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

Page 6


  “Anyone know where Piper is?”

  “She’s coming. Five minutes out.”

  “I don’t know if this man’s got five minutes.”

  “He’s stronger than you think. He just wanted his entire crew get slaughtered,” I said.

  Diesel quirked an eyebrow. “So, the Night Outlaws are dead?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Except for Cage. And he’s being hunted by the man who wants them dead.”

  “And you wanted us to bring him into our lodge because…?”

  That sure as hell wasn’t my question to answer. But I wasn’t sure Cage was in the right mindset to answer it.

  “Are you going to answer?” Diesel asked.

  “I would if the question weren’t personal to the man on your pool table,” I said coolly.

  His eye twitched before he turned his back to me. He walked around to Cage’s front, then dipped down as I stood there. The cloth the man held to Cage’s back was soaked with blood much quicker than I wanted it to be. My heart sank as I watched him. As I watched his skin pale and his breathing become ragged.

  I slowly stepped forward, placing my hand softly on his thigh as I stood behind him.

  The man by my side worked quickly as the door flew open again. I turned around and saw one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen walking through those doors. She hauled medical equipment. An I.V. steel pole. Sterilized needles, mounds of gauze, and bottles of iodine.

  “Get his coat off. And his shirt. We need to move quickly,” she said.

  My eyes slid over the gorgeous woman, taking in her thick curves before she walked over to the hulking mass of destruction that helped carry Cage to the pool table. The two of them kissed, and the large man thanked her for getting there so quickly. I heard her call him “Rock,” and it suited him well. Because he was massive. Chiseled from sheer granite with the dark, hard, stoic gaze to match his nickname.

  “Come with me,” one of the men said.

  I felt someone’s hands on my upper arms slowly guide me away from Cage. I reached out for him, too tired to fight but still not wanting to be away from his side. Something cool came down onto my arm and I looked down, taking in the cold wash rag cleaning off the blood on my forearms.

  “I’m Brewer. And you’re going to have to let them work,” he said.

  I slowly looked up into his eyes as Cage cried out in pain. My head whipped over, and I saw that thick, gorgeous woman working quickly. Within seconds, she had the bullet out of Cage’s body. She dropped it onto the pool table before her hands moved like lightning. Tears dripped down my cheeks. As the man named “Brewer” cleaned me down, I watched on helplessly as his woman—who was obviously a medical professional of some sort—inject something into Cage’s back. He settled down, breathing unevenly but no longer crying out in pain.

  Then, Diesel leveled his eyes with Cage.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  I panicked as Brewer continued cleaning off my arms.

  “I had to—find you. Because of--my--.”

  Cage groaned as Piper began stitching him up, and I didn’t like how pale he had become.

  “Your father’s dead?” Diesel asked.

  I drew in a shaking breath as Cage nodded.

  “Our father’s dead,” he said breathlessly.

  Diesel paused. “What?”

  Cage coughed. “I’m your—”

  He roared out in pain before Piper shook her head, then stabbed him with another needle.

  “He needs way too much of this. I’m not going to have enough to fully numb him up,” she said.

  “Just do what you can,” Rock said.

  “Did you say ‘our?’” Diesel asked.

  Cage drew in a shaking breath as his body shook.

  “Cage!” I exclaimed.

  “I’m your—brother,” Cage choked out.

  Then, as if the heavens finally granted him a bit of peace, I watched him pass out.

  “Cage! No!” I exclaimed.

  “Keep her back. I need to work,” Piper said.

  “No! Let—let go of me, you—fuck! Let go!” I yelled.

  “I’ll throw you out of this damn lodge if you keep up that racket,” Diesel said curtly.

  I snarled at him, pulling away from Brewer as Piper flickered her gaze over to Diesel.

  “Remind you of anyone?” she asked, grinning.

  “At least Brynn’s toned down,” he murmured.

  “Who the fuck is Brynn?” I asked.

  “My fucking wife,” Diesel said curtly.

