Diesel (Dead Souls MC Book 5) 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

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  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

  Diesel

  I didn’t want to admit it to any of their faces, but having families of their own did make them soft. I sat there with my phone in my hand as all the guys left the lodge, my mind spinning wildly. I knew what each of them were thinking, even though they didn’t come out and say it. Knox was stressed with all of this because he wanted it wrapped up before Monroe went into labor. Grave was on edge because Everly was probably giving him a hard time about being scared for her life because her brother was out on bail. Brewer was still recovering and wasn’t at full strength, which made him feel incapable of taking care of the woman and the little girl he promised to take care of.

  And Rock? Well, he was simply trying to keep his newfound family together.

  I closed my eyes and blocked them from my mind. It never shut off. It never shut down. My mind never stopped analyzing people in front of me. The way they talked. The way they sat. The way they jiggled their leg and the way their hands were callused. It told me so many things about that person. The dog hairs on their leather jackets or the hickies on their necks. The way someone drummed their fingers or the cheek they decided to chew on. Hell, even the way their eyes darted whenever they recalled a story to tell me.

  It all served a purpose, and it all served to paint an accurate picture of the person standing in front of me.

  That was why this thing with Mick hit me as hard as it did. I personally groomed Mick for our club. I completely trusted him. I personally introduced him to the guys. I vouched for him. My entire reputation had been slaughtered by this weaselly, greedy little asshole. And now I felt as if I couldn’t trust my own gut.

  I felt as though I had something to prove to my club. As their President, as their friend, and as the guy that brought Mick aboard, I had a fucking mess to clean up.

  But I knew it would come at a price.

  I hadn’t spoken with the President of the Black Hornets in a few years. Even though we both lived in Redding, I made sure to keep my distance. Dean and I were on good terms, but they were a rough group. Loyal to their core, but tough as fucking nails. Even for my standards, they rode a line I never dreamed of toeing. They were muscle for hire, and usually the clean-up crew that everyone called to get them out of tough situations.

  I knew if I called him for a favor of this magnitude, there would be a price to pay I’d have to shoulder. Because I sure as hell wasn’t saddling that price on the men in my club who now all had families.

  We needed the muscle for whatever Rex had planned next. We needed the brotherhood, to help us heal after one of our own ratted on us. And a friendly reunion between the two clubs was in order anyway. What better way to bring about a reunion than killing someone that both clubs hated?

  I opened my contacts and scrolled through my phone until I reached Dean’s number.

  I stood there, staring at the screen of my phone. And my mind flew back to Brynn. That beautiful young girl with so much life ahead of her. My heart stopped in my chest as my finger hovered over the phone. She had been vibrant. Beautiful. Full of life and laughter and a light I could never get to shine in my own life. I wondered if she’d still be poking her head in shit that didn’t concern her if she were still alive.

  I wondered if her and I would still be together if she hadn’t died.

  Back in high school, we hadn’t been much. Just a couple of teenage kids stealing quick fucks in the stairwell to relieve stress during exam weeks. But that young girl had been beautiful. Long, flowing red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. A broad smile that knocked me off my feet and petite little lips that unleashed and filled any room with the incredible sound of her laughter. I had been taken by Brynn. By Dean’s daughter.

  Until she died.

  I still couldn’t think about it without getting angry.

  Contacting Dean would open up all those old wounds. I knew it would. But that was the downfall of my character. A father was always supposed to protect his family, and Dean failed Brynn. His daughter died because of his own fucking negligence with his own fucking club, and we all paid the price for it. Dean. His club. Me. And most importantly, Brynn.

  The entire damn town paid for his negligence.

  I couldn’t think about Brynn without getting sick to my stomach. Even though she was a warm place to seat my cock, I would’ve given that woman anything. All she had to do was bat those fucking eyelashes of hers and I would’ve caved. Her death was the reason I studied what I did. Became who I was. Her death triggered within me a want to know everything racing through the minds of everyone around me. I studied human behavior and devoured books on body language. I told myself that whoever was under my care--no matter where I ended up--would always be safe with me. They’d be safe from harm before it ever fucking began because I’d know it was coming.

  I’d see it in the eyes of my enemy.

  Her life was ended by a fucking shootout. How the hell had Dean not seen a fucking shootout coming for his lodge?

  And why the hell had Brynn--a fucking teenage girl--been there in the first place?

  There were so many questions I’d never have answers to.

  I wasn’t there the night it happened. I was a prospect for the Black Hornets at the time, and I was fixing one of their bikes. I only found out about the shootout because I was heading back to the lodge, and I saw the ambulance cart off Brynn. I had felt my heart plummet to my stomach. I raced behind the ambulance to the hospital but once I got there, Dean wouldn’t let me see her. He wouldn’t let anyone see her. I waited there all night, praying that she would be alright. I watched in anger as full members of the Black Hornets went back to see Brynn, but each time I asked to see her, Dean said no. I was just about to force myself back there, when he grabbed onto me and told me she had died.

