Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5 Read online

  Dead Souls MC: Prospects Box Set

  Savannah Rylan

  Contents

  Cage

  1. Cage

  2. Sutton

  3. Cage

  4. Sutton

  5. Cage

  6. Sutton

  7. Cage

  8. Sutton

  9. Cage

  10. Sutton

  11. Cage

  12. Sutton

  13. Cage

  14. Sutton

  15. Cage

  16. Sutton

  17. Cage

  18. Sutton

  19. Cage

  20. Sutton

  21. Cage

  22. Sutton

  23. Cage

  24. Sutton

  Bear

  1. Bear

  2. Margot

  3. Bear

  4. Margot

  5. Bear

  6. Margot

  7. Bear

  8. Margot

  9. Bear

  10. Margot

  11. Bear

  12. Margot

  13. Bear

  14. Margot

  15. Bear

  16. Margot

  17. Bear

  18. Margot

  19. Bear

  20. Margot

  21. Bear

  22. Margot

  23. Bear

  24. Margot

  25. Bear

  Saint

  1. Saint

  2. Amberly

  3. Saint

  4. Amberly

  5. Saint

  6. Amberly

  7. Saint

  8. Amberly

  9. Saint

  10. Amberly

  11. Saint

  12. Amberly

  13. Saint

  14. Amberly

  15. Saint

  16. Amberly

  17. Saint

  18. Amberly

  19. Saint

  20. Amberly

  21. Saint

  22. Amberly

  23. Saint

  24. Amberly

  25. Saint

  Ryker

  1. Ryker

  2. Kaylynn

  3. Ryker

  4. Kaylynn

  5. Ryker

  6. Kaylynn

  7. Ryker

  8. Kaylynn

  9. Ryker

  10. Kaylynn

  11. Ryker

  12. Kaylynn

  13. Ryker

  14. Kaylynn

  15. Ryker

  16. Kaylynn

  17. Ryker

  18. Kaylynn

  19. Ryker

  20. Kaylynn

  21. Ryker

  22. Kaylynn

  23. Ryker

  24. Kaylynn

  25. Ryker

  Toxin

  1. Toxin

  2. Natasha

  3. Toxin

  4. Natasha

  5. Toxin

  6. Natasha

  7. Toxin

  8. Natasha

  9. Toxin

  10. Natasha

  11. Toxin

  12. Natasha

  13. Toxin

  14. Natasha

  15. Toxin

  16. Natasha

  17. Toxin

  18. Natasha

  19. Toxin

  20. Natasha

  21. Toxin

  22. Natasha

  23. Toxin

  24. Natasha

  25. Toxin

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  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 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.

  Created with Vellum

  Cage

  1

  Cage

  The smell of smoke and black powder residue hung in the air. Those fucking bullets whizzed by my head as I looked around for my father. I heard him screaming. Calling out for his men. And while I was a new prospect for the Night Outlaws, I had no idea my father would get me into this kind of shit. Some shootout between us and some asshole mobster who didn’t like the fact that we encroached on his turf.

  Then again, my father did warn me.

  “Scar! Lannie! Go left! I’m comin’ ‘round the back. Cage!”

  “Yeah, Pops!?” I exclaimed.

  “We need a distraction,” my father said.

  I rolled my eyes and leaned my head against the brick of the building. Of course, he needed a fucking distraction. All I did nowadays was distract. Grunt work. Sure, I was a fucking prospect. The newest guy of the group. That didn’t mean I had to push around paper and fetch their fucking coffee. Bunch of prissy assholes, if anyone asked me about it. My father included.

  And lately, my father had been on edge.

  “On my count!” my father roared.

  I looked over at him as bullets continued to pepper the air.

  “I see you!” Lars roared.

  “One!” my father exclaimed.

  Another round of bullets surged down the alleyway as Lars’ footsteps came closer.

  “Two!” my father roared.

  “I’m coming for you, Cage!” Lars exclaimed.

  My father stopped counting as his eyes widened, and I froze. Fuck. Did Lars know? Was that why he was shooting at us? Trying to gun us down?

  To get to me?

  “Anyone gonna say three?” Lars asked, chuckling.

  And the second I heard the click of his empty magazine; I rounded the corner.

  “Lars! Stop!” my father exclaimed.

  But my gun was already in the air.

