“If you’ve got something to tell us…”
I give them the short version, but that’s hard enough to repeat. Put simply, it doesn’t cover the magnitude of what Bronwyn suffered, how she was abused from such a young age, how she got pregnant, and how Trip is hers.
There’s silence when I’ve finished. Prez, his first concern for the club and its members, voices his concern as to the veracity of what Bronwyn told me.
Before I can answer, Saint waves his hand. “I was there, Prez. Not for the whole conversation, but enough to know every word out of Bronwyn’s mouth was the truth. There was no embellishment. The truth was more than fuckin’ enough by itself. Made for hard hearing.”
After shooting a quick look toward his VP, receiving a sharp confirmatory nod in return, Prez steeples his hands and just stares down at them. It’s almost as if I can see the wheels in his head turning.
Freak, who’d turned his head away when I’d finished the retelling, looks back now and states, “Well, that’s settled. However it’s done, even if it’s by Short claiming them. Bronwyn and her… son?” His eyes meet mine, asking for confirmation that we’re going to acknowledge their true relationship now. When I raise my chin, he completes what he was going to say. “I’d vote for them having the club’s protection.”
“Me too,” Tempest states.
After throwing a grateful look in his direction, my eyes land on Prez.
Bullseye scratches his forehead. When he speaks, his words seem to propel us back to the start of the meeting, ignoring anything I’ve been saying. “Doc wants to know where Trip is. He wants him home?—”
Suddenly, I’m shouting. “Didn’t you hear me? You can’t insist that Trip goes back to Doc just because he’s good at doctoring. Not when you know what he’ll be subjected to.” Getting to my feet, I lean forward, placing both hands on Bullseye’s desk. “You know what I’m wondering? How I could fuckin’ follow a man who even thinks of doing that?”
“Got to agree Short’s got a point, Prez,” Freak growls.
“For fuck’s sake!” Prez stands up so abruptly his chair topples back, the vehemence in his eyes making me take an involuntary step in the opposite direction. “Whoa. You all better zip your fuckin’ mouths, before you say something you can’t take back. At what point did I say I was going to give Trip back to him?” Looking back, I can’t remember him actually saying those words. “As for thinking I’d stand by and let a kid, any kid, and especially one that couldn’t even verbally fight back, return to aman like Doc, after what I’ve learned, you’re out of your fuckin’ minds.” He pauses and gives that Medusa stare again, only this time it’s focused on each of us in turn. “Losing Doc will hurt the club, but we’re fuckin’ adults, and there are more ways than one to skin a fuckin’ cat. None of you are asking the right fuckin’ questions.”
Tempest steps forward, daring to put himself in the firing line and shaking his head. “We ain’t no mind readers, Prez. So, if you know what we should be asking, I presume you’ve got the answer for us.”
“I’ve got the question,” he retorts. He’s got all of our attention. With bated breath, we wait him out. After a pregnant pause, he shakes his head and asks me directly, “Was Bronwyn being sexually abused by Doc all this time? ‘Cause I’ve never heard or seen any evidence of that.”
I answer him. “No, he stopped when she got pregnant.” I can’t help emphasising. “She was fourteen, and when she,” my teeth grind as I remember her words, “when she grew tits and a bush.”
“She aged out,” Tempest sums up on an exhaled breath.
“So why wait until now to put his hands on Trip?” Prez poses the question as if he doesn’t expect an answer, and simply continues, “And what’s he been doing in the meantime? Fuckin’ his wife? Could she fulfill all his needs if his preferred taste is for young girls who haven’t yet grown pubes?”
He’s made good points. There’s silence as we all consider his words.Why hadn’t he started on Trip earlier?
Waggling my fingers, I ask when eyes come to me, “And why’s Doc suddenly developed a taste for dicks, when his preference is for the female sex?”
Prez rights his chair and sits back down. He places his head in his hands, then looks up. “When Doc came to see me last night, he said some shit that got me thinking. The way he talkedabout Trip made it seem as if he had some use for him. It was imperative that he was returned to him. But why was Doc so insistent that he needed the boy? A troubled kid who can’t speak, and from what I saw of him, doesn’t interact with anyone. Doc wasn’t talking like a father who doted on his son. That got warning bells ringing. So, I started calling around. And after what you’ve told me, Short, and what Saint’s confirmed, some of the answers now make fucking sense.”
He pauses, and it’s not just to take a breath. I tense, as from his face, I can guess something bad is coming.
“You wanna know what I found out?” It’s a rhetorical question, and while he gives us space to answer, he continues without waiting for one. “I fuckin’ discovered if someone wants a boy or girl, kid or a teenager, or even fuckin’ full-grown – age, sex doesn’t fucking matter – if they want someone to molest, then they wouldn’t have to look any further than our oldfriends,the Mojave Devils.” He waits for our collective and probably predictablewhat the fucksto die down, before continuing. “Seems they’re part of a pipeline trafficking human flesh over the border. And they’re not above selling the sampling of their product, before they’re shipped out, to anyone who wants to pay for it.”
“Is there proof Doc took advantage of their services?”
Prez raises his chin to me. “No firm evidence, but it makes sense.”
Saint gets to his feet, wildly brushes his long hair back, and his face has gone red. “Well, that’s a good enough fuckin’ reason for me to put a bullet through Doc’s head. It’s our fuckin’ money he’s using to pay to defile young girls. Fuckin’ hell.”
Bullseye gives a twisted grin. “I’m adding a lot of two and twos together here, but I reckon Bronwyn aged out. Probably her reaching puberty turned him off. Doc needed someone to fulfil his needs, and the Mojave Devils have access to unwillingvictims.” He shrugs. “Might be they started to ask for more in payment, and he couldn’t deliver in cash.”
“What the hell?” Freak snarls.
Prez takes a deep breath. “Bronwyn’s an attractive girl, and twenty-two isn’t old. Traffickers wouldn’t turn her down.Sit the fuck down, Short!” He pauses a beat, then continues, “Bronwyn’s too visible. She’s at college and works at the hospital. There would be questions if she disappears. Last night, he didn’t seem worried about tracking her down. I think he thought she’d go crawling back in her own time when she found she couldn’t make it in the real world unsupported.”
“But Trip?” I frown.
“Yeah, Trip.” Prez breathes in deep. “Ever wondered why no one knew anything about the kid? Why they keep him under wraps?”
