“We know, we're still trying to piece everything together. Now, Matrix did a thorough background on Grimm, and before I read it, I am warning you now that you’re not going to like it.”
“Just get on with it,” Reaper growled. I could tell Reaper didn’t like it when we had to dig around in a brother’s past. Hell, I didn’t either. There were some things best left alone. We all deserved our own privacy, but sometimes circumstances made that damn near impossible.
“Malachi James Miller was born September 9th, 1995 in Barstow, California, to Abigail and Samson Miller. He has two biological brothers, Balthazar, the oldest, and Ezekiel, the youngest. Both are members of said club, the Golden Skulls. Now, Ghost was right when he said he came from a religious family. Abigail was a nun in training when she met Samson, giving up the nunnery to be with him. As for Samson, he too was religious, raised in the Catholic church his whole life, until his parent’s death, where he spiraled into a deep depression before joining the Skulls.
“Honestly, it was a happy home life. Mom stayed home with the kids while Dad played. I mean that Samson had an affair with a woman by the name of Shirley Owens. She was a cut-slut for the club back in the day but quickly left after discovering she was pregnant.
“Shirley had four girls with Samson. The youngest is just thirteen the oldest is twenty-three. Now here’s the part you are not going to like. When I looked into Shirley Owens, I found a restraining order against Malachi. Four of them to be exact, one for each of her daughters.”
“Please don’t say it,” Shadow moaned, his eyes closed.
“I’m sorry, Shadow, but according to two medical records and three police reports from the San Francisco P.D., your two older sisters were molested. They found semen and DNA that matched Malachi.”
“Fuck!” Shadow roared, leaving church, slamming the door behind him. I couldn’t blame him. None of us could. No one wanted to hear that their own brother molested their sisters.
“Because Malachi was underage, he didn’t serve time, and his record was sealed. Shirley moved the girls to Phoenix, Arizona, where they reside today. As for Malachi, your dad, Reaper, thought it best if he stayed within the confines of the clubhouse, so he could be watched.”
“Did Ghost know?” I asked.
“No. According to everything I found, his father and your father Reaper kept it from him. He never knew what his brother did. Now, Malachi did well within the club. Once he became a patched member, there was nothing on him, not even a parking ticket. Hell, he finished school and even attended college, getting a degree in Childhood Education. Graduated at the top of his class. But Matrix and Sypher refused to believe that someone a young as Malachi would just stop. History shows that once some pervert gets a taste of the nasty, they don’t quit. And they were right.
“Over the years, when the club would go on raids with the FBI to bring down traffickers, Malachi would disappear for a few days afterward. No one thought anything of it. That was until Sypher saw a pattern. Every town the FBI would hit, a woman would be found dead a week or two later. It was so damn random that nobody put it together. I have reports of women who were believed to be trafficked, gone missing, or just ran away, only to found dead days later after the FBI and this club raided supposedly rescued them.”
“Fuck,” Reaper roared, then yelled. “This club has been feeding his need for years, and nobody thought any differently. Is that what you’re saying?”
When Phantom nodded, Reaper cursed loudly, throwing his chair across the room. “Son of a bitch!”
“That’s my belief. Every woman that was murdered was no older than twenty, slim, with light blonde hair and fair skin.”
“Ari,” Massacre whispered.
“Yep. The bastard has a type.”
“Where is he?” I asked. I was itching to kill someone, and though he was a former brother, I would gladly put a bullet in his head.
“No clue,” Phantom replied. “Matrix and Sypher have him geo-tagged, so if he ever shows his face, we’ll know his exact location.”
“And Jekyll?” I asked.
“Now, that bastard is a piece of work. Aaron Davis Chapman, born August 11, 1980, in Chattanooga, Tennessee, to Roger and Maybelle Chapman. Chapman has been in and out of jail since he was sixteen. In the beginning, it was petty shit, like, animal slaughter, cockfighting, dog rings, B&E, and Grand Theft. When he turned eighteen, he prospected with the Black Vultures, working his way up in the club. Since joining, Chapman has done several stints for rape and assault and some drug charges. However, he hit the big time when he killed a prostitute in a fit of rage. That cost him twenty-five to life in Folsom but was released early because of good behavior.”
“Good behavior, my ass,” I muttered.
“Exactly, when I dug deeper, it was discovered that the warden was a cousin to the club President, Vain. It took some doing, but they were able to buy his way out of jail. Now, shortly after he was released, I found several restraining orders placed against him. Most were from women in the surrounding area, but one, in particular, stood out. Your mother, Donna, had a restraining order out against him, Bullseye.”
Yeah, I remembered that day when she found out he was being released. I’d never seen my mother so scared.
“Anything else?” Reaper asked.
“Only that for the last five years, the Black Vultures have been running drugs and guns and working in conjunction with the Collector trafficking women. Thanks to Matrix and Sypher, we’ve been able to keep track of all the suspected players that work or subcontract with the Collector. Though Sypher still has reason to believe that Sabastian Capri is the Collector, he hasn’t surfaced in a while, so he can’t verify it. Also, Samuel Patterson was in the news again. Poor bastard was killed in a head-on car crash when his breaks went out last weekend in upstate Washington.
“The Disciples of the Word are still in business, though. I am just waiting to see who the new leader will be. Also, Jeffery Darden is back on the radar. Apparently, that asshole has decided to run for the state senate in Virginia.”
“That’s all we need is another weasel in office.” Chaos whispered, and I couldn’t agree more. These fuckers were like cockroaches. As soon as we got rid of one, five more would take their place.
“I was going to wait to bring this up, but times of the essence. There’s chatter on the dark web of another big buy coming up. According to the write-up, we’re talking about kids and women Reaper. The sale is in a few weeks.”
Reaper sighed. “Where?”