  My vision tunneled and all I could see was Lars. The scar that ran down his face. That salt-and-pepper blonde hair that looked absolutely horrendous on a man that had acne scars in his fifties. His tailored suit was covered in the blood of his men. Men that died in vain without anyone having known their names. That was what happened when people got tangled up with someone like Lars Norden. They died without identity. Without grace. Without honor, in my eyes.

  Because some asshole that skimmed casinos and trafficked humans didn’t deserve to live.

  I aimed the gun down at his feet and made him dance. I shot at those shiny leather shoes as my father cried out in the background. They were falling back, trying to navigate the alleyways of the casinos we’d become so familiar with. Lars jumped, and every time he did, his eyes ignited with fire. He stumbled with his magazines as I pulled my other gun, taking his men out by their knees.

  I didn’t want to kill the nameless faces. But I sure as hell didn’t want them charging me, either.

  “You’re a dead man,” Lars growled.

  I was close enough to hear his words. To smell his threat. I slowly walked toward him, blocking his view of the Night Outlaws as my father scrambled to try and get them in place. Lars thought he had blocked us in, especially because we were such a small crew. But being small meant we could get into places without being noticed. Because no one knew our faces. We hadn’t been operating long enough for the police to sink their detective-like jowls into us.

  And we knew the sewer system well.

  I heard the scraping of the grates as I continued dodging bullets. I kept my eyes locked on Lars and my ears trained on the men around them. I pressed the button on my guns to release the magazines, then slammed them down into ones poking out at my sides. And the second I cocked my gun, more iron buzzed through the air. I felt the wind of the bullets that missed me. I fe
lt the eyes of the men taking me in. Every cell, every detail. Committing all of it to memory.

  And putting her in even more danger.

  One by one, Lars’ men dropped to their knees. Blood splattered against walls and men gurgled on the alleyway water in puddles that had yet to dry from storms that rolled through weeks ago. Lars’ eyes connected with me, and I knew something was wrong the second he smiled at me. His gleaming white teeth dripped with venom that paused me in my tracks. And as his men knelt beside him, crying out in horror as I took out their kneecaps, I clicked my magazines out and jammed them into my sides.

  Taking up the last gun magazines I had on my hips.

  “It’s interesting, you know,” Lars said.

  I paused. “What is?”

  “The fact that you think you can win.”

  “Looks like you don’t have any more reinforcements,” I said.

  I pointed both of my guns at his face, but all he did was chuckle.

  “Did you really think I’d let your grimy little crew get their hands on my casinos?” Lars asked.

  “No clue what you’re talking about,” I said, grinning.

  And when Lars holstered his gun, my heart leapt in my chest. I was missing something. We all were. But I tried my best not to give away positions. I did my best not to look up on the rooftops at my father. At my brothers. At the men I’d come quickly to revere as family.

  “Did you really think your father could leave my side and do his own thing?” Lars asked.

  I paused. “What?”

  He chuckled. “Really? You know nothing of your childhood, do you?”

  “I know plenty.”

  “Including how your mother died?”

  I flinched. “Don’t you dare talk about my fucking mother.”

  “She was a beautiful woman, you know. Strong. Effervescent. The second I laid eyes on her… mm. Beauty wrapped up in silk.”

  I took a step toward Lars, daring him with my eyes to say one more thing about my fucking mother.

  “In the grand scheme of things, I hate that she had to go. Your father isn’t one for sharing. Even when it justifies the life of his family,” Lars said.

  “You—my mother died in an airplane crash,” I said.

  “Oh, I know. I rigged the plane.”

  My body teetered on its feet as the guns wavered in my hands.

  “What?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Oh, come on. That was two decades ago. Your father is a hard man to trace. Wasn’t really a fan of what I did once he found out. I guess he thought he could leave and do his own thing. Use my own codes and rules against me.”

  “My father… worked for you?”

  “You really should do better at keeping up,” Lars said, grinning.

  My mind spun as I grew sick to my stomach. Weak in my knees. My hearing spiraled as sounds sizzled and popped for no good reason. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest as images of my mother bombarded my mind. Her long blonde hair. Those big green eyes that sang me to sleep every night. I could still feel her cool hand against my head with every fever that raged. I could still feel her soft breast against my forehead with every cradle she afforded me.

  “Mom,” I whispered.

  “Such a lost little boy, and yet your father is the one that’s kept you in the dark all this time. If he simply would have stayed at my side like a good little boy, maybe your mother would be alive today. Who knows, really,” Lars said.

