Knox (Dead Souls MC Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak at Grave!

  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.

  Chapter 1

  Knox

  “The fuck are they doin’ now?” I asked, as I slowed my bike down. Rock pulled up next to me, followed by Mick, Brewer and Grave. We had been tailing several of the guys of The Black Saddles MC for most of the day, and I was getting sick and tired of following them all around fucking Redding.

  “They’re moving closer to our territory, and I don’t like it,” Grave said.

  “Who the hell do they think they are?” Mick asked.

  “What do we do from here?” Rock asked. “Anyone got any ideas?”

  The Black Saddles were known for their shitty maneuvers and their pushy tactics. They knew exactly where the territorial boundaries were, but lately it seemed as though they didn’t give a shit. We kept to ourselves and we expected them to do the fucking same, but they weren’t having it. They wanted our territory enough to posture for it, and multiple warning shots had been fired off over the past couple of weeks. We’d chased them out of more alleyways and broken up more fights in our own damn town than we’d ever had to do before, and I was getting damn tired of it all.

  “This supposed to be some kind of damn mission? Or are we pow-wowwin’?” Brewer asked.

  “The Dead Souls don’t pow-wow,” I said. “But you’re starting to get on my damn nerves.”

  “We’re supposed to be doing surveillance,” Mick said. “So… what do we see?”

  “A bunch of pussy assholes who don’t wanna adhere to boundaries,” I said.

  “So… a bunch of Graves?” Rock asked with a smirk.

  Grave slapped him on the back of the head, almost knocking the man off his damn bike.

  “Settle down, kids,” Brewer said. “We don’t wanna get too loud. I see some of them up ahead.”

  We all turned our attention on the assholes walking around in leather cuts with a pin up girl riding on a Harley as their back patch. The Black Saddles had started hanging around the area about six months ago. At first it seemed like our club’s would get along. Or at least co-exist in the same area. But the second that they started moving closer into our territory, all of us started to get a little more on edge.

  “Why are they out here by one of our sites?” Grave asked.

  “Snoopin’ around, that’s what,” I said. “And we can’t have them doin’ that. Not with so many jobs out right now.”

  Our club ran and laundered money for a hefty price on whoever wanted to use our channels. We had a monopoly on it on this side of the country. The wilderness was the perfect place to do something like this because no one expected tens of thousands of dollars to be filtered through shabby shacks in the fuckin’ forest. Redding, California was our city, and since it was near the Shasta-Trinity National Forest, it was the perfect place to conceal our operations.

  But the Black Saddles were threatening to blow that shit sky high.

  The last thing we needed was the feds coming into our damn town because of some nosey, loud ass biker club and stirring up trouble. And if these fuckers rolled up in here trying to take what was ours, we would fight for it.

  “You guys. Come here. It’s Diesel,” Brewer said. Diesel was the president of our club, and the one that sent us out to follow the fuckers.

  We all hopped off our bikes and surrounded Brewer’s body to listen in on the phone call.

  “You guys all there?” Diesel asked.

  “Yup,” Mick said. “Hit us with it.”

  “I got a tip that The Black Saddles are having some dumbass party in the woods on the other side of Redding.”

  “This whole place is near the fucking woods,” I said.

  “Don’t get smart, Knox. It doesn’t suit you,” Diesel said. “You’re no longer doing surveillance. You’re going to that damn party.”

  “And shooting them dead?” Grave asked. I stifled a laugh.

  “Not today, Grave. Save your bloodlust for later. Make it an informal meeting. Go with beer or whatever the fuck it is those pussies wanna drink.”

  “You want us to set formal boundaries,” Brewer said.

  “Yep. And you guys are gonna get it done. Don’t swing the first punch and you sure as hell don’t blow off the first round. But if things get hairy with them, bury ’em in the ground,” Diesel said.

  “I like the sound of that,” Grave said with a grin.

  “And make sure our hot-head doesn’t massacre them,” Diesel said.

  “We’ll make sure he’s locked down,” Rock said.

  “I don’t need a damn babysitter,” Grave said.

  “Nope. Just maybe some meds,” I said.

  “Call me when it’s done,” Diesel said.

  “Will do,” Brewer said.

  We all got on our bikes and headed for the other side of Redding. We parked our bikes at a gas station and grabbed a case of beer, then set out for the woods. We could already hear them partying up a storm. Loud as fuck with a massive fire raging in the middle of the woods. Like they weren’t risking burning the damn place down altogether. Reckless clubs were the worst. Loud as hell, thought their dicks swung to the ground, and had nothing to back up their threats.

  “Well, lookie who we have here.”

  “The fuck they doin’ here?”

  “You guys lookin’ for a fight?”

  “Nope,” Brewer said. “Just came here to talk.”

  “Talk? The hell you guys wanna talk about?”

