Ryker: Dead Souls MC: Prospects #4

by Rylan, Savannah

  And in other ways, very telling.

  Her lack of fear told me she’d experienced worse. And not simply experienced but had gotten used to worse. That punched me in my gut, too. Hard. On the outside, she seemed beautiful. A wonderful smile. A nice laugh. Kind enough, from my impression of her at the shop. Definitely had no personal ties to whatever it was she’d been mixed up in. I didn’t get the impression she worked for Lars. She didn’t have that swagger about her.

  But something behind her eyes told me a different story.

  The sadness filling her eyes juxtaposed the strong stance she had. Every move I made, she mimicked. But the sadness continued to drop her features. Her eyes grew tired. The bags underneath her eyes became more prominent. Within the span of a few seconds, she seemed to melt and rise in front of me. A metaphor for the juxtaposition of strength and weakness I saw harnessing her to the ground. I ran my eyes over her, taking in her short stature. Her milky skin. The redness of her cheeks as she held back glistening tears that somehow ignited her gorgeous eyes.

  What have you experienced, pretty girl?

  Sympathy welled in my gut. And the second my shoulders dropped, I postured again. I was growing weak against her, and that didn’t sit well with me. I still needed to get my daughter out of there. I still needed to get her to safety. I needed to get her out of this fucking house.

  Only, part of me wanted to reach out and hug this woman.

  You can’t have sympathy for her. Not now, Ryker.

  I stuffed the feeling away and made myself blind to her sadness. I balled my fists up, feeling Ariel grip the back of my leather jacket. Wait. Shit. Holy fuck. I was still wearing my leather jacket!

  “Dead… Souls?” Ariel asked.

  Her fingertips ran along the stitching of my leather cut. Kaylynn’s head fell off to the side as her brow furrowed with confusion. In a flash, the sadness abated. Replaced with unasked questions as her mouth stayed muted.

  “Is that a… skull, Daddy?”

  “We can talk about it later, princess,” I murmured.

  “Is this new?” Ariel asked.

  “Not now.”

  “But Dad—”

  “I said, not—”

  “Maybe you should talk to her instead of brushing her off all the time,” Kaylynn said.

  My eyes hardened on her. “What did you say?”

  She shrugged. “It’s obvious she loves you. It’s also obvious that I'm not going to attack you unless it’s in self-defense. So, why don’t you answer your daughter’s question instead of brushing her off because she’s a girl?”

  Venom laced her words. She practically spat the last few words at me. The heat in her eyes rose, abating the confusion and swallowing the sadness. Fire roared behind her stare, matching the deep red tint of her hair. It seemed I’d been surrounded by that fire all my life. It burned within me. I saw it in the flaming hot body of my daughter’s mother back during my teenage years. I saw it every morning and heard it every night in Ariel’s voice.

  And now, I stared at it. The physical embodiment of the fire that had followed me all my life.

  A kindred flame.

  I’d read about that somewhere. In some book I’d come across in a trash can, back when I was eating out of dumpsters. Something about twin flames. Or soul mates. Or some such, well, trash. I brushed it off then, listening to my stomach’s need for bread instead of giving much thought to bullshit like love, romance, or natural puzzle pieces.

  Until now.

  “Princess?”

  “Yeah, Daddy?”

  “Yes, that’s a skull,” I said.

  “What’s it for?”

  I drew in a steady breath. “It’s a motorcycle crew I ride with. They’re called the Dead Souls.”

  “So, you have friends who ride bikes, too? That sounds like fun. Can I come sometime?”

  “Maybe when it’s safe.”

  “Why wouldn't it be safe?”

  Then, Kaylynn piped up. “Because sometimes, there are bad people out there that want to harm good people for no reason.”

  “Well, that sounds dumb. We should have a cookout instead,” Ariel said.

  And the statement made Kaylynn snicker.

  “She’s got a point,” she said.

