Page 48 of Conan
CONAN
I hadAuto check into Demi’s foster parents and their deaths. I wanted to make sure there weren’t any inquisitions into the way their life ended. From what he’s found so far, it’s ruled a murder/suicide and even if there are questions surrounding why the dipshit took that route, nobody has any suspicions that it is anything but how it seems.
Their families had their house demolished, deeming it to be unfit and dilapidated. They sold the land and someone has already built a new house on the property. So if Demi did leave any evidence behind, it’s been destroyed.
Auto has also been keeping a tab on David, Niles, Joey, and Liam’s tragic accident. Lucky for us, the empty bottles we tossed into their vehicle before toasting it, was in our favor despite how banged up they were. The investigator in charge of the crash ruled it as a drunk driving incident. I’m honestly surprised by that since some of their injuries might’ve been a bit more… shall we sayseverethan what would’ve happened in a wreck.
However, before they took their final breath, we force fed each of them an entire bottle of liquor.
Their blood alcohol levels were astronomical.
Sure, they should’ve been passed out and shouldn’t have been capable of getting behind the wheel and navigating their rental, but that was the picture we were trying to portray.
It was broadcast that as inebriated as they were, the residents of the town we set the scene up in are blessed they didn’t take anyone out, outside of themselves, during their drunk driving escapade. Not wanting their families to mourn them too deeply, we put some of the club girls’ panties in their pockets, just in case their clothes didn’t char in the fire.
But if they did, we were prepared for that too.
A mile marker or so before the crash site, we tossed their phones, so even if that was questioned, their photo albums were loaded with pictures of the girls gyrating on them. You couldn’t see the women’s faces, but you knew exactly what was happening.
Those photos were snapped before we dragged them down to the cellar. We had to call the girls back temporarily to snapshot that evidence, but it was worth it and we paid the girls well for their participation.
We also threatened them within an inch of their life if they ever spoke about it.
Even with each other.
Before we brought them into our fold, we made it perfectly clear how little their lives meant to us if they betrayed us. They understood, quickly, what the outcome for them would be if they ever went down that road. We don’t care what your gender is,you come at us, we’ll take you out. Even if we’ve tasted your pussy and felt it wrapped around our dicks.
We will respect them as long as they respect us. We will make sure all of their needs are met as long as they don’t play a game of Russian roulette.
They may be holes to the brothers, but they won’t be treated as such.
As long as they follow protocol and don’t turn their backs on us and stomp all over our generosity.
Their life with us and after us will be golden as long as they turn a blind eye and ear to what they see and hear.
We can’t always keep things on the downlow, it’s next to impossible considering we are who we are. You’ll never hear us make excuses for ourselves because we don’t give that single fuck if you agree with our actions and lifestyle or not.
“Yo, Conan. You with me?” Auto asks, bring me back around to the here and now.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just took a trot down memory lane. We let the new girls in on our shit, more than we ever have, and it has me concerned,” I admit.
“I’m watching them,” he tells me, showing me a screen that’s monitoring their rooms.
Both individually and collectively.
They have their own section of the clubhouse that we turned into a mini apartment complex.
Then he continues, “After Peaches and Kitty did what they did to Luna, I’m not taking any chances with this new stable of girls.”
“I don’t like that word, stable, use a different one in reference to them. We don’t sell skin and that makes it sound as if we do,” I chide.
“Noted,” he says, nodding his head.
“Have they said anything about their participation with the four dead men?” I ask, still twitchy about the trust we gave them.
“Not a peep. They seem to like it here. Did you know most of them were foster kids? They grew up in the system, in similar situations as Demi did.”
“Knew that. When we sat them down as they came in and interviewed them, it came up. Figured it’d make them humble and looking for a place to belong. We figured it’d keep them from flipping on us.”
