The Truth About Unspeakable Things by Emily Myers (people reading books txt) 📗

by the nameless President of the brotherhood. All digital records each member possessed with blackmail on other members and the girls they abused were all wiped from the digital drive and the computers that were previously allowed access to them.

Even the jump drive that I gave my mother and the copies I made for myself were of no use after the brotherhood caught wind of the breach. The second the jump drives were plugged in, a virus attacked the files and destroyed everything else on the computer with it.

It looks like Beaux’s secrets will stay with him even in death, as well as the blackmail footage of the girls who were manipulated and used by the members of the brotherhood.

To make matters more complicated, when the media first broke the story, the members’ names were not disclosed, only the names of the top U.S. cities with Club Gent locations After the digital drive was destroyed, this was all the police had to work with. U.S. Officials were in a frenzy looking at city blueprints to try to find the secret club locations. They still haven’t found all of them. The ones they have discovered, including the New Orleans location, provided no DNA evidence.

News articles published in the days following the initial break described the stench of bleach and impeccably clean surfaces. It appears cleaning crews were immediately sent to the brotherhood’s Club Gent locations.

With each day that passed, the brotherhood’s plan to conceal their actions unfolded, limiting the evidence that could be used against them as an organization.

Julian and I left New Orleans the day he was cleared from the hospital, but not before providing the police with the New Orleans Club Gent location, my article, the video evidence I gathered at Club Gent, and the testimony I gathered in my efforts against Beaux.

The video footage helped the police make some arrests via facial recognition here in the city. But without video evidence of their crimes against women and without the testimony of the women they undoubtedly raped, the men were released.

Through the girls I initially spoke with while gathering evidence against Beaux, the FBI was able to find more girls claiming they were assaulted by men of the brotherhood. Most of them were able to name and physically describe their attackers, much like Lauren Jameson identified Beaux on behalf of her friend, Ashley Roy.

To this date, fifty arrests have been made based on the testimony of survivors. Of these arrests, ten cases were referred to prosecutors. Half of the cases have been dismissed due to a lack of evidence. Half are still being fought. This is the reality of survivors of sex crimes. Regardless of the brotherhood and its extensive efforts to cover its tracks, we live in a world of he said/she said. A world where two percent of sexual assaults that are reported to police end in a felony conviction.

Because of this, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the brotherhood was not prosecuted as an organized sex crime ring. Despite more than fifty women confirming its existence and the video footage of underage drinking and the exploitation of women at the New Orleans Club Gent location backing them up, the brotherhood turned into a modern myth. We all know it existed, but without the monsters to stand trial for their actions, the tale of the brotherhood is just a story, a nightmare that has forever changed the lives of countless survivors.

My father was the only member to speak up and validate the testimony of the women who came forward. He told the truth about the brotherhood. He was murdered in prison shortly thereafter, before serving as an official witness. I did not attend his funeral.

The remaining members in custody were released, because no one testified against them. Now, any justice that will be served rests solely in the hands of the women now speaking up and the law system meant to protect them.

Julian and I have been on the run for a year, though we didn’t let ourselves think of it that way. We traveled to beautiful places and made beautiful memories. We stayed on the move, never knowing if the brothers were searching for us to exact revenge.

My father exposed them. Julian’s brother was a member. And I contributed evidence to the FBI. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the brothers would want to keep us quiet. Even my mother, Bill, and Eva went into hiding.

There were times I wondered if we’d be running the rest of our lives, much like the brothers are now. There were times I considered leaving Julian, not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew he’d be better off without me. But I never could. Of all the things he’s sacrificed for our relationship, I couldn’t abandon him, even if it was for his own good.

Mason fled New Orleans the day Julian was shot. In the days and weeks after the initial break, Julian resisted the urge to reach out to his brother. Not that he would have even known where to begin to look. Then weeks turned into months. And we began to question if we would ever see Mason again. Was he alive? Was he in jail? Where did he go?

A small comfort came to us while visiting Paris. We figured if the brothers were planning anything, Mason would know. If they planned to come after us, Mason would find us and warn us. This comfort gave Julian and I the strength we needed to return home.

My mother moves around the kitchen preparing her famous pork chops, mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, peas, and rolls. I sit at the kitchen island, watching the flames of the gas stove flicker back and forth before being concealed by a pot filled with water.

Julian sold Cole Creative the second we returned to New Orleans. In learning of his brother’s role in the brotherhood, paired with his father’s infidelity, he felt it best to cut ties and start