  Her eyes fell to my daughter and I could’ve sworn she winked. Ariel giggled as her small hand slipped into mine. Whatever bond she’d formed with this woman, it was about to end. This Stockholm Syndrome attachment was done. Over. No matter what I had to do.

  “I’m taking her with me now,” I said.

  And just as Kaylynn parted her plush lips to respond, headlights flashed through the windows.

  I watched her rush past us, into the living room. She rustled the curtains and parted the blinds, trying to see out. She gasped. I watched her grow pale. She looked white as snow when she turned toward us, tumbling over her words.

  “It’s—it’s my—uh, Alex. You guys have to—”

  “Your brother? Alex?” I asked.

  She paused. “How do you know that?”

  Ariel clung to me. “Don’t let him take me again. Please, Daddy.”

  “He won’t,” I said.

  And, shockingly enough, Kaylynn said it in unison along with me.

  “You have to get out of here,” she said.

  “I’m not leaving without my daughter,” I said.

  “If she’s gone, I’m dead.”

  “And if she stays, she might be dead.”

  “You don’t know what’s at stake here. She’s not even supposed to be with me. She’s—”

  A door slammed outside, and I knew we didn’t have much time.

  “Back door. Where is it?” I asked.

  “I’m not telling you,” Kaylynn said.

  “You’re not getting my daughter.”

  “And I don’t plan on dying tonight. If you leave, we’re both okay and you can come back.”

  “If he doesn’t take you both first.”

  “Don’t let him take me,” Ariel whispered.

  I rubbed her back. “I promise you, I’m not.”

  My hand gravitated toward my gun. Kaylynn’s eyes fell to my hand as footsteps sounded on the porch. She lunged for me, gripping my wrist and tugging me toward the steps with Ariel in town. And as she slung me up the steps, she picked up Ariel and handed her to me.

  “Upstairs. Don’t come down until he’s gone. Either of you. Got it?” she asked.

  I held Ariel against my hip as my free hand fell against my gun.

  “Got it,” I said.

  My daughter whimpered into my neck as we headed quietly up the stairs. Just as we got to the top, a knock came at the door. An even knock. A solid knock. A knock that had purpose, but little haste. That was a good sign. Though, we weren’t out of the woods yet.

  “I need you to be quiet, no matter what. Okay, princess?” I whispered.

  She nodded against me, and I kissed her forehead.

  “Good girl. It’ll all be over soon. Okay?”

  Then, I slipped into the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Making our way for a massive walk-in closet that had multiple corners for us to tuck ourselves away in.

  Though, I didn’t like how far away we were from Kaylynn.

  Especially if her brother had come here for nefarious purposes.

  14

  Kaylynn

  My heart melted as I watched them together. Even as I saw Ryker carrying her up the steps, I warmed to them both a bit. He was a caring father. One of the good ones. Though, I wasn’t sure he knew that. I wasn’t sure he understood that. Sure, he was rough around the edges. And yeah, he needed to stop hushing his daughter. The only reason I knew that was because I’d been hushed a lot as a girl. My father taught me that I never spoke unless spoken to beforehand. And my mother, before she passed, drilled into me that no man enjoyed a “chirpy little bird.” It suppressed my intelligence. My want to learn. I didn’t come to understand a great deal of things about how the world worked until much
later in life. Because I was too scared to ask questions.

  I didn’t want that happening to Ariel. And it was a quick fix.

  One Ryker was quick to make.

  He probably thought I was about to talk back to him. But the truth of the matter was that I'd been about to help them. I saw that determined look in his eye. I knew he’d hurt me to get Ariel out of here even though he didn’t strike me as the kind of man to enjoy hurting a woman. I’d come across many of those men during my father’s life. When he was still alive. When work came home with him more often than not. I knew what a psychopath’s stare looked like. And while he had a stoic stare—one that boasted of the terrible things he’d seen throughout his life—he didn’t have that empty stare. That psychotic stare.

  Though, again, I got the impression he thought he was one.