  Then, all eyes were on me as Cage laid there on the pool table. Smelling of blood, iodine, and out cold while Piper worked to stitch him up and get him back in working order.

  “So, anyone gonna ask her whether or not it’s true?” Rock asked.

  Diesel’s eyes narrowed at me, and it registered how mean he looked. He had anger in his eyes and a downturn to his lips. He looked so much more like Cage in person than he had in that picture I found back in Patch’s house. The strong jawline with the rugged stubble that had grown out on his face made him not only look like the man I cared about, but it made him look mean. He was tall. Strong. With his fists clenched at his sides. He slowly grew in front of me, standing to his feet as he kept my eyes connected with his.

  The man looked like he’d put me down in a second if he thought there was any sort of nefarious purpose going on. Which was why I was petrified to tell him it was my father that killed Cage’s crew.

  I wasn’t ready to die at the hands of him, nor was I ready to die at the hands of my father.

  Please have Patch’s understanding demeanor.

  “Did he say what I think he just said? That… he’s my brother?” Diesel asked.

  And while I didn’t think it was my place to give answers, I slowly nodded my head. Because honestly?

  I was afraid what would happen to me if I didn’t.

  9

  Cage

  The pain hit me like a rocket launcher to the back. I smoothed my head over a pillow I didn’t recognize, in a bed that smelled as unfamiliar as the dryness in my mouth. I licked my lips with the sandpaper of my tongue as I drew in a deep breath, attempting to press myself up. But the second I girded my arms, lightning shot through my system.

  “Sh—fu—”

  I couldn’t even get words out. As my face fell back to the pillow, I blinked. Trying to get my bearings on the room I was in. I didn’t recognize a damn thing, and it was hard to remember what had happened. In fact, I didn’t have any memory of it. Not after I skidded the bike into the dust.

  Wait. Was this the lodge?

  Where was Sutton?

  I rolled over onto my side, pushing through the pain. And as I did, the room slowly came into view. I saw a shadowed figure slumped over in a chair and every part of me was on high alert. Until I heard that cute little mumble. The small moments of sleep talking Sutton was prone to having whenever she slept. The few times I’d stayed the night with her, I heard it. After she fell asleep against me, with her hair splayed out over my chest. I would run my fingers through it while she sighed and mumbled, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

  I smiled as my eyes focused on her. Watching her sleep. And I smiled to myself.

  She stayed. She didn’t drop me and run. She didn’t abandon me at all. She stayed, even after her father’s men shot at us. Even though they knew where we were. Maybe I was wrong to have judged Sutton so quickly. Maybe she hadn’t picked a side when she defended her father.

  Maybe this was her picking a side now.

  “Morning.”

  I twitched at the voice and moved my head over to the door frame. Diesel stood there with a stern look on his face and a frown that looked identical to my father’s. I cleared my throat as Sutton jerked awake. I looked over at her as her eyes widened, then she stumbled over to me and dropped to the edge of the bed.

  “Cage. You’re awake. Hey there. How are you feeling?” she asked.

 
I cleared my throat again. “I’m—I’m fine. I’m—okay.”

  “You gave us all a scare there,” she said.

  Her hand slid through my hair, brushing it away from my face as she stared down at me. She looked haggard. Tired. Her hair was mussed and there was sleep crusted at the corners of her eyes. Her lips were chapped as well, and her skin looked like it was still dirty from the dust yesterday. I leaned myself up and she wrapped her arms around me, helping me until I was in an upright position. Until my bare feet settled onto the hardwood floors of the room we were in.

  Come to think of it, I wasn’t wearing socks, either. Or my leather cut. Or my belt.

  Or my fucking pants.

  I furrowed my brow. “Where are my clothes?”

  “I tossed them over the back of the chair on the other side of the room. I figured you wouldn't sleep well in restrictive clothes,” Sutton said.

  “You undressed me.”

  “She did,” Diesel said.

