Assassins MC Pt. 20

I explained my interest in Annie. I told him I was here representing her family, and they wanted to arrange for her to come home. I lied, of course. Her family thought she was dead, but I didn't want to let on my interest was personal. He explained Annie died almost a year ago, and they released her body to the local morgue who may still have it. I asked him how she died, but he dodged the question. I kept trying to get an answer from him, but I could tell after five minutes I would get nothing further. I had his name and number and could always look him up later.

After talking with the doctor at the morgue, I learned they cremated Annie. The doctor explained she had died of trauma to the head. However, if that hadn't killed her, she would have died from malnutrition. They starved her to the point her organs were shutting down, and she showed signs of renal failure. When I asked about a police report, he told me there wasn't one. The police don't normally investigate the deaths of foreigners, especially when a wealthy family is involved.

That just pissed me off. Luckily, the morgue keeps the ashes of victims in storage for one year before discarding them. With her ashes in hand, we returned to our hotel. That man, and probably his family, abused Annie and killed her with no repercussions. I didn't like it, but there was little I could do. It burned me up to admit that, and I thought about little else on our flight back.

I found Annie's parents, both then in their sixties. I explained what happened to their daughter and told them I learned of her when I was overseas opening my factory. I left out that I was a member of the club that sold her and that I met her previously. Nothing good could have come from that. Yes, I understand I was partially responsible for Annie's predicament. That's something I would have to live with. Nothing could bring Annie back to her family, but at least I could give them a bit of closure.

Her parents, when she disappeared, joined a group that advocates for missing and exploited women, called Endangered. They put up flyers, spread the word about missing women, and when they can, bring them home. They put us in contact with the organizers, and I made a substantial donation to the group. I wanted to help them, but I didn't want to advertise my involvement. This was partially because of my past, but also I could best maneuver around the human sex trade if people didn't know what my true intentions were.

The organization gave me the contact number to a family that had their eighteen-year-old daughter disappear and asked for my help. Her name was Ruby, and she traveled out of town to see a man she met on the internet. We received all the information we could, and I turned it over to our IT department to search for her. I had Roger make more introductions, this time smaller operators around our area. To them, I was just another man with money looking to buy women. That would be the cover I used for years to come.

When the Assassins folded, it left a vacuum in the human sex trade in our surrounding area. Small operators quickly filled the void, followed by a few larger organizations. It pains me to admit that some women we released found themselves under the heel of these men. We paid to have the women resettled and helped them get out of the life, but some squandered it and found themselves back in the trade. I learned quickly that some people you can't help.

We were not having luck finding Ruby. I did what has worked for me in the past: I focused my resources. I opened up an investigative division within Santana and staffed it with retired detectives and agents. I hired in more IT to develop and run software that could search the internet, combing sites that posted ads for sex and social media. It took us over a month, but they were finally up and running. Once the algorithm was complete, we could track down Ruby's trail.

We narrowed it down to two organizations. I approached both as a buyer and wanted to see their women. I told them I wanted to buy a few women as entertainment for a resort I was opening up in the islands. The first organization showed me around. They operated several stash houses, each housing six to ten women. I didn't find Ruby in any of them, but I bought a couple of women. I hated leaving women behind, but I couldn't maintain my cover by taking every woman I came across. I helped the women I bought, either reuniting them with their families, or helping them get back on their feet.

The second organization is where I found Ruby. When they were showing me around her stash house, she was being fucked and abused by two men in a back room. Ruby was small, maybe 5'2, and she was skinnier than in her photos. She was a brunette, had small breasts, maybe an A cup, and had little in the way of curves. She had a pretty face, but otherwise unremarkable. She was grunting as the men slammed into her, and when they slapped her she would cry out. The man in front of her muffled her cries by ramming his dick down her throat.

The man I was walking around with explained to me she was being punished for refusing to meet a customer. He explained this customer would pay them a large sum of money to get rough with the women. Ruby refused, so these men were roughing her up as a lesson to her. He told me if they treated her rougher than the man would, she would take the job with the customer, the lesser of two evils. I wanted to kill these men right there, but had to hold back.

