Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5

by Savannah Rylan

  “All sorts of things. My sense of fashion. My killing techniques. The way I eat soup. You know, the usual.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Did you just make a joke?”

  “Was it funny?”

  “Actually, yeah. It kind of was.”

  Phillip held out his hand, ushering me toward his office door. I picked up the silver tray and put it back on my shoulder, then straightened my back. I cracked my neck as he opened the door. He guided me back out onto the floor. And as he sent me off in one direction, he went off in another.

  With men giving him high-fives and wide smiles.

  Pigs.

  The night ran long. I was ready to have it over. The drinks poured and the food came out by the hundreds of pounds. It felt like the entire state of California decided to turn out for this thing. And I was sure it made my boss proud. He loved money. They all loved money, really. And the more money that got stuffed into my bras and tossed onto my tray for the evening made me feel better about things.

  Well, not completely better. But it helped overshadow where my mind kept trying to spiral.

  On my first fifteen-minute break of the night, I picked around at a plate of food Phillip brought me. On my second, though? I slipped into a back room and took a soft nap. Nights like this always ran long. Which meant I’d be here, easily, until four in the morning. I snapped awake with two minutes to spare. A cat-nap I’d practically perfected as a waitress-slash-eye-candy-hostess at the mafia’s casino.

  But as I went to head for my third fifteen-minute break, something caught my eye.

  The guards at the front door started murmuring to themselves. A couple of guards made their way from the back to the front. I furrowed my brow as I stood off to the side, trying to figure out what was going on. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a glimpse of what time it was. The clock on the wall was practically invisible. But I could have sworn it read a bit past midnight. No one pulled weapons. So, what the hell were the guards gathering for?

  Then, I saw him.

  A man walked between them before being handed his I.D. back. And as the man slipped them into his wallet, my lips parted in shock. Someone new. It had been weeks since someone new had come into this place. And wow, was this man ever hot.

  Especially those dark green eyes of his.

  His suit cut perfectly against his body. Navy blue with a crimson red button-front shirt and a navy blue skinny tie. His legs went on for days. His pants were cropped just slightly above his patent leather shoes. They were black. Dark. And as my eyes worked their way back up his body, I saw that his shoes matched his hair.

  Dark. Sleek. And shining for all to see.

  As his eyes scanned the room, the first thing that struck me about him was his confidence. His swagger. The way he carried himself. He slipped one hand into his pocket and let the other swing about while he walked. His raven black hair was long. Easily down past his ears. He had it slicked back with gel that made his lovely locks shine. But, when his head panned in my direction, our eyes connected.

  Those dark green orbs rooted me to my spot.

  My heart skipped a beat. I held my breath as his eyes lingered on me. Could he see me? I could’ve sworn I’d stepped into the shadows.

  Then, in a flash, his stare was gone.

  I let out the breath I was holding and slipped into the back room. I didn’t have much longer for my break, and I wanted to get off my feet. Blisters were already opening up, spewing liquid into my high, high heels. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, puffing out my cheeks with a long sigh.

  “Four more hours,” I whispered to myself.

  And I wondered if the new guy with the piercing stare might stay until we closed.

  3

  Toxin

  “Testing, one. Two. Can you hear me, Toxin?” Grave asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “I can hear you just fine.”

  “Have you gotten to the casino yet?”

  “I’m still a mile out. So, maybe don’t talk at me until I can get into a safe place. You know Lars’ men are always watching. Remember the hotel?”

  “Just one last thing. When you get in there, all you’re doing is recon. Trying to find out information. Slipping into rooms and digging through some shit. So, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  I grinned. “But I do attention so well.”

  “Don’t. Get. People’s. Attention.”

  I chuckled. “Then, you really shouldn't have put me in such a nice suit.”

  The guys cursed on the other end of the line and it made me laugh. I revved the engine of my bike as I soared toward the abandoned building rumored to house Lars’ underground casino below it. I didn’t come across many cars. In fact, there were very few cars to be spoken of. I saw a couple of Mercedes. Something that looked like a limo hanging out at the intersection.

  But other than that? There was nothing.

  “You sure you guys got the right place?” I asked.

  “Rock’s sure. Now, when you park your bike you need to go into the back entrance of the building. If you go in the front, you risk being flagged as a newbie and not being let in,” Grave said.

  “They’ll know I’m a newbie, anyway. They aren’t stupid.”

  “Yeah, but if you go in the back way the way everyone else goes, it’ll look like you’re at least part of that crowd. That people talk to you. That’s powerful sway in those groups.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I parked my bike in a dark alleyway, right beside the abandoned building. In case, you know, I needed to make a quick getaway. I pulled the pants out of my asshole as they rode up. Then, I shook out my legs. I wanted my jeans back. My worn, faded jeans and my t-shirts. Fucking hell, I hated suits.

  But even I couldn’t deny how good I looked in them.

  “Let us know when you’re in,” Grave said.

  “Will do, Mom.”

  He cursed in my ear and it made me chuckle. I slipped my hand into my pockets, then made my way around toward the back of the building. I saw the back entrance. I opened the door and slipped in, hoping my fake identification would be backed up by information Rock put on the internet. Because if they searched my name and address for any reason, there needed to be something out there for them to pull up.

