Bikers Made My Abusive Ex-Husband Disappear And I Still Don’t Know Where He Is

“I know what you’re thinking. You want him punished. I understand. But punishment creates problems. He goes to prison, he gets out eventually. Angrier than before. More determined. Violence? Same thing. If he survives, he comes for revenge. If he doesn’t survive, your brother goes to prison and you spend the rest of your life with that guilt.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“This way, everyone lives. Everyone stays free. And you never have to look over your shoulder again.”

“How many times have you done this?” I asked.

“You’ll be the eighth woman we’ve helped this way. Five ex-husbands and two ex-boyfriends are currently living productive lives in other states under our watch. None of them have ever come back. None of them have ever contacted their victims.”

“Why? Why do you do this?”

Thomas was quiet for a long moment. “My mother was a battered woman. My father beat her for twenty-two years until he finally killed her. I was sixteen. I found her body.”

His voice was steady but his eyes were wet.

“I spent most of my life angry. Did things I’m not proud of. But when I got older, when I took over this club, I decided to channel that anger into something productive. Something that actually protects women instead of just punishing men after the damage is done.”

He stood up and extended his hand.

“So that’s our offer, Sarah. Let us relocate Kevin. Let us give you your life back. All you have to do is trust us.”

I looked at Marcus. He nodded. “These are good men, Sarah. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t believe that.”

I shook Thomas’s hand. “Okay. Do it.”

Three weeks later, Kevin was gone.

I don’t know exactly how the conversation went. Don’t know what they said to him or how they presented the offer. All I know is that Marcus called me on a Tuesday afternoon.

“It’s done. He’s gone. Took the job. Left this morning.”

I didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. “How do you know he won’t come back?”

“Because he thinks this is his idea. He thinks he’s escaping his old life for something better. And the brothers out there will make sure he keeps thinking that.”

That night I slept without locking my bedroom door for the first time in eleven years.

The first few months were hard. Every time I heard a motorcycle, I flinched. Every time a car slowed down near my apartment, my heart raced. I kept waiting for Kevin to appear. Kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But he never came.

One year passed. Then two. Then three.

Thomas called me every few months with updates. “He’s still there. Still working. Still behaving.” That’s all he’d say. I didn’t ask for details. Didn’t want to know where exactly Kevin was or what his life looked like. I just wanted to know he was gone.

On the four-year anniversary of his departure, I met someone new. David. A quiet man who worked at the library. The opposite of Kevin in every way. Gentle. Patient. Kind.

I told David everything before we got serious. About Kevin. About the abuse. About the bikers who made him disappear. I expected David to run. Instead, he held my hand and said, “I’m glad you survived. I’m glad you’re here.”

We got married last spring. Small ceremony. Marcus gave me away. Thomas and several club members were in attendance. The women’s shelter staff came too. So did my therapist.

It was the happiest day of my life.

Last month, Thomas called with the five-year update. “He’s still there. Got promoted actually. Seems to be doing well. Never tried to contact you. Never tried to leave.”

“Does he ask about me?”

Continue READING