Page 6 of Eternally Ginger

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Ghoul

None of us were given much information as to why our presence was requested again. Yet, we all had gotten the call. “Bet the law is backing out of the deal after we hunted and killed all but one off their list,” I pointed out as we deliberated around the table before we dropped everything for the FBI.

“Could be.” Wily nodded, his thumb and index finger rubbed his eyelids, and then squeezed the bridge of his nose. “But if that is what they’re doing, I highly doubt they would invite us there only to rip their immunity from us. I don’t like them any more than you, brother, but I don’t think the fuck-sticks are that stupid.” He half-heartedly chuckled. “Least, I hope not for their sake.”

We all understood what he was getting at without having to explain every nitty-gritty detail. We never thought twice before killing someone. If feds tried to pin all the murders on us and take even one of us into custody, our body count would rise instantly. It wouldn’t matter how many of them were packing. By enlisting the RBMC to be murderers for hire, they’d unknowingly given us permission to get creative and really hone our craft.

* * *

“Thought we wouldn’t be here again,” I opened my mouth for the first time since we’d arrived at the FBI offices. I had hoped that being in this exact chair nine months ago would have been the last time. My eyes focused on FBI Agent McFaye while my eyebrows pinched together.

She sat at the end of the table and glared right back at me, not replying immediately. “Well, Ghoul, that makes two of us. This matter required more of an in-person meeting, though, as it’s a bit sensitive.” She slid a manila folder across the table to me, and as I opened the flap, she spoke, “Do you recognize this woman?”

My eyes widened as they roamed the photograph. “No, should I?” I questioned, flipping the picture over for my brothers to inspect.

“Don’t know the braud.” Tin Man shrugged, and his eyes glanced to Spider for an answer. After a long pause, he shook his head in response.

“Well, that is disappointing. It will make the next part harder,” she stated.

“How so?” I eyed her suspiciously, not liking how open-ended each of her replies was. “Get to the point, lady,” I all but huffed, raking my fingers through my beard, and then flicked the photo down the table with my fingertips.

“She is,” she paused to open the flap of another folder, brought out a piece of paper, and tapped her finger against it, “Hazel’s mother.” She blinked slowly and sighed, acting almost hesitant as she ran her hand up the length of her neck and into her hair as her body nervously shifted. It wasn’t a large drop in self-assurance, but it was enough for me to notice. She’d reacted similarly one time before, during the first meeting we had with her. She was not telling us the entire story, and I refused to allow myself to react without all the facts. Family wasn’t an easy subject for Ginger, and the only parent she had was her mom. Even if the woman wasn’t in her life at the moment, Ginger still clung to the happy memories from her childhood. It was undeniable by the way her eyes glossed over and she lost herself in the moment as she talked about them.

“The only thing I’m at liberty to say is that we need her brought in for questioning.”

“So, get her your damn selves.” We weren’t their errand-boys, weren’t at their beck and call.

“Actually,” her finger pushed a pair of glasses back onto the bridge of her nose, “we’ll need Hazel’s help for that part as well.”

“Then why isn’t she here?” Spider barked defensively before even a word could leave my mouth. I wasn’t the only one who had grown quite protective of her since our lives reconnected.

“We wanted to warn you first. I don’t imagine this will be the easiest of subjects for her.”

“Bullshit!” I shouted, and my fist pounded down on the glass table. The woman had about as much personality as a dry spaghetti noodle, so the fact she claimed to care about a person she’d met only once was an obviously blatant lie.

She made a slight noise to clear her throat. “Regardless of what you think, Mr. Blakely, we are not the enemy. We,” her hand waved around the room, acknowledging all of us in attendance, Bastards and federal agents alike, “have a common goal: to rid the world of bad people. I don’t believe Hazel falls into the category of ‘bad people,’ so her getting hurt isn’t something I want if it can be prevented.”

“Why should we believe you give two shi—”

“Since you’re now the President of the Cleveland Chapter, this was me being courteous. Me extending an olive branch to you. I would like to have your cooperation moving forward,” she shrugged as her eyes rolled, “but it is not a necessity.”

My palms flattened against the edge of the table, and I pushed my weight onto them to stand. I was about to break my rule of not hurting women.

Wily hopped to his feet beside me, and his hand squeezed my shoulder. “You have his full cooperation,” he nodded and spoke through a fake smile. Wily really took his position as Sergeant At Arms seriously, as anyone should, but this wasn’t our clubhouse, nor was it our church. This was the FBI headquarters, and he didn’t need to keep any type of order for this meeting, yet here he was, doing it anyway when no one asked it of him.

My head cocked sideways, and my eyes glared resentment in his direction. “Thanks, brother,” I forced through gritted teeth, knowing he was looking out for the club’s best interest and Ginger’s, too. It did not mean he didn’t just piss off every nerve I had, though.

“What is it you need of my old lady?” I said, making it a known fact how important she was and that she was mine. If they hurt her in any form, they would be dealing with me directly. There would be no deliberation of what should happen to them. I would break every damn rule I lived by to get even with them.

“We need her help in finding her mother, who is currently a person of interest. We have reason to believe she has been kidnapped by Nicholas Kingsley. Her last known whereabouts were twenty minutes outside of Elizabeth City, North Carolina.”

The name she spoke was one I recognized. It was the last remaining name on the original murder-list. We’d tailed him for a while, but the fucker was smart. Every time we found him, it was in a public place. He was never alone, and I meant never. He was good. He never so much as flinched a muscle when we were around. Might have been he was clueless, but I doubted that. He always gave us the slip somehow or another. I was sure he had to at least hear about us. While storming through the FBI’s list, we made quite a name for ourselves. However, when I heard people speak, they never mentioned the government being the ones who ordered the hit, which was exactly how the FEDs wanted it. I was certain. They didn’t want to get a black eye for killing people instead of arresting them and throwing their asses in prison to rot—which was where they sprung me from. But they didn’t want their name anywhere near ours and would deny they hired us if they were ever questioned about it. The truth was, it was surprising they didn’t insist we not wear our colors when we met with them. Agent McFaye more than likely had considered the requirement, but even she wasn’t that much of a dumbass.

“You’re kidding,” I said in disbelief as my hand cupped my mouth. Up till now, I had kept Ginger out of as much of this as I could because she didn’t need to be implicated with the rest of us. I wanted to protect her, not throw her right into the middle of all this, and I’d pretty successful. I guess I no longer had a choice. Ginger was just getting back to some semblance of normalcy, and now she would be pulled into the precise thing she had tried so hard to separate herself from—her father’s past.

Not only that, Agent Mcfaye mentioned one of the places I could pinpoint its exact location without looking it up. Hell, I could practically drive there with my eyes closed. In Elizabeth City lived the one woman I feared in this world, my Aunt Hadley. She was a strong-willed true Southern woman whose ways of living and hair hadn’t changed since Nixon was in office. She was a firm believer in rules and hell-bent on everyone abiding by them. Back when Mom and I would visit her, she constantly rode my ass over one thing or another.

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