“We have a mission,” my older brother, Silas, says to me as I’m sitting in my recliner in the office enjoying a crisp-cold beer, finally relaxing and recovering from a job that still has me pissed and seeing red. When the case was initially presented to us, and I saw the pictures, and read the hospital reports of this poor woman, who’d been brutally and viciously raped and assaulted, I went into a blinding rage. I was ready to take that motherfucker out of this world that instant. Luckily, it only took me a day to track his sorry ass down, thanks to Jonas’ mad computer skills. The dumb fuck was using his plastic to eat and sleep. Meaning, he wasn’t hiding his trail and was using his credit cards.
“The fuck, man, can’t a guy sit back, relax, and drink a cold brew before you come in giving him an assignment! Motherfucker, I just got back from putting down that piece of shit, Amos, that raped that woman. Can’t I get past that before you send me to take out another piece of shit?” Some of these cases are starting to get to me, and I need a minute to myself before I begin all over again.
“No. Not an option right now, brother—unfortunately. This concerns the call you initially received from Law when he got in touch asking for help. There’s a senator, some fucker named Sterling Brown. Get this, he’s a motherfucking junior, he wasn’t even special enough to get his own name.” This is a common joke between the three of us. I can’t help but internally roll my eyes, I hate dealing with juniors, seniors and thirds. They’re always too big for their britches, and think they are above answering for their crimes against humanity.
We both crack up in laughter. “Let me guess, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth too?”
“Score one for you! How’d you know?” he sarcastically asks. This time I do roll my eyes. The law can’t always go after these guys because technically they have no proof of their illegal activities. Which is where we come in, when the law can’t, or won’t, do a damn thing about it. Jonas can find a needle in a haystack blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back. And between me, Silas, and our recon skills, if an asshole has dirt to find on him, we dig it up. The three of us are in high demand, and a force to be reckoned with. The ‘good guys’ hands may be tied, but ours aren’t. We aren’t sanctioned or governed by the government. I like a good hunt too, which makes for a good day of keeping my ‘specialized talents’ honed.
“So what’s the deal?” I ask as he throws a file in my lap. We always look at them, work the case, then burn everything, never a good idea to leave behind a paper trail leading back to us. We are like ghosts, there one minute and gone the next. I open it up and begin reading as he goes on to explain.
“This bastard killed his wife, and physically hurt their little girl. He roughed her up, and no one was sure she’d recover from the injuries. Law wants him gone… without a trace.” I can understand the reasoning behind that, especially if this involves his new woman. I’d feel the same way, if and that’s a big if, I allowed a woman to come into my life. Due to my mother abandoning us when I was ten, Silas thirteen, and Jonas seven years old, it makes a man wary of putting his trust in the other gender.
“And of course, they don’t want to get their hands dirty,” I reiterate. They aren’t a one-percent club, and most of them are in law enforcement of some kind, so they have to turn their heads in the other direction, and that’s where we come in to play.
“You and I both know that’s not who they are, fucker. Get this, the senator we’re going to be tracking has been threatening Law’s woman for a long time, too.” Nailed it on the head, I knew from our conversation that Law was involved with this family on a personal level. Good for him, I suppose.
Ah fuck. My circle is small and tight, but Law’s not a bad guy. None of the bikers are, actually. Most are former military, so they have the training we do, they just choose to live life differently. They like to stay on the right side of the law. I’m okay with that but don’t anticipate any kind of in-depth shit where they’re concerned. If they need a job worked, they call us. Period.
“So, when do you want me to begin working this and go out searching for information?” I ask my brother, because honestly, I need more background on this fucker before I know where to begin my search.
“I’ve got Jonas working on getting us more information to complete the file and give us a better idea of where we need to go. I’m not sure which circles he’s involved himself in, but if he’s disappeared, he’s got friends in some pretty high places. I have a feeling we’re going to uncover a lot of the higher ups in the government in his pockets.” He casually leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. To most he’d look relaxed, but knowing him as well as I do, I know he’s settling in for a long conversation. Guess there’s no rest for the wicked after all.
“It’d be typical with an asshole like him.” I get up and grab another couple of beers before I start getting into what he’s managed to dig up so far. I walk back over towards my seat and I toss one of the cold ones to him. I sit down, pull the lever on the side of my seat, and get relaxed. I have a feeling that this information is going to have my hackles rising. As I get halfway through the file, I get to the point where I see the description of the injuries inflicted on the little girl, and what all she suffered. I stop and get up again. Going over to the liquor cabinet I grab myself the bottle of whiskey instead. This case calls for something stronger than what I’m currently drinking. Beer won’t put the demons to rest that plague my soul.