  “But you said—”

  “Ah, I wanted your mother. Sure. Though, she said ‘no’ on many occasions. It’s a word I find most women don’t believe themselves once they feel the touch of a real man. I figured beating the shit out of your father was recompense enough for not turning her over when I asked for her. But it was him leaving that triggered her death,” he said.

  “You killed my mother,” I growled.

  I shoved the barrel of the gun all the way into the man’s head. Though, his laughter was unnerving. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. They were dead. Cold. Black as night, with no remorse for the words falling from his lips.

  “It’s funny. I would have thought you would have looked up by now. You know, to figure out where your guys are,” Lars said.

  My hand trembled as my eyes slowly gazed up to the buildings my father commanded them to be on. And what I saw was forever etched into my memory.

  All three of my father’s men dangled over the sides. Dripping with blood, their eyes wide. Dead. Every prospect my father had ever brought on before I finally persuaded him to let me join the Night Outlaws. Scar, Lannie, and Brutus. I watched Lars’ men dangle them over the edge before dropping their bodies, their throats slit as they crumbled all around me. It literally rained down men, and when their bones dropped to the ground? The resounding crack forced bile up the back of my fucking throat.

  “Now, for that father of yours,” Lars sneered.

  My father struggled as two men brought him up behind me. I whipped around, my guns slowly falling down to my sides as I watched them drag him all the way up to me. Two massive men I didn’t recognize, shrouded in black with the deadest stare in their eyes. My father’s eyes ignited with fire behind the swelling. The ligature marks around his neck made me itch and lust for blood. I’d slaughter them. I’d kill them all before demanding answers from my father.

  The two men kicked my father’s legs out from underneath me, kneeling him at my feet.

  “Lars,” my father grunted.

  “Hello, Patch,” Lars said. “I was just filling your son in on his childhood. Care to weigh in at all?”

  My father’s eyes gravitated toward me, and that fire melted into sorrow. There was regret. Guilt. Anger. Sadness. An overwhelming sense of sadness that made my chest clench so tightly I thought it would cave in my sternum.

  “Is it true?” I asked.

  “Kill him, Cage,” my father said.

  I slowly looked over at Lars before I glanced back down at my father.

  “Did you really work for this man? Did he really kill Mom?” I asked.

  “Cage!” my father roared.

  “Answer the questions!” I exclaimed.

  Lars laughed, and I stuck my gun back in his face.

  “Shut up, or I’ll do as he asks,” I said.

  The mafioso held up his hands before my eyes fell back down to my father on his knees.

  “Is he telling the truth?” I asked.

  And when my father nodded, my entire world spiraled into an endless abyss.

  “What else aren’t you telling me?” I glowered.

  “Oh, I really should have some popcorn,” Lars said.

  “Silence!” I bellowed.

  “Like father like son, I suppose. Unable to follow orders and very willing to turn on those that provide him with life. Such a shame, really. I was hoping to recruit you,” Lars said.

  And before I could react, a gunshot rang out beside my ear.

  My father grunted as I pointed both of my guns at Lars. I took out his knees before pumping his stomach full of lead. I turned on the two men charging me from behind, putting one bullet in each of their heads. Direct shots before they dropped to the ground around us. Like they had dropped all three of my brothers.

  “Fall back. Fall back now,” Lars said breathlessly.

  And as the madman scrambled away, I fell to my knees beside my bleeding father.

  “Dad,” I whispered.

  “Son. Come… come here,” he choked out.

  I slid my arms underneath his and pulled him into the shadows. Away from the bodies and the tires that squealed to get away. Sirens sounded off in the distance. The glaring lights of the city cast glistening glares on the tears sliding down my cheeks. My father was bleeding quickly out of his stomach. Coughing up blood that sputtered in the air in front of him. He was dying. He knew it, and I knew it. And as I wrapped my arms around him, pressing down on the wound, his head fell against my shoulder.

  “You have to run,” he whispered.


  “I’m not leaving you,” I murmured.

  “The crew is done. There’s nothing for—for you.”

  He coughed, and the sound of him struggling to breathe pulled more tears down my cheeks.

  “Don’t cry. Don’t do it. Just—just listen,” he said.

  “Save your energy. I’m going to get you help,” I said.

  But as I stood to go, my father reached for my shirt. Tugged me back down with all his strength.

  “Find… your brother,” my father sputtered.