you’re right and they suddenly want you dead, they’ll shoot you before you even get through the front doors,” he said.

  “And who’s fault is that!?” I exclaimed.

  “Will you keep your damn shrieking down?”

  “Fine, you don’t want to take me back and clean up your fucking mess? Leave me here.”

  “I’m not leaving you in an alleyway with the condition your feet are in.”

  “Now, all of a sudden, you give a shit about me?”

  “I gave a shit about you when I saw a poor woman begging a drunk man not to take advantage of her,” he said.

  “No one asked you to intervene!” I exclaimed.

  “No one usually does, yet I do it anyway! Because I can’t stand to watch people get hurt!” he bellowed.

  His nostrils flared with anger. His fists clenched at his sides. I couldn't deny how attractive the man was. But, holy shit, he was a ball of absolute nonsense. God complexes. A need to save what was around him. The man had issues. And I didn’t want to stick around long enough to sift through it all.

  Because I had issues of my own I had to fix now.

  All thanks to this asshole.

  “Well, I’m not going with you. So, figure it out. You can leave me here, you can take me back to my place, or you can take me back to the casino,” I said.

  His face softened. “You can’t go back to your place.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah. If they really want you dead, your place will be the first place they look. They’ll probably have someone staking it out. Waiting to put a bullet in your skull the second you turn up.”

  “You aren’t convincing me to come with you. That shit isn’t happening.”

  “You might not have a choice.”

  I gnashed my teeth together. “Because of you!”

  He scoffed. “You’ve already said that.”

  “Then, why don’t you own up to your fucking actions instead of grinning at me like a toddler who just got away with getting a cookie out of the cookie jar.”

  “That was… oddly specific.”

  “I’m going to strangle you.”

  I leapt off his bike and lunged for him. My hands outstretched. Ready to wrap around his neck. But as his face fell to stone, his hands wrapped around my wrists. He prevented me from getting to him as I stumbled around on my feet. The harsh asphalt shot searing pain up my legs. My open blisters screamed at me as dirty, nasty alleyway water coated them. My knees buckled, dropping me to the ground. Only, this man caught me in his arms before my body hit the floor.

  “We need to get you somewhere so we can get you cleaned up,” he said.

  “I’m not going with you. You’ve ruined my life,” I said.

  “And from the sounds of it, your life had already been ruined well before I came along.”

  “You can’t make me do anything. I’m not your slave. I’m not yours to own or boss around.”

  He settled me against his bike. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what you should do for your own good. If you want to go to your place or go back to the casino and be gunned down, that’s your right. I’d like you to not do that, though.”

  I sighed. “And why’s that? I’m too pretty to bleed out in the street?”

  He slid his leg over his bike in front of me. “No. Because I need information from you.”

  “There they are. I’ve got them!” someone yelled.

  “The alleyway. I see them down there!”

  “I’ve got you now, you little bitch.”

  And when a bullet soared by me, I cried out in fear.

  He struck his bike back up and tore away from the alley. Men shot at us from the rooftops of the buildings we’d been stationed between. And I feared for my life. I clung to him again. Tears crested my eyes. My thigh burned more than anything I’d ever experienced, and my feet wanted to do nothing but rest. His bike skidded along the asphalt. Cars honked their horns as we blew through red lights and tore through stop signs. I felt the jostling of alleyways, even with my eyes closed. And I felt those alleyways give way to back roads. That gave way to main roads. That gave way to neighborhoods we zoomed through.

  I’m going to die tonight.

  Just as quickly as the gunfire started up, it ceased. The revving of those black SUVs could no longer be heard. I peeked out from beyond this man’s back, trying to figure out where we were. And when I heard the crashing of waves beside us, I lifted my head.

  The ocean was beautiful at night.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  The man’s voice ripped me from my trance, and I looked at him. Stared into the back of his head. I peeked around, leaning to the side as I tried to figure out who the hell he was speaking with.

  And I saw an earpiece in his ear.

  How did the guards not see that?

  “Uh huh. I’m heading back. Got someone in tow that I think can help us. Yep. Our cover was blown. Not for the reason you think. Grave, will you—Rock, just—Brewer, tell them to shut the hell up.”

  I furrowed my brow before resting my cheek against his shoulder. Despite how much I wanted to throw this man off the cliffside that passed by us on the left, I still needed him to stay alive.
Until I could figure out my next steps—or get in touch with Phillip—I had to play nice with the egotistical asshole.

  And, apparently, whoever his fucking friends were.

  7

  Toxin

  I ground my teeth together as I sped off toward the clubhouse. Why the fuck was this woman upset? I’d saved her ass. Ripped her out of the clutches of the mafia. Did she not understand what I’d given her? The freedom I’d just handed to her? Did she not understand the assholes she worked for? Assholes that wanted her dead, apparently!?

  I swallowed my growls.

  Her body pressed itself against mine. Her legs wrapped around my body. I kept stealing peeks down at her feet and the smallest part of my heart went out to her. Those blisters ripped me back. Took me back to a time where I felt helpless. Disposable. Used and abused.

  If anyone gets it, it’s me.

  Maybe the mafia had brainwashed her. Or maybe, she had some Stockholm Syndrome going on. Maybe they’d rewired her brain through training over the years or some shit like that. I’d understand that. I watched my mother go through it back in New Mexico. Back when I was a child.

  Back before she helped me escape.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Her voice piped up as I came to a stop.

  “Back to my clubhouse,” I said.

  “What clubhouse?”

  “The one where I stay.”

  “Why are you taking me there?”

  “Does it matter? Not like I’m taking you back to the mafia.”

  She scoffed. “Are you always such an asswipe?”

  Are you always such a bitch?

  I bit down onto the side of my cheek to keep from saying what I really wanted to say. Instead, I sped away from the light once it turned green. Natasha squealed before she clung to me again, and it made me grin. She seethed with anger against me. She had no choice, though. No choice but to trust and rely on me. At least, until we got off this damn bike and out of closed quarters.

  “Are we there yet?” she asked.

  “What are you, four?” I asked.

  “How much longer do we have? I’ve got a phone call to make.”