  My heart dropped to my stomach as my brother’s footsteps stopped at the front door. The world moved in slow motion as I listened to Ryker backtrack down the hallway with his daughter. With the little girl I’d come to grow close to during her stay at my house. I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to center myself as much as possible.

  And just as their footsteps above me ceased, a knock came at the door.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes and gave myself a second to center my world. I didn’t need to be seen crying, especially after I opened the door and looked my brother in the eyes. A knock came again. A steady knock. A calm knock. And while most people might’ve taken that as a good sign, I knew differently.

  With the men in my family, calm knocks were something to be feared.

  Every time my father knocked on my door with a calm, collected fist, I knew I was in for it. In for a lecture. In for a death glare. In for a rude awakening as he brought down his silent banhammer upon my world. My father didn’t have to beat sense into us. He scared us into it. Alex and I feared him in every sense of the word growing up. And when he came to our doors with that collected demeanor of his, we knew the dragon had awakened.

  Silent, deadly, and ready to rock our worlds.

  My brother had picked up his traits along the way. As my father groomed him for the role he had now, I watched him morph into our father. Into the second generation “Mr. Petrov.” It sickened me. And at the same time, it made him predictable. I ran down every weapon in my house. Where they were stored. How much ammunition I remembered leaving in them. How many footsteps it took me to get to those weapons. Because for all I knew, Alex was about to blow everything out of the water.

  For all I knew, he’d seen Ryker since the moment he walked up to my doorstep.

  It’s going to be okay. Just open the door before he takes it off the hinges himself.

  I reached for the doorknob as I blinked back the rest of my tears. I steeled my heart against him. I steeled my soul against the fear I felt trying to grab hold of the situation. If anything called for calm right now, it was this moment. With a biker upstairs being targeted by my brother, and a girl that wasn’t supposed to be in my possession tucked away with him, this could very well spell the end of my life.

  Deep breaths. Steady voice. Eye contact.

  I opened the door, revealing my brother on the other side. His eyes sat coolly against his face, sending a massive shiver down my spine. I cocked my head at him, my eyes dancing between his.

  Then, I spoke.

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “Can I come in?”

  “Depends on why you want to come in. I just got Ariel down to bed. I’d like you to not wake her up.”

  “That why it took you so long to get to the door?”

  You never were observant. “Believe it or not, I’m not shit with kids like you are.”

  He snickered, his face falling quickly. “Let me in.”

  I stepped off to the side and ushered him in, taking in the hastiness of his footsteps. I closed the front door and turned around, watching him try to box me in. He blocked my way toward the kitchen. Toward the closest weapon, which was a shotgun in one of the upper cabinets.

  So, I calmly strolled into the living room. Making my way for a pistol I had strapped to the back of the rocker recliner.

  “Care to tell me what the surprise visit it all about?” I asked.

  “I think you know why, sis.”

  I paused, standing beside the chair. “And if I don’t?”

  He snickered. “You always do. You were always very in tune with what was going on. Even when you stayed silent and played dumb all those years.”

  I faced him, poised to reach for the loaded weapon. “I think you're here about Ariel. Something’s happened to give away the fact that she might not be in the foster system after all. And you're panicking. Like always.”

  “I’m not panicking.”

  “Your footsteps tell me otherwise.”

  “See? Ever the observant one.”

  “You could use some of that trait for your job,” I said flatly.

  His eyes narrowed. “Where is Ariel?”

  “Sleeping upstairs. Why?”

  “I’m going to go get her.”

  He turned around, and I reached for his arm. Stopping him in his tracks.

  “Want to tell me why that’s happening?”

  He shook off my touch. “I don't have to tell you anything. She’s coming with me, and that’s final.”

  “Get out.”

  “Not without her.”

  “I said, get the fuck out of my house.”

  I lunged for him as he walked away from me, leaving me in the dark. That, my brother never did. He’d always been open with me, so long as I asked questions. He never gave up what he didn’t need to. But he’d never been hesitant to answer questions if I had them.