  Otherwise, I was a dead man.

  “I miss my comfy pants,” I murmured.

  “You found the main door yet?” Grave asked.

  I walked down a flight of steps, following where my gut told me to go. I kept a grip on my wallet, trying to bleed some sort of truth into the I.D. it held. I drew in sobering breaths. I forced my heartbeat to stay steady. And after traveling down two flights of steps, I came to a door.

  Guarded by two massive men.

  “Evening, gentlemen,” I said, grinning.

  The guys moved directly in front of the door. “I.D.”

  “Got it right here.”

  I handed my I.D. to them and waited. On bated breath, really. I saw them looking at the I.D. Flashing a light over it. They turned it over and moved it around. Hell, they even bent the damn card. One of the guys looked at me with a quirked eyebrow and I felt myself posture. Readying myself for a fight.

  Then, one of the other guys spoke into an invisible intercom.

  “Duke. Cavanagh. Up front, now.”

  “Everyone all right, gentlemen?” I asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s going on?” Grave asked.

  Will you fucking shut up for a second?

  They opened the door and two other guards appeared. They passed my I.D. around like it was some sort of communal beer or some shit like that. I stood there with a cool outer facade. But inside? I was already planning their deaths.

  Heel to the toe. Knee to the face. Elbow to the back of the neck. Fractured spine, bone shrapnel pierces the brain.

  Arm around neck. Close off airway. Steal knife on his hip and plunge into his stomach.

  Fist to the jaw. Uppercut to the chin. Knee to th
e—

  “Referral?” the guard asked.

  “I don't like dropping names,” I said.

  “You’re new. No referral, no entry,” the other one said.

  “Not even if I’ve got money to spend?”

  “Don’t care if you’ve got the president to spend.”

  I chuckled. “Nice try. I appreciate it.”

  The guard pressed my I.D. into my chest. “Leave the same way you can.”

  I sighed. “Look, I heard about this place from a guy at work. I’m new to the area and I could use a place to decompress. Have a drink. Maybe win a bit of cash. Or, you know, lose cash then find a way to write it off as tax-exempt. Am I right?”

  “Tone it down, Toxin,” Grave murmured.

  I wanted to rip my fucking earpiece out.

  “Leave,” the guard said.

  “The man’s name is Ralph, or something. I don’t really know. I don’t care, because I know he’s only talking to me so he can fuck my wife. Which, honestly, I’d let him do at this point. She’s getting on my nerves and needs a distraction,” I said.

  One of the guards chuckled before another one—who I assumed was the boss—shot him a look.

  “The money. In your pocket,” Grave said curtly.

  “Okay, okay. Fine. Maybe if I prove to you the money I’ve got to spend, you’ll let me in. Yes?” I asked.

  “I’m only going to ask you one more time,” the guard said.

  I jammed my hand into my pocket and pulled out a nicely-folded wad of cash. I handed it to the guards in between my fingers, batting it back and forth between them. They each looked at one another. Then, all eyes fell on me.

  Before the main kahuna snatched the money away from my hand.

  “Don’t cause a stir and don’t make me regret it.”

  I smiled. “Never would dream of it.”

  I walked into the casino and looked around. I studied the room as Grave continued to mindlessly talk in my ear. Honestly, it was shocking. The level of security I didn’t have to walk through was definitely unlike Lars. I hadn’t been scanned for weapons. Not that I was carrying any. I hadn’t been walked through a metal detector. No one checked me for mics or earwigs of any sort. And while that should’ve calmed my soul, it made me even more nervous.

  Because it meant if shit went down, we were all expendable.

  “—so, once you can find that, all you have to do is—”

  “Grave, if you don’t get the fuck out of my ear and let me do my job, I’m tossing this damn thing into a toilet and flushing it down,” I murmured.

  I smiled at people passing me by as I stood in the middle of the room. I didn’t know what to play first. Where to spend all this money I supposedly had. I mean, I needed an ATM first. And conveniently, there were ATMs in every corner of the room. Literally. The flashing lights boasted of money I could pull out before exchanging them for chips. So, I turned in the direction of the nearest one and took a step.

  Before I found those eyes.

  There, in the darkness, I saw them staring at me. Dark. Brown. Cat-like. I froze in my spot, taking in the beautiful set of eyes peering at me from the shadows. I couldn't stare long, though. People would start to wonder if I was all right.

  And after just getting in, I didn’t need to be tossed out.

  I pulled my eyes away from the shadowed figure, but it was hard. I walked over to the ATM and pulled out a few hundred dollars. Then, I exchanged them for chips. I found myself at a poker table and they dealt me in. Before a scantily-clad woman came over to bombard me with questions.

  “Are you thirsty? We have some great drink specials.”

  “You want a kitchen menu?”

  “If ya need me, my name’s Melody. Just hold your hand up and I’ll come runnin’.”

  I nodded before tossing a few chips onto her silver platter.

  “A whiskey on the rocks and your best appetizer. The rest, you can keep,” I said.

  “Comin’ right up, handsome,” the woman said.

