Page 8 of Bristol

Mo’s always had a soft spot for girls in need of saving. He’s the fatherly type and always wants to help fix the broken. I can’t blame him. I want to fix her, too. Bikes begin pulling up outside and one by one, members trickle in.

Big George walks in first, wearing his typical dark green plaid shirt. Thick, black framed glasses sit on his nose and every now and again he scrunches his nose up, lifting them back in place. He doesn’t take anyone’s shit.

Next in the door are Bosco and Niles, laughing as they walk in. They’re our two prospects and they’ve only been around for a few months, but they’re doing their part and I’m pretty sure they’ll make great brothers one day. Bosco is in his early twenties with a scraggly brown beard. He’s always wrenching on something, so ninety percent of the time I see him, he’s dirty. Whether its dirt, paint, or grease, he’s always got something staining his clothes.

Niles is the smiling prospect. He’s happy twenty-four seven. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without that big goofy grin he’s donning now. He’s thirty-five, a single dad, and from what I know of him, one hell of a man. He’ll do anything for anyone, give you the shirt off his back, but he’s short and bulky and not one who can be taken down easily.

Mikey walks in behind the prospects holding a freshly cracked Budweiser in his hand. He’s one of the older members, been here for almost ten years. He’s in his fifties, a tall slender man with a more salt than pepper goatee that’s always impeccably groomed. He spends most of his free time working on fundraisers for the club, so we made him Treasurer last year. His wife doesn’t ever come around, but she doesn’t care that he spends his free time here. I’m surprised this is the first time he’s been here in three days. He must have been sick, that’s usually the only thing that keeps him away.

He did miss two weeks once, but that was because he ended up in the hospital for some health issues he doesn’t talk about, and his wife didn’t call any of us. We were worried sick the whole time not knowing what happened to him. When he finally woke up from the medically induced coma he was in, he called Joey and filled him in. The club has never been her thing, but it’s always been his.

Our chapel as we call it is on the second floor of this old house. There’s a stairwell leading up to it on the outside of the house and a narrow stairway inside. It’s completely soundproofed with a large cherry oak table in the center of the open room. There are sixteen chairs around the table, each carved with the club’s Reaper peeking through the torn American Flag The same carving is in the center of our table, backlit with a blue light, contingent with our colors.

Along the far-back wall is a cherry oak desk, also carved with our patch. It’s heavy duty, with six locked drawers. Our fireproof safe is in the wall above the desk, hidden inside a wooden case that holds rocks glasses, specially ordered with Tattered Saints on one side and MC on the other. Joey takes his seat at the head of the table while the rest of us enter. Everyone is seated when Slim drags in. I know he had to take Princess home and probably give her a good ass chewing. Joey glances at him momentarily, if only to acknowledge his presence. Once he’s seated, Joey looks around, like he always does before we get started.

“This meeting is officially called to order. We called an emergency church tonight to discuss the girl that Mo and Keno found. For those of you that don’t know, Mo and Keno’s industrial company has been delivering parts to a warehouse for a few years now. They noticed a girl there and got some bad vibes about the place and the man running it, so they did a little digging and found out that he was a creep. Upon further inspection, they learned that the girl was being held against her will. They acted immediately, saving the girl and bringing her back here. Her name is Bristol. We investigated her and found out she was taken the same day her family was annihilated, likely by the man who kidnapped her. People in her community don’t know what to think and for six years they’ve been looking for her, while also accusing her of having something to do with the murders of her mother, father, and brother.”

Joey stops for a few minutes so that everyone around the table can process what he just said.

“What kind of sick fuck does that to a girl?” Mikey asks, his ears reddening.

“One that doesn’t need to breathe anymore,” I quip. I bite back some of the rage budding in my chest at the thought of this piece of trash hurting Bristol.

“So, what are we going to do about it?” Niles asks.

“We’re going to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to do something like this ever again.” Joey’s answer is exactly what I was hoping it would be. I want to take his last breath from him for what he’s done. No woman deserves the shit he put her through.

“He’s probably long gone since we snagged her and took off, though,” Mo grumbles.

“He can’t hide forever. We will find him sooner or later, and when we do it’ll be the last time he’s ever found,” I growl.

“I’ve got some contacts who specialize in finding people who don’t want to be found. I’ll put a call in and get the ball rolling on that. Mo, what’s this guy’s name? I’m going to need all the information you have on him,” Slim says, pulling out a notepad from his cutoff.

Mo spouts off the man’s name, Patrick something. I wasn’t paying attention for that. I was too busy envisioning wrapping my hands around his puny fucking neck while he struggles to gasp for air. Murder isn’t my specialty. I’ve never killed anyone. I’ve never seen anyone kill anyone, either. But for some reason, I have no qualms with taking this man’s life. I know that it will be a deed I’ll savor, and it’ll bring me great pleasure knowing that I’ve saved the lives of his future victims by taking his life.

“What are we going to do with the girl? Shouldn’t she go home?” Niles asks.

“I’m not sure if she wants to go home. Bash, I need you to talk to her. Put your feelers out and see what she’s thinking, what her plans are. And… someone’s got to tell her about the rumors and speculation of her involvement…” Joey trails off.

By someone, he means me. Sure, let me be the one to completely break her heart. Not like she just learned her whole family has been dead for the last six years that she’s been missing, but sure, let me throw this on her on top of that. I’m going to end up bringing this girl to the fucking nut house myself because she’s going to lose her mind. Anyone in their right mind would lose their mind under these circumstances. Who knows how much damage this motherfucker did to her?

“Yeah. Make me break her heart even more, why don’t you?” I scoff.

Joey levels me with one look. He’s always been fatherly, and that look is one that says, you better cut the bullshit and listen to me boy. As if I wasn’t going to anyway.

“How is this girl going to be re-introduced into society? She doesn’t have any identification; she has no paper trail or existence at this moment. Which can either be a very terrible thing, or a very good thing. It’s a chance for a new start for her if she wanted it. We could help her completely reinvent herself,” Big George points out.

We do have connections with a man who is good at making people disappear, or more-so reappear as someone else. We call him Magician, because that’s what he does. He works his magic. Don’t know his name, but it’d be easy to find out if we ever needed to. That’s the thing about having connections, you make sure you keep the right people tucked away in all the right corners. You never know when you may need them.

“I’ll work on her and see what can be done. I’ll give her the option to go home or to start over here. She’s going to need a lot of work, though,” I sigh.

“Sounds like you’re already signed up for the job,” Big George elbows me, chuckling as he does. Bastard.

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Okay. Let’s bring it to a vote. All in favor of finding Patrick and ridding the world of him say aye.”

A unanimous ‘aye’ sounds around the room.

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