  My finger touched down onto Dean’s number and I stomached my memories. Stomached the sound of cellos playing at Brynn’s funeral. Stomached the snapshot pictures of her casket being lowered into her grave. Stomached the pictures and the flowers and the useless comments and condolences tossed my way haphazardly from those who knew I had been fucking around with her.

  What I wouldn’t have given to trade places with her.

  “Diesel?”

  “Hey there, Dean.”

  “The hell you doing calling my phone?” he asked.

  “If you don’t know, then I’ve done a damn good job of covering my tracks,” I said.

  “The fuck you gotten into now, boy?”

  “I was hoping you’d set up a meeting with me so we could discuss all of that,” I sai
d. “The Dead Souls have been put into a spot where we need some muscle.”

  “Well, we got plenty of that,” he said. “What do you need the muscle for?”

  “For Rex.”

  The silence on the other end of the line told me Dean hadn’t forgotten him.

  “Fuckin’ hell, that piece of shit is causing trouble again? I’m glad you called, Diesel. It’s been a while.” I could hear the tightness in his voice. He hated Rex just as much as I did.

  “It’s been a hell of a past few years,” I said.

  “You don’t gotta tell me that shit,” Dean said. “When and where do you wanna meet?”

  “This meeting’s off the books. You familiar with Tunnel Canyon?”

  “Hell yeah, I am,” he said. “Middle of the road?”

  “Just past sunset,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

  “It’ll be good to see you again, Diesel”

  I wish I could tell that man the same sentiment.

  “See you then, Dean,” I said.

  Then I hung up the phone and prepared myself for the meeting ahead. It would be the first time I looked that man square in his face since Brynn’s funeral. And my only hope was that I could control my tongue long enough to set this shit up for my club.

  Because the safety of them and their families was paramount to any residual anger I held over the death of the woman I’d loved.

  Well, loved as much as I could as a damn seventeen-year old.

  Chapter 2

  Brynn

  “Damn it, Brynn. We did it this way for a reason,” my father yelled into the phone.

  “And it’s been ten years, Dad. Ten years since all of that happened. You mean to tell me that gang is still fucking around after ten years?”

  “Language.”

  “Really? I learned it from you, Dad.”

  “Never said I was perfect. But Brynn, I sent you to the best culinary school in the country. And you want to come back to Redding to open a damn restaurant?” he asked.

  “I want to come home, Daddy. I miss my home.”

  “It’s not safe for you here. You know this. I’ve given you plenty of damn money to go anywhere you could ever want.”

  “I could put in some hours at the bar.”

  “Hell no, you’re not,” he said. “I didn’t put you through tens of thousands of dollars of culinary school to fucking put you in a damn bar kitchen,” he said.

  “Then I’ll open up my own place. Redding could use a little bit of the class and sass I’ve learned over the years.”

  “Brynn--”

  “Daddy, there’s something you’re not telling me. So, I need you to either unload it or accept this next step of my life.”

  “This club went to a lot of trouble to fake your death and get you out of town. And so much has happened, Brynn.”

  “Then try to give me a rundown. Otherwise, I’m coming home,” I said.

  I heard my father sigh on the other end of the line and I knew it wasn’t good. Whatever was going on, it had kicked up dust for him. My father was the strongest man I knew. Took shit and gave shit and never asked for shit. I knew he didn’t approve, but I was coming home whether he wanted me to or not. It had been ten years. There was no way in hell--

  “I think Rex is causing trouble with a fellow club,” my father said.

  My blood froze in my veins at the sound of that name.

  “So, he is still around,” I said.

  “I’ll know more later on tonight. We haven’t heard much from him over the last couple of years, but I just got a call. I think he’s now begun terrorizing a fellow club and they need our help. You can’t come home right now, Brynn. It isn’t safe.”

  “What fellow club?” I asked.

  “Princess--”

  My mind fell to Diesel, the boy I’d left behind in my father’s quest to keep me safe. Rex had terrorized Redding. Diesel and I’s hometown. We went to high school together. Had sort of a fling together. Well, it might’ve been a fling for him. But it sure as hell wasn’t for me. I gave my virginity to that boy. I gave myself over fully to his grasp and his kiss and his touch. I loved Diesel as much as a seventeen-year old girl could love a seventeen-year old boy.

  “Daddy, I want to come home,” I said.

  “You can’t. I forbid it.”

  “No offense, but I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve garnered as much experience in Los Angeles cooking as a sous chef as I’m going to get. I’m ready to open my own restaurant. I’ve saved up for it and have already been approved for a business loan.”