Yes, I know, how can I be angry at these men abusing Ruby when some would say I do the same to my women. The answer is choice. Ruby doesn't have a choice; she's subjected to this treatment without having a say. My women have a say. Each has their own motivation for wanting a relationship that includes submission and punishments. Dominant/Submissive relationships are rarely understood by those not in one. Anyone that sees our relationship would say I'm in charge, but they would be wrong. The submissive person controls the relationship when he or she gives permission to the dominant person to control them. People on the outside just see it as abuse, but people on the inside see it for what it is: a relationship that benefits both people.

I asked them to let me examine Ruby for purchase. The men let her go and walked out of the room. Ruby immediately put herself in the bed's corner against the wall and curled up. She was looking down, refusing to make eye contact with me or anyone else. She was terrified. Isabella, Julie, and Ann were with me, and I told the man Isabella was my trainer and would check Ruby out. I lied, of course, but I needed to find out how she was and was sure Ruby wouldn't talk to me.

We left Isabella and Julie alone with Ruby while they escorted me and Ann around the house to look at the other women. Ann followed us, all the while busy taking notes as we walked. She was getting proficient at being my assistant, anticipating my needs before I knew I had them. Her notes were something she started on her own, and these would become invaluable when I had files created on all the human sex traffickers we interacted with. Little details like what they smoked and drank to the type of security they used would all come in handy later.

The men asked me many times if I wanted to try one or two of the women. I refused, telling them it's like a drug smuggler who uses his own product; it never ends well. I explained these women are my business, and if I buy them, I would treat them like any other asset or investment. This seemed to make them relax a bit, and I'm sure they must have thought I was a cop when I first walked in. I hadn't thought about that beforehand, but there would probably come a time that I would need to have sex with a woman to prove I wasn't law enforcement.

Most of the other women in the house were engaged in normal activities. This was late morning, and the women were just waking up after their late nights. Some women were showering in full view, as the men took all the internal doors out of the house. Some women didn't bother wearing clothes, with a few sitting naked around the kitchen table eating what looked like cereal with no milk and food directly from cans. The house was terribly lit, with the only light coming through the few filthy windows and a couple of small lamps. The walls were all painted white, and all were dirty. The house was run down, old, and had an odor that was probably a mix of dirty carpet and mold mixed with way too much cheap perfume.

When we returned to Isabella, Julie, and Ruby, they were sitting on the bed talking quietly. I pulled Isabella aside and asked her how Ruby was, and she informed me, "She's in awful shape, Rich. They drug her daily to make her compliant, but even then she can think clearly enough to know a dangerous situation. The man they wanted her to serve last night previously put two women in the hospital. They plan on sending her to him tonight, so we really need to get her out of here now."

Julie added, "The men barely provide enough food for these women, often eating only once a day. They beat them regularly to keep them in line. We really need to do something. Can I kill these men? I really want to."

I'm sure she did. I know I did. I had to remind her she needed to keep her composure. She would see more of these situations, and it was impossible to save everyone. We would do our best to shut them down, but that was for another day. Today our focus was on Ruby. We would get her back home and count it as a win. We needed to dance with the devil, so to speak, and foster a good relationship with these traffickers. That would enable us to expand our reach and help more women in the future.

Julie pointed out that, with our tattoos and our past, we were also devils, but now the good kind. Isabella likened us to holy devils, or as she called it, Santo Diablo. I liked that name and would file it away. It would be an apt description for us, often performing evil acts in pursuing a greater good.

I talked with Ruby's owners and worked out a deal for her and two others. I wanted to buy more, but I didn't have that much free money. Our businesses were just getting off the ground, and I had most of my assets tied up in new construction and expansion. That wouldn't be a problem in the future, but I was limited now. I transferred the money to the men and walked out with three women.

The two women I purchased with Ruby were previously reported missing from other states, and we ensured they all made it home after an exam by our doctors. The only people who knew I rescued them were their families, and I asked them to keep it quiet. If anyone inquired, the families were to tell them the women escaped and made their way back home. I didn't even tell the people at Endangered that I returned Ruby, choosing to stay as anonymous as I could. They weren't stupid and figured it out, but without me confirming, it kept a distance between us I wanted to maintain.

As the months passed, Endangered would send me the case files of other missing women. I would have my investigative division look into each one, and I would either send the information to Endangered for them to follow up on, or we would undertake the rescue ourselves. I chose the cases in states or with organizations we had no experience in, as I wanted to expand our contacts as much as I could. This eventually led me to expanding overseas and into Central and South American in our pursuit of some of these women.