  Sutton and I looked over at the doorway, then I watched her worried eyes find mine. I lifted my hand, forcing myself not to grimace at the pain. I cupped her cheek, watching her nuzzle into it. Then, I brought her forehead to my lips to kiss.

  “Thank you. For everything,” I whispered.

  She nodded against my lips, then stood from the bed. She looked over at Diesel and shot him a glaring death stare, then turned back toward me. She smiled and winked, like she had some sort of secret up her sleeve. Then, she stretched her arms high above her head until her back popped into place.

  “Oh, that felt nice. I’m going to freshen up. You boys play nice,” she said.

  And as I chuckled at her, jumping the stitches in my back, she left the room. Leaving Diesel and I to stare at one another in silence.

  “How long?” I asked groggily.

  “Morning of the next day,” Diesel said.

  “Thank you. To whoever stitched me up and put me here.”

  “I’ll let Piper and the guys know.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Diesel pushed off the doorway and finally walked into the room. He pulled the chair Sutton had fallen asleep in toward me, then sat down in front of me. He leveled his eyes with me as he leaned back. Spreading his legs and posturing, like a president of a club like this usually would. My father had never been one for posturing, unless he sensed a threat of some sort.

  Did Diesel see Sutton and myself as a threat?

  “What’s going on?” Diesel asked.

  “A lot,” I said gruffly.

  He waved his hand in the air. “No jokes. Start from the beginning. How the fuck did you end up on our doorstep with people shooting at you?”

  I sighed. I couldn't give him all the information because some of it wasn’t mine to give up in the first place. I couldn't tell him who Sutton’s father was. I could tell him who was chasing me, supposedly. But not how Sutton was related to all this. I didn’t feel it was my place to divulge information like that about her life to these guys. Especially since I wasn’t sure how they’d react.

  It was still my job to protect her.

  It always would be, so long as she was at my side.

  “Well, Sutton’s my…”

  I looked over toward the empty doorway and saw her down the hallway. She stood at the end of it, surrounded by women as they talked with her. One of them handed her a mug of coffee. The other offered her some toast. I licked my lips, wanting something to drink as the girls whisked Sutton out of my view.

  “Girlfriend? Fiancé? Fuck toy?” Diesel asked.

  I whipped my head over to him. “Don’t you dare call her that again.”

  “Well, at least you care about her. Got it. So, how does she wrap up in all this?”

  “She didn’t want me coming to find you alone. That’s how.”

  Diesel nodded slowly. “You said something about being my brother last night. I don’t believe you.”

  “Can’t see the family resemblance?” I asked, grinning.

  “Start talking or start packing.”

  I sighed. “My fath—our father was the president of the Night Outlaws. A new crew back in Nevada he started a few months back. We weren’t big. We didn’t have a trade other than gambling rings. We fell into a very lucrative string of games, but it came at a big price for us. A man by the name of Lars Norden ran those games out of casinos he frequently skimmed for his own nefarious purposes. And in the process of us winning at all his games, he lost a great deal of profit to our little crew.”

  “So, he eliminated the competition.”

  “With a series of bullets, yes.”

  “I take it your father was killed that night?”

  “Our father, yes. And his dying words were to come find you. Diesel. The president of the Dead Souls,” I said.

  He nodded slowly. “Uh huh.”

  “I know it sounds insane. But—”

  “This man. Lars. He the one who sent the men after you to gun you down? Gun you both down?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Yes. We got out in the middle of the night, but somehow, he knew we were headed here. I’m not sure how much he knows. I found out a lot of shit the night my father died about my family and how… involved he really was with my life.”

  “You know I’m gonna ask you to explain.”

  “I’m concerned if I do, you’ll toss us out on our asses.”

  “I might. I have a crew with women and children to protect. You’ll have to take your chances,” he said.

  I closed my eyes. “Apparently, when I was younger, our father used to work for Lars. Pretty closely with him as well. There was insinuation that Lars wanted his hands on my mother, and my father stood up to him. Told him ‘no,’ that my mother was his wife and no one else’s property to touch. Lars didn’t like that, so he staged my mother’s death to make it look like an accident. And soon after that, my father stopped working for Lars. Got out and tried to make a life for himself after my mother died.”