  She ran her hand across my shoulders as she walked away. And it took all I had not to shrug her touch off. I didn’t like being touched by people. By strangers. Especially women. Just wasn’t my thing. If I wanted a woman, she’d know it. Because I’d take what I wanted and not look back.

  Round after round, I lost money. A few of them, I came out even. But I certainly didn’t win anything back. I wasn’t paying attention, though. I kept my head on a swivel, whenever I knew it was safe. I clocked all the security cameras. And there were many of them. Nineteen, by my count. And that was only the first floor.

  “What’s the second floor of this place for?” I asked.

  However, when all the guys at the table laughed and clapped my back, that answered my question for me.

  Wonder if those rooms have cameras, too.

  Then, I saw them again. Those striking brown eyes. Only, they weren’t hovering in the darkness anymore. As a woman with a plunging neckline and impossible heels came into my view, her eyes met mine. Her thick brown hair was piled on top of her head in curls. She had a hat with a small veil pinned to her head. Her red flapper dress clung to every curve of her body. And those legs.

  Holy shit, her legs were practically as long as mine.

  How the hell did you end up here, beautiful?

  “I’d love to know what those red lips feel like around my cock.”

  “Too bad she’s a waitress. I’d pay double for her room.”

  “She’s staring at you, buddy. Might wanna go hop on that while you can.”

  The older gentleman beside me nudged me. Ripped me right out of my fucking trance. In any other world, he would’ve signed his death warrant. But I kept my cool. I pulled my eyes away from the woman and focused on the game in front of me. A game I lost spectacularly.

  I don’t like the comments they’re making about her.

  After playing through my first round of money, I excused myself from the table. I made a beeline for another ATM, finishing off my drink in stride. I placed it down onto a mindlessly passing silver tray. I ducked into the shadows so I could perch. Most everyone was piss drunk. Laughing and throwing their money around like it was nothing. And as I stood there, getting my bearings, she came back into view.

  That dark beauty with the red dress.

  Her tan skin forced my eyes along her legs. How they glistened. How smooth they looked. Her heels flexed her calves, ricocheting the impression all the way up her back. Her pert little ass stuck out. Her chest, voluptuous and ready for the taking. I licked my lips as I stood there, breathing in and out. As slowly as I could.

  “The fuck’s wrong with you?” Grave asked.

  “I’ll let you know once I’m done,” I murmured.

  “Wait, wait, wait. No, Toxin. Don’t you d—”

  I slipped the earpiece out of my ear and dropped it into the inside pocket of my coat. I wondered if this beauty might have any information I could glean from her. You know, in torturous fashion. I grinned at the idea. Lapping between those thighs of hers until she told me what I wanted to know. Before tossing her over the edge with nothing but my mouth and my fingers.

  My cock ached at the thought.

  Target set. Ready for approach. Don’t be an ass.

  Then, I emerged from the shadows and headed straight for her.

  The dark beauty in the red fucking dress.

  4

  Natasha

  “Here you go.”

  “Be careful, I’m setting this by your elbow.”

  “I’d go for red-22. But, that’s just my lucky color and number.”

  “I can get you another one, sure!”

  I dished out drinks as quickly as they came out of the kitchen. I placed them down, making my rounds around the roulette tables I was in charge of for the night. I didn’t like some of the looks the men gave me, though. The tips kept growing. The chips got tossed at me in droves. And a couple of the men winked at me before nodding upstairs. Up to the second floor.
/>   Where our designated “whore rooms” were.

  “Look at that body.”

  “Why don’t you come here and sit next to me?”

  “You got a number to go with that drink?”

  The men who didn’t order drinks and food by the pound were cat-calling me. Whistling and trying to sneak a touch of my ass. There wasn’t a damn part of this job I enjoyed, except for the financial security. The safety of it all. I wanted to punch a few of them in their face, though. Break their nose for even insinuating I’d make my way into one of those rooms.

  I swore to fuck on high, I didn’t know how those second-floor women kept coming into work. Night in, and night out.

  The chips kept piling onto my silver tray, and I smiled. Every once in a while, I cashed them in. Rolling up the wad of cash before tucking it into my bra. Tonight, had definitely been my best tip night. I’d already cashed out chips on three separate occasions. I’d have to be careful walking home. Possibly take one of the guards up on their offer to escort me. Because it wasn’t safe to walk these back alleys with a bra full of almost two thousand dollars’ worth of tips.

  That’s my rent and bills combined for the month.

  Back and forth from the kitchen I went. Dealing with four tables of men trying to grope me and their women staring at me as if it were my fault. I’d been working this job for well over a year. And I figured, at some point in time, I’d get used to it. That was what I figured.

  Only, I never did.

  I made my way over to the one roulette table away from the rest of them. It was one of the elite tables. Where the minimal entry fee was more than the money stuffed down into my bra. These were the high rollers. The men I needed to please. Because they were the customers that easily paid my rent for the rest of the year. If I played my cards right.

  “A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

  I whipped my head over at the sound of the voice. Low. Full. It shook my ribcage and sent electricity surging down my spine. And I realized why the second our eyes connected.

  Him.

  The man with the swept-back hair and the dark green eyes.