  Two distinct individuals parted themselves from the group and started for us. One of them had this mass of hair on his head and a crazy look in his eye. The other guy had a leather cut on that didn’t match the rest of the club’s.

  Meant he was a prospect.

  The Black Saddles had fuckin’ prospects fighting their damn battles.

  “And you are?” I asked

  “Rex,” the guy with the hair said. “This here’s Blaze.”

  “You a prospect, Blaze?” I asked.

  “The fuck does that matter for?” he asked.

  “Just… wondering,” I said, my eyes sizing them both up. If shit hit the fan my guys and I could take them.

  “We come with beer,” Brewer said. “All we wanna do is talk.”

  “‘Bout what?” Rex asked.

  “We want to draw some lines,” Grave said. “We think some wires have gotten crossed as to who owns what in this town.”

  “Naw. Don’t think lines have gotten crossed at all,” Blaze said.


  “With no due respect whatsoever, you’re a prospect. And by the clean shaven look of yours, you haven’t been one for long,” I said. “So, let the adults talk while you take care of the beer.”

  Brewer thrust the beer into Blaze’s arms as his eyes grew wide with anger.

  “What boundaries you wanna discuss?” Rex asked.

  “Redding is ours. All of it,” Rock said. “Including thirty miles into this forestry and thirty miles outside the city on all sides.”

  “And who drew those lines?” Rex asked.

  “We did, when we settled. Eleven years ago,” I said.

  “So, you guys think ya got grandfathered into some place and now you’re scared because ya got company?” Blaze asked.

  My eyes panned over to the prospect as he dropped the beer to the ground.

  “Gas station beer tastes like piss,” Blaze said flatly.

  “Better than the swill you’re probably drinking’,” I said.

  “We might be new, but we ain’t new to how this works,” Rex said. “You want your territory, you defend it. Wars have been fought over less in the South. You want it, come and get it.”

  “Fine by me,” I said.

  I took a step towards Blaze and I eyed him. I smiled when he pulled his arm back and threw the first punch. Then, all hell broke loose. My men were throwing punches and pulling out guns, popping off shots and splintering trees. I cracked my hand against Blaze’s jaw before I felt his fist connect with my stomach. I went stumbling to the ground, hitting my knees as I gasped for air. I watched Blaze’s nasty ass boots scoot underneath my gaze as his hand reached down for my hair, and he pulled my face back to see him as I watched blood trickle down his chin.

  “Ya look good on your knees like that. Reminds me of your sister, Canyon. ‘Cept she’ll be facing away from me when it happens.”

  My vision dripped with red as I balled up my fists. No one knew about my family. No one outside of my immediate crew. Grave, Brewer, Rock, Mick, and Diesel. They were my family, so it was only fitting they knew about mine. No one else outside of them were supposed to know about her.

  And yet, someone did.

  When I got involved with the club, I made myself distant from my family to protect them. My father left us all when I was young, and I watched my mother rise up like the strong woman she was to take care of us. But I pulled away from her when I became a prospect in order to protect her. In order to save her from the life of darkness I was beginning to enjoy.

  Until I had to drop Canyon off with her.

  No one knows the truth about Canyon, and no one ever will. But even this dumbass club knowing I had a sister was too much for me. Her name was to be kept out of their mouths, or I’d break their jaws so they couldn’t keep her name in it. That little girl was precious to me. More precious than anyone could ever imagine.

  Because she wasn’t my sister like I’d told everyone. I had lied to keep her safe.

  Canyon was really my daughter.

  I lunged up off my knees and nailed Blaze in his dick. He bent over, grabbing at himself and sinking to his own knees. My leg came up and nailed him in the nose and I felt it crack underneath the pressure.

  That was when he fell to the ground.

  I brought my boot back and kicked Blaze right in his gut. I heard him gasping for air as I reared my leg back, kicking him again as his ribs gave way. I kicked and I kicked, busting ribs and heel stomping his head into the ground. By the time I was done with that asshole, he was gonna know to keep Canyon’s name out of his fuckin’ mouth. Especially when it came to the vile, filthy bullshit he had just spilled.

  My daughter was ten fuckin’ years old.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  “Knox! Knox! Shit, man. Come on!”

  I heard Grave’s voice off in the distance as a pair of arms wrapped around my body.

  “Come on. We gotta get out of here,” Grave said. “Shit.”

  I heard the sound of sirens off in the distance and saw guys scattering all over the damn place. I took off after Grave, the blood on my boot leaving a trail behind me. Branches were smacking me in the face as we ran for the gas station, my legs carrying me as fast as I could possibly go.

  But the cops were already running after us, and we knew we had to hide if we had any chance of getting away from them.

  We all ducked down into holes and hid ourselves behind trees. We lined our steps up with the cops we could see as their flashlights whipped around the forest. I slowed my breathing down and crept silently like a snake, inching closer to our bikes as the gas station finally came into view.