“Told ya it was a rough read,” he says. He’s watched me reading, and I know he sees the white-hot rage that’s coursing through me because my muscles are clenched, and my entire body is stiff. If Senator Douchebag was standing in front of me right now, I’d eviscerate him with my pocket knife and make his entrails into necklaces before I took the pleasure of sending him straight to the pits of hell. Motherfucking, son-of-a-bitch! I’m not a total heartless bastard and imagining what she went through has my gut roiling, it actually makes me nauseous. But I don’t stop drinking. Especially when I turn the page and see the pictures. Dear God! I don’t know many grown men who could get past injuries like these, let alone a small, fragile, little girl.
“Fucking hell, motherfucker! How in the fuck did she survive what he did to her?” I grit through my teeth, clutching the picture that shows her legs and an arm casted, and purple bruises and cuts everywhere that skin is showing. “How? Jesus Fucking Christ.” I feel murderous, worse than I’ve ever felt before. We don’t get justice for kids very often, and when we have, none of them were close to this severe.
“Now you know why I agreed to us doing this one. When Law called you, he didn’t give you any deets other than he needed our help. I spoke with Law, and then dug into the information initially provided by him. I made the final decision to go further with this case because of the severity of the situation. There’s no way that Emma, and Cassarah, his woman and kid, are safe with that fucking piece of shit still out on the loose. Seems Law’s old lady is this kid’s biological aunt, and she was so scared of the senator that she disappeared, went into hiding, and that’s where Law ended up meeting her. Pure luck that they ended up crossing paths. Actually, he initially lost the case in the court of law that began it all, and the kid was returned to the dad after the first beating that took place. Like I said earlier, this guy has to have hands in deep pockets, we just need to find out who they are. That’s where Jonas comes in, he’ll follow the breadcrumbs and find out where they lead.”
Yeah, stupid fucking judicial system. Why would they give her back to the person who abused her to begin with? If they hadn’t, her mother might have lived, and she wouldn’t have been nearly broken in two. I have some informants who will come in handy when it comes to the moneybags who go into hiding. I’ll give them a call and see if they can find out what underground organization he is involved with. It could take some time, but they are our best bet when it comes to finding out who’s backing him.
“Be a good little bitch and we’ll let you see your sister tonight,” I’m advised as I, once again, am set out to do their dirty deeds. I was taken in the dead of the night as I left my job at the local strip club. I’m a waitress, or was, before I was taken against my will. I made good money in tips, and obviously caught the attention of some unsavory men. They took my baby sister to use as leverage against me to get me to do as they demand. My sister is the only family I have left, and I’d do anything to protect her and keep her safe. Apparently, one of my customers that is fond of me is someone they’re attempting to get on their side and they’ll use any and all means to get him onboard.
Why they think I’ll have any influence on his decisions is anyone’s guess. I know he’s kind of sweet on me, but flirting is as far as it’s ever got between me and Mr. Garza. But apparently, they feel differently. So far since they’ve had me in their clutches, I’ve sold things that I have no clue what they are, but I’m a great salesperson and can sell a beachside property to a dying man who only has weeks to live. I have the ability to make him think, and feel, that it would be vital to the rest of his days. Most of these people they have me working with are tied to Mr. Garza and his organization. It’s a way for me to get a foothold into his world and further gather his attention.
“What is it I’ll be doing tonight?” I question.
“Mr. Garza is having a party, invite only, but we have a feeling you can manage to get yourself inside. He has feelings for you, unlike anything he’s ever shown towards another female. Do your thing, get inside and plant this in his office.” He shows me a small circular device, and I have a feeling that it’s a bug of some sorts.
“So not only do I need to get inside, but I need to locate his office and plant this thing,” I ask, pointing at it, “hidden so it won’t be found?”
“See, you get it.” His smile spreads across his face. But it isn’t a friendly smile, it’s sinister and makes my body break out in shivers, and not the good kind.
“And how do you propose I get myself invited looking like this?” I ask, pointing down to the raggedy clothes I’m wearing. “There’s no way I’ll fit in.”
“Well, bitch, we’ve got clothes upstairs. You’ll bathe in the stream and make yourself presentable in time to ‘accidentally’ run into Garza at his usual lunch spot. We’ve already worked it out to where you two will be seated next to each other. This job depends on the health and welfare of poor, sweet Destiny. But I encourage you to screw this up, because she’s been promised to me if you do. I long to get my hands on her luscious body.”
Oh fuck no. There’s no way this miscreant is touching my baby sister. No fucking way!
“You’re disgusting,” I sneer at him.
“Just being honest. Do your job and she remains untouched, don’t do it and she’ll pay for your failure.” I will succeed, there’s no way I’m letting this animal put even one finger on my sister!
“Fine, take me to the stream, I’ll get that invite and plant that bug.”
“Now you’re talking.” He unlocks the chains that have me bolted to the wall and grabs my elbow roughly, yanking me towards the door of my wayward cell. Maybe I can find a way to talk to Mr. Garza and give him the heads up and hopefully he’ll be willing to help me and Destiny.