  “You can go anywhere. Why the hell would you want to come back to Redding? Or anywhere near this place again? Why would you throw away everything I did to keep you safe?”

  “Because there’s no place like home, Daddy. I hardly see you. I’m tired of surviving off phone calls and money dumped into my account. I want Christmases. I want to go tree hunting with you like we used to. I want to hang decorations and cook you a massive Thanksgiving dinner. Daddy, I want to celebrate my birthday with you again.”

  “I have to keep you safe, princess,” he said.

  “Then you’ll have to keep me safe in Redding, because I’m coming home,” I said.

  “Didn’t you hear me? Rex is running around again. We’re about to meet up with Diesel and the--”

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  My father fell silent as my heart stopped in my chest.

  “What. Did you just say?” I asked harshly.

  “Brynn…”

  “I’m getting on the first fucking flight home if you don’t tell me what the fuck--”

  “Diesel’s the President of the Dead Souls now, Brynn.”

  All of the breath rushed from my lungs as tears flooded my eyes.

  “You don’t think--?”

  “Brynn, this is all so convoluted, I doubt it has anything to do with the fling you and Diesel had in high school,” my father said. “But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that this is personal. All of it is. And the second you descend into fucking Redding airspace, I can’t promise I’m going to be able to protect you. There’s too much, and not enough at the same damn time with this.”

  But the only thing my mind focused on was Diesel. Was he in trouble? Was he in over his head? Holy hell, he’d pledged with the Dead Souls?

  He was President?

  “I’m coming home,” I said with a whisper.

  “Brynn, you can’t. I forbid it. Do you hear me? Brynn!?”

  But I hung up the phone instead of answering my father. I sat down on the couch as my phone rang, time and time again before it constantly got shot to voice mail. I put my face in my hands as memories assaulted my brain. Visions of Diesel walking down the hallway, looming with that sharp swagger of his. He was tan and chiseled with muscle, even as a teenager. His thick head of dark brown hair and his brooding brown eyes that always held my gaze from across the room.

  I was his before he even left his mark on me, and there wasn’t a night that went by that I didn’t dream of him.

  I drew in a deep breath as tears filled my eyes. That was it. I was going home. I knew the risk I was taking. I knew there was a chance Rex would lash out the second he knew I wasn’t dead. Then again, there was a chance many of them would lash out once they figured out I wasn’t dead. But ever since my father faked my death, he had dedicated his entire world to keeping me safe. What started out as a just Rex attempting to get my attention, quickly turned into something much more dangerous.

  He sent me love notes all the damn time while his stupid friends terrorized my father’s club. Love notes talking about how beautiful my flowing red hair was in the sunlight and how peaceful I looked when I slept. How he couldn’t wait to take me away from Redding. After that note, my father got more over protective.

  The shootout that happened turned into something my father used. The Black Hornets helped my father fake my death, complete with a burial and a funeral. It protected me from Rex, gave them ammunition to
go after his gang until all of them were chased out of town, and gave me the freedom to live my life without having to look over my shoulder all the fucking time. Though apparently chasing Rex out didn’t work so well.

  Despite the threat of Rex still being there, I missed home. I missed the smell of Redding and the forest surrounding it. I missed the revving of motorcycles and the stale smell of the club’s bar. I missed seeing my father’s smile and feeling his arms wrapped around me.

  Faking my death meant I hadn’t seen him in ten years.

  I understood the risk I was taking, but what my father didn’t understand was that I could take care of myself. If I wasn’t in school or working, I was training in self-defense. Learning how to shoot a range of guns. Hell, I usually carried one on my hip and one at my ankle at all fucking times. I learned how to fight with a knife and how to spar in a ring. I took on karate and jiu-jitsu and kickboxing. Any form of fighting I could get my hands on to make myself feel safe again.

  Despite all of the threats and all of the anger and all of the anxiety, I missed my home. I missed its sunrises and its sunsets. I missed its familiar sounds and its quiet evenings. I missed my father. I missed celebrating holidays with family. I missed the raucous laughter of the Black Hornets.

  But most of all, I missed Diesel.

  If I was lucky enough to run into him, I prayed he didn’t hate me for actually being alive.

  Chapter 3

  Diesel

  The guys and I rode into Tunnel Canyon, a three-mile stretch of land that sat in between two massive clay mountains. It was the darkest spot in all of Redding, and it was the best place to hear people both coming and going. All motorcycle clubs in and around the area knew of that place. The halls of those mountains held secrets beyond anyone’s wildest imaginations. Quality control and control of outside influences with regard to this meeting were imperative, so it only made sense that the meeting would be conducted in the one place where both could be easily controlled.

  My club and I rolled up on our bikes and came face to face with The Black Hornets.