  Then, when we thought the coast was clear, we made a mad dash for the parking lot.

  Everyone cleared out and I took one last look behind us. The last thing we needed was some fuckin’ priggish cops following us all the way back to our place. But before I could crank up my bike, I heard a voice behind me.

  And I knew I’d been caught.

  “Well if it isn’t Knox.”

  I gritted my teeth and turned my head as I kicked the stand up on my bike.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the cop said. I’d know his voice anywhere.

  “Officer Layton.”

  “What brings you out here this time of night?” he asked.

  “Just… hangin’ out,” I said.

  Officer Layton had it out for our club. He was always on our ass and I could sense he was enjoying himself right now. I knew I couldn’t outrun him. The cop cars were blaring their lights in the gas station parking lot, and they would chase me down until I ran out of gas. Running from them now made it risky to go anywhere. To my mom’s to check on Canyon. To the lodge to meet up with the guys. To my apartment that was supposed to be sacred. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and as the Officer Layton gazed down at my boot I saw him reach for his cuffs.

  “You’re under arrest,” the officer said.

  “What the hell for?” I asked.

  He grabbed my wrist and whipped it behind my body as I kicked the stand back down on my bike.

  He slapped the bracelets on me and yanked me off my bike. I watched someone come and wipe the blood off my boots before putting that shit in some fuckin’ evidence bag. I looked over towards the woods and saw some men emerging from them, carrying a massive black bag as they headed towards the ambulance.

  I felt the blood drain from my face as I watched them load the dead body into the back.

  “For the murder of Andrew Shepard,” the cop said.

  “Don’t know anyone by that name,” I said.

  “Figured you wouldn’t. But you might recognize his nickname.”

  “Oh really? And what’s his fun little nickname?” I asked.

  “Blaze,” the cop said. “The man’s name is Blaze.”

  Chapter 2

  Monroe

  “Welcome to your new office, Miss Williams. We weren’t sure how you would prefer it, so if you want anything changed around just put in a requisition form for it.”

  I set my bag down as I walked into the office with my name on it. The front desk receptionist was kind. She had a bright smile and a delicate demeanor, which was refreshing. I closed the door behind me and drew in a deep breath, taking in the lack of windows my office had. No natural light whatsoever despite the expansive space. Just a blaring light hanging over my head and two lamps perched in either corner my desk resided between.

  I walked over to my desk and ran my fingertips over the surface. It was sturdy, but still cheap. The ‘comfy’ office chair looked like it hadn’t been serviced in well over a decade, and when I sat down the air puffed out as if the chair itself was groaning underneath my weight. I opened all the empty drawers and coughed when the dust flew out.

  Could I requisition another office space in the building?

  This was my first real job out of law school and I was lucky to have it. Scott and Lowen Law Associates was the premier law firm in Redding, California. They had been looking to hi
re someone new and fresh to the game, which was code for ‘we’re tired as hell and we need someone to take the bulk of the load for us’. Which I was happy to do so long as it advanced my career.

  Though the office they gave me left much to be desired.

  Very much.

  As I sat back in my chair, I closed my eyes. My first day was simply to get settled and set up in my office. I didn’t have any appointments scheduled until my second day. Redding was very different from Austin. I’d grown up in Austin my entire life. Most people called me a city girl, but I was a small town girl at heart. The dustier and older, the better. Redding had a certain charm that Austin didn’t, and people here lived at a much slower pace. It was refreshing after college, because Baylor University was no joke.

  I passed the Bar Exam for California two weeks prior to applying for the position at Scott and Lowen Law Associates. They were impressed with my LSAT scores coming out of Baylor Law School, but they were even more impressed with the fact that I wanted to leave Austin for a city in a completely different state. I tried to show them how qualified I was for the position, but part of me thought they hired me simply because they were intrigued with why someone would want to leave Austin.

  But there were many personal reasons for that.

  I had wanted to leave home. Ever since I left for college, my dream was to never return back to Austin. I had nothing left there. There was nothing in that city for me but old memories that hurt too much. Playgrounds held too many happy memories that brought tears to my eyes and passing by my old homestead everyday made me sick to my stomach. I needed to go somewhere new and start fresh. I needed to create a new life for myself.

  That was why I applied for the position in Redding, California.

  That was the reason why I wanted to leave Austin.

  My father left when I was a kid. There wasn’t a huge fight or a shell-shocking reason for why he left. He simply… left. Nothing seemed off with my parents. We still had family dinners and talked around the fire. We still watched family movies and went and did things together on the weekends. I was nine when I woke up and saw him leaving for work. I remember him giving me a massive smile and kissing me on my forehead. He told me he loved me like he always did, then I walked him to his car and waved him off.