There were plenty who tried to talk me out of it but my mind was made up. I’d got into the business to save lives, to help the helpless, not to accept bribes and hide up shit if the perp had the right bank account. I was done all the way, there wasn’t much I could do about the illegal shit that was going on in the force but I’d be damned if I was going to let myself be tainted any farther.
It was the only thing I had control over, my ability to walk away. And even with threats hanging over my head I’d walked. I was sure some thought I would spill the beans on their shady dealings but I knew better than to wade into that pool. The shit went to the top so there was no way for me to bring them down in the courts, why bother trying? There were other ways to deal with them if I was so inclined. So I’d countered their threats with some hard evidence of my own that showed them pretty much that I could take care of myself and they’d got the hint and backed the fuck off.
All I wanted to do now was enjoy the benefits of having my own place and never again answering to anyone. No one except Ms. Holly that is, who was pretty sure she owned daddy’s ass and wasn’t shy about using that shit. In those early days after the force she was my mainstay, I measured my every decision against what it would mean for her future.
So when a couple of the guys I’d put away in their misguided youth came seeking me out, I wasn’t exactly what you would call thrilled. I’d just turned my whole life upside down literally. I’d divorced my wife of almost ten years, leaving behind the most precious thing in my life, my little girl. Even with the new bar I felt at loose ends but I was determined to stay focused on this new avenue that I’d opened up.
But no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t get away from the cop in my blood. So when these guys came to me with a proposition, it didn’t take long for them to talk me around and we ended up forming a sort of club I guess you could say.
These guys were some serious hard asses that I’d put away for everything from drugs to carrying concealed when they were in their teens. I can’t say that I’d kept in touch with them much after I’d helped to send them up, though I had made an effort in the beginning before life got in the way. But for whatever reason they remembered me, and the way I’d handled them back then. I won’t lie, there was a sense of pride knowing that I’d made that much of a difference in someone’s life.
Somehow these fuckers heard that I’d left the force and were now rivaling the cops for my ear. When I wasn’t listening to the same complaints I’d once had, the same things that had precipitated my leaving the force from my former colleagues. I was being bombarded by the ex cons turned bike crew vigilantes. They claimed that’s not what they were but the jury was still out back then. These days there’s no question as to what we are, but that too is reliant on who you ask.
When they’d first told me what it was that they were into I have to say I was proud as fuck of the three misfit delinquents who’d apparently turned their lives around. Instead of terrorizing the neighborhood as they’d once done, these days the boys were into protecting their streets and the people who lived on those streets. Hearing that I played a part in their turn around wasn’t exactly hard on the ears either.
After I’d heard them out and got the gist of where they were going it wasn’t long before I was onboard. And since it was such a great cause, something I believed in, I’d talked a few of my old buddies from the force into joining up. My new family hadn’t been too fond of that turn of events but once I’d convinced them of the benefits of having more eyes and ears spread out across the county they’d caved grudgingly.
Chapter 3
Now almost three years later, we have members in three states and the surrounding counties. Some were cops and some were ex cons, who’d done time for petty shit when they were younger like my guys, but we all had the same goals. It was humbling all these years later to realize that these guys had more integrity in their gut than most of the assholes I’d served with on the force. Here they were, the dregs of society; guys who’d been in some form of trouble at one time or another in their lives, but they’d chosen to turn their shit around instead of continuing down that road. The fact that they were a scary looking bunch of fuckers was neither here nor there.
Some less informed beings equate us with the hell’s angels, but we’re of a different ilk. Our specialty is cross-country rides with a purpose; our focus is on women and children in fucked up situations. Either abused kids or women who were trying to get the hell away from some asshole who promised them forever and then subjected them to a life of hell. I guess you can call us a relocation organization since we’ve moved more women out of state and into protective shelters across the country than anyone else I know of.