  “How do you know all this?” Diesel asked.

  I opened my eyes. “Because Lars admitted it all as our father gurgled on his own blood in my arms.”

  I watched the man assess me. His eyes ran up and down my body, no doubt clocking my nonverbal language. I sighed as I sat there. I had no more energy to talk about any of this shit. If the man was going to help us and accept us, he could make that decision based on the information I’d just given him. Because all I wanted to do was lay back down and go the fuck to sleep.

  “What was your father’s name?” Diesel asked.

  “Real name or nickname?” I asked.

  “Both.”

  “Michael Ransky. Also known as ‘Patch.’ Because he refused to fucking buy new clothes, and instead patched up the ones he had until they were nothing but tatters. Man was as fucking frugal as they came. Always told him he had a complex about it,” I said.

  Diesel’s face dropped in shock and I knew I had him. He stood from the chair, holding his arm out for him. I clamped down onto it, feeling his large hand wrap around my forearm. And when he pulled me up, he pulled me straight into a hug. A massive hug that felt like my father’s. Smelled like my father’s. Was warm like my father’s.

  I had to work to keep my wits about me. To keep the tears from flooding again as Diesel clapped my back softly.

  “I only ever knew my father’s name,” Diesel murmured.

  “Then, I have a lot to tell you,” I said.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Diesel pulled back and I looked over toward the door. There was a cute little woman standing there. Bigger. With bright red lips, blonde hair, and sparkling eyes. She had a little button nose and squared-off shoulders. No doubt one of the women that belonged to one of the men of this crew.

  “Piper. I take it you’re coming to check on your patient,” Diesel said.

  “Yep. Now, off with that shirt of yours,” she said.

  “I usually make someone buy me dinner first,” I said, grinning.

  Diese
l chuckled. “A jokester. Was Father—”

  I slowly looked over at him and nodded.

  “All the fucking time. Almost to a point where it was inappropriate.”

  “I’d like to hear some stories later,” he said.

  “You’ll get all of them you want if there’s bacon out there,” I said.

  Diesel grinned. “I’ll have Knox get on it. Piper?”

  “Still waiting for his shirt to come off,” she said, grinning.

  I grunted and groaned as I eased my shirt off. Then, the small woman came over and sat me back down onto the bed. She knelt behind me and worked quickly, peeling back gauze and cleaning up the stitches. She worked with delicate grace. With precision. With speed. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath feeling her pressing down onto some swollen and probably bruised areas.

  “All right. Looks pretty good after a night of sleep. I’m going to give you another round of preventative antibiotics to stave off something worse that might happen. You can take it with your coffee or juice or whatever you’re going to have with your bacon,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  “No, no. I mean, thank you. For everything. For last night. For saving my life.”

  She slid off the bed before she peeked over at me, smiling with a very bright smile.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re doing better. You gave us all a scare last night. I damn near thought you’d lost too much blood for me to work on you on that pool table,” Piper said.

  My eyebrows rose. “Pool table?”

  She shrugged. “Best we could do in a pinch. Don’t worry, everything I used was thoroughly sterilized.”

  “So, you’re a doctor?”

  “A nurse. So, essentially? I do all the work.”

  She winked at me and it made me chuckle. Until the pain made me wince.

  “You’ll be tender for a while. But in a week, you should feel exponentially better. Though, the stitches will have to stay in for at least two weeks,” Piper said.

  “Duly noted, Nurse Piper,” I said.

  She nodded and left the room, leaving me to get dressed. And as I slid my clothes off with grunts and groans, I wondered what would become of Sutton and myself. Diesel knew everything. He knew my crew had been wiped out. He knew we were on the run, and he knew there were people shooting at us. Wanting us dead. He knew we needed help and shelter at this point, which meant Diesel would probably call a church meeting with his guys to discuss it.

 

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