My plans were to build an extensive database, help track down the women, and turn it over to the authorities when possible. I would work hands on to gather information, but that was as far as I wanted to go. I wasn't planning on being a white knight rescuing every woman in distress. For one, it was expensive, and two, there was no way to rescue them all. I could save a few, only to leave dozens behind. It wasn't something I wanted to shoulder.

During the next year, the businesses were all running, each flush with cash. We helped rescue women, mostly by providing information to Endangered or local authorities. I only became involved in their rescue if it was necessary. My home life was good, but it would never reach a point of perfection. Nicole would still get combative, challenging me, continuing to make me fight for her. Beth was as submissive as ever, but only with me and anyone associated with me. Julie was always trying to push the envelope further, with sex and risky behavior, but between me and Penny, we kept her in check. Penny continued working toward her medical degree, becoming quite proficient. Isabella was my constant companion and guardian angel. She took care of me, and I showered her with attention and affection. Her episodes were diminishing, but when she had one, I ensured it ended quickly.

We worked long hours, but the weekends were spent at home together. We were around the pool most of those days. It was one of those Saturdays, as we lounged at the pool, that we had a visitor ring us at the front gate. He identified himself as an agent of the FBI, showed his badge, and I rang him in. Isabella went to greet him, and I sent Julie just in case something happened. I wondered what the FBI wanted with me now, probably trying to pin something else on us. I thought about calling my lawyer, Peter, but held off.

Julie and Isabella brought three men back with them, one walking with the women and two a few feet behind. Each of these men wore black suits and sunglasses. Definitely FBI. The first to see them was Beth, who was walking toward me from the far side of the pool. I was looking at Beth and noticed her freeze. Beth was wearing sunglasses so I couldn't see her eyes, but I could tell what she saw shocked her. Her legs gave out on her, and she crumbled straight down and collapsed onto the deck. Penny and Nicole, who were close by, rushed to help her sit up.

I turned toward the men standing with Isabella and Julie to see what caused Beth to have that reaction. The man in the front took off his sunglasses. It was at that moment, when the sun hit him exactly right, that I recognized him. Standing in front of me was my dead father, older now, but there was no mistaking him. He just looked at me, smiled, and said, "Hello son. Long time no see."

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The scene shifted back to Rich in his solarium with the three agents. Isabella was sitting next to him, listening to her husband retell stories she's heard many times before. Samantha came in and informed the men it was time to close for the day, that her grandparents needed their dinner before bed.

"Thanks again, Rich and Isabella." The lead agent said, "We will be back tomorrow to continue. That must have been quite the shock to have Brian come back into your life like that."

"Yes, that was quite the shock." Rich replied, "We will tackle how Beth and I responded to him coming back from the dead next time. That will begin the second act of my life and how he set my company on the trajectory to become the force it is today. Everything we had done in the past paled to what was coming. The Assassins Motorcycle Club was in the rearview mirror, allowing us to move past it."

"I thought they brought the club back." The agent mentioned.

"Yes, we did, but that was many years later. Sometimes things come full circle and you end up where you began. However, we have a lot of years in between those events. I will see you gentlemen tomorrow and have a good night."

Samantha escorted the agents out. She prepared dinner for her grandparents, and when they finished eating, took them up to their room. Isabella and Rich lay in bed watching television before falling asleep. As he lay there with his wife next to him, Rich went over everything he told the agents. His life didn't go the way he pictured when he was a teenager. It took a drastic turn when he first saw Julie abused by that asshole Bob, and it all led to this. He had an enormous family, too many grandkids to count, and more money than he could ever spend. His greatest treasure, however, lay next to him in bed. Isabella was worth more than everything else Rich owned.

Rich thought about the next part of his story and looked forward to telling the agents. He had few people left who hadn't heard his stories and loved reliving some events. That was for another time, however, and now he was tired. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer that he and Isabella would wake up tomorrow together. He had done so many bad things in life that he wasn't sure God even listened to his prayers, but he said them anyway. He hoped for redemption, but he wasn't confident that day would ever come.

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This concludes the novel, Assassins MC (Motorcycle Club). This novel represents the first part of Rich's life. The continuation will be in the next novel, Santo Diablo. I will post that under 'Novels and Novellas.' The new classification will allow me to take the story beyond nonconsensual/reluctance, even though some sections will include that tag. I hope everyone is enjoying the story, and if you are, there is much more to come. I hope to see you in the next novel.