Page 20 of Nomad
“Because she’s our fucking family, ZigZag. And despite Janet’s statement identifying the piece of shit and the other two women who survived, the cops aren’t believing them. More than likely, it has to do with mommy dearest being a Senator and some dirty cops.” J.D. frowned with fury. “Anyway, Hannibal’s being pulled into this shit and the cops are focusing on him instead of Allen.”
“How the hell does Hannibal know this guy?” Tank growled. His name fit him well because he was as big as one, but Viking would have been a better choice. “And how is Hannibal connected to these missing women?”
It was another good question, and although this part of the meeting didn’t concern me, I wanted to hear the answer. This seemed to be a ton of shit Hannibal was in. He faced kidnapping and murder charges if the cops had their way. Depending on how widespread this thing was, Hannibal could also face federal charges, which would put a spotlight on Demons United. Not only the North Carolina Chapter, but the entire organization.
“Hannibal says he doesn’t know the guy, but he has seen him frequentLeather and Laceregularly. As far as his connection to the missing women, you all know Hannibal has particular tastes.” J.D. pinched the bridge of his nose. I had no clue what the hell that meant, and I didn’t care. However, all the men in the room nodded. So, Hannibal’s tastes were widely known throughout the club. “Leather and Laceis the service Hannibal uses. All these women were last seen with him, including Janet, according toLeather and Lace’srecords. Although Hannibal denies this.”
Disgruntled groans and curses sounded throughout the room. My eyes remained on Samuel Allen’s picture. I remembered how close he’d stood next to Jade at Aaron’s funeral, how he’d kept his eyes trained on her while she was at her brother’s side. How he’d lend her a shoulder to cry on if Miles wasn’t around. Even in her grief, he wanted her. And I hated it.
“Where’s Hannibal?” Schizo asked.
“Lying low until we can get all this shit sorted out,” Caesar said. “For how long, we have no fucking clue. As of today, he’s keeping his distance from the club until further notice. He’s also hired a top-notch defense attorney in case this shit blows up more than it already has.”
“What do you mean?” Tank asked.
“We got word from our informant inside the police department that the Feds are being brought in because of the sex trafficking connection,” Caesar said. “According to the info the informant slipped us, this might not be only local, but nationwide, including a connection to a sitting U.S. Congresswoman. The club doesn’t need that kind of heat.”
“Sorry about Priest’s sister,” Kilo said, “and, of course, the other women, too. But that still doesn’t explain why fucking Sandman McGhee is in Church?”
I was here because someone needed to die.
“I’ve called in Sandman because he’s going to take out the Senator’s son,” J.D. said. “I need this done fast. I’d take a vote on something of this magnitude, but things are moving fast. Janet’s family, and we take care of our own. No questions asked.”
“No vote needed, Prez,” Tank said, and the others around the room nodded in agreement. “We’re all with you on this one, and if any man in this room isn’t, I think you need to give up your fucking patches. A man who takes a woman against her will needs to die a painful death. Any man who fucks with our family deserves no mercy when he takes his last breath. His money nor his mama can save him this time. As Priest would say…”
“‘They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind,’” they all replied in unison.
And I’m the whirlwind.
“You think you can keep this prick’s death from coming back to the club?” Caesar asked me. “Because once he goes missing, and with Hannibal being the prime suspect, Demons United will be the primary focus of their investigation. They may try to pin this sex trafficking shit on us if we ain’t careful. These fucking pigs have been looking to pin shit on us since this chapter set roots here.”
The men nodded. They agreed they might get blamed for the murders and the sex trafficking ring when Allen went missing. And I agreed, too. This could come back on them. A lot of One Percenters dealt in the skin trade, but not Demons United. While there was a possibility of that happening, I had nothing to do with the chapter getting pulled into anything.
I faced J.D., and he nodded. This was his show, not mine. I wouldn’t answer questions from his chapter members unless he allowed it. It was how things worked in our world. Everything was up to the Prez.
“It’s up to the club to keep it from coming back on you.” I’d responded to Caesar’s question but directed my response to every man in the room. “Cleanup is not my problem.”
Some nodded while others scowled at my answer. However, everyone needed to understand my job and theirs before we left Church today.
“My job is to find the target and take him out,” I continued. “It’s up to the chapter how they handle what comes after. That includes cleanup of the scene and disposal of the body. I’ve been doing this a long time, helping the chapters when I’m called upon and during my military service. There will be no way to connect this kill back to me if it comes back on the club.”
Samuel Allen’s death coming back to the club wasn’t my problem. I was untraceable and protected. The Feds or local law enforcement will never connect his death to me.
“That’s how I do things.” I gazed around the room at the men gathered. “Once the job’s complete, I’m in the wind. If that’s going to be a problem with anyone in this room, it’s something you need to take up with your Prez. It’s up to him if my services are needed, not anyone else here.”
“And what if you make a mistake?” Tank asked. “What if all this shit comes back on us because of you, and we’re still on the hook for your fuck up?”
By his tone and how he eyed me, he wasn’t sure I could get the job done. Or he didn’t like the fact J.D. had called me to handle this issue. Whatever the problem, it didn’t bother me because what he thought didn’t matter. I always got the job done.
I smirked at him. “I don’t make mistakes. If it comes back on the chapter, the mistake is on the chapter’s end, not mine.”
“How long will it take for you to take this motherfucker out?” J.D. asked as he twisted his wedding band around his finger, something I noticed he’d done a lot of since meeting him.
I hadn’t missed the glare from Tank. He didn’t like my answer, but I ignored him and turned my attention towards his Prez, who held more on his shoulders than one man could bear.
Most of the men in motorcycle clubs, especially one percenter clubs, wanted to rise in the ranks and have the chance to be President. I assumed it was for the prestige and bragging rights that came with the title. Demons United was one of the most feared and respected clubs across the country with chapters in every state up and down the East Coast. Men who had done a lot of good and a shit ton of bad to prospect for this club and get patched in. To rise to the office of the Prez, J.D. had earned his place by doing what needed to be done.
Yet, I never wanted the job. I’d carried enough weight on my shoulders when I was in the military. Being a Nomad, doing a hit now and then when called upon was good enough for me. With running a one-percenter club came the never-ending stress, and a huge ass target on your back, not only from the club’s enemies but also from law enforcement. It was up to the Prez to keep the chapter afloat, and a bad Prez could lead to the downfall of not only a chapter, but the entire organization.