  Why was this time different from the rest?

  “Let me go,” he glowered.

  “Not until you tell me why you’re taking her away from this house,” I said.

  “I never should’ve let her stay here. Let me go.”

  “No.”

  “I said, now.”

  “I’m not letting you lay a hand on her after how you plucked her off the street.”

  “Get the fuck off me, Kay!”

  His roar filled the space around us, and he shoved me. I fell to the floor, cracking the back of my head against the coffee table in my living room. The world spun. Things faded in and out of darkness. Nausea? No. None of that. But I still didn’t feel well.

  “Alex,” I whimpered.

  “I never should’ve listened to you in the first place. Now, we’re all in trouble. She’s coming with me, getting loaded into the foster system, and we’re both washing our hands of this,” he growled.

  “No! Stop!”

  “Shut. The fuck. Up, Kay!”

  “Stop calling me that, you asshole!”

  I climbed onto my knees and crawled toward him. I came to the doorway of the living room and pulled myself upright. I lunged at him, tackling him just shy of the stairs. And when he stood up, he gripped my upper arms. He held me away from him, shaking me. Like he was trying to shake some sense into me.

  “What are you hiding!?”

  I sniffled. “Nothing, Alex. Just stop. She’s petrified. Scared out of her damn mind. Let me take her, at least.”

  “Don’t you get how dangerous this is for you? How dangerous all of this is?”

  “And yet, you keep dropping me kids. Like it’s nothing.”

  His silence told me everything I needed to know about his expression. Since I couldn't see it through my teary eyes. My hands came up and hooked onto his forearms. I steadied myself on my feet as the back of my head throbbed. My neck felt numb. My eyes felt like they were crossing. And as tears streaked my cheeks, he snickered.

  “You got attached.”

  I paused. “What?”

  “You got attached to her, didn’t you?”

  “What? No. I just—”

  “Admit it. You care for that girl, and you don’t want me taking her because then she won’t be in you
r care any longer.”

  “I don’t want you taking her because she’s sleeping and it’s only going to make things worse if she’s grumpy from being woken up by your ugly face.”

  He chuckled. “Cute. Really. It’s so obvious, though.”

  “What’s obvious?”

  “How much you love her.”

  I paused. “Please, Alex. Just come back in the morning. Just—”

  He shoved me away, causing me to stumble as I hit the wall. I splayed my hands against it, trying to steady myself. Until his hand wrapped around my throat. My eyes widened. Tears stained my neck as he locked his fingers around my jugular. He squeezed. Tightly. Until my head swam and it grew hard to breathe.

  “Alex,” I choked out.

  “Why are you trying to force me out of this house?” he asked.

  I coughed, trying to take in a breath of air. “Stop. I—I can’t—”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You’re talking now. Answer me. Why are you trying to get me out of here so quickly?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak as he closed off my airway. Tunnels closed in on my vision. I slapped his arm, trying to get him off me. But my slaps grew weak. I pounded my fists against his chest, but all he did was chuckle. Snarl. Glare at me as his fingernails curled into the skin of my neck.

  “You’re lying, Kay. And I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

  “Ale—I—you—”

  A crash sounded above our heads and he dropped me. I didn’t even realize he’d been lifting me until my feet touched the ground. Until they caved, and I hit my knees on the hardwood. Full force, with a cry leaving my lips I’d ever experienced before. I fell to my hands as drool escaped my lips. I heaved for air, holding myself upright on all fours as tears dripped effortlessly from my eyes. I picked up my hand. Wrapped it around my throat. Tried to massage the pain away as I heard a gun cock.

  “What was that?” Alex asked.

  I wheezed for more air. “Nothing.”

  “That wasn't nothing. What the fuck was it, Kay?”

  I’ll kill you if you call me that again. “Probably just—Ariel’s water bottle. Or stuffed animal. Maybe she—she rolled out of bed, or something.”