Patrick leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at me. I didn’t claim to know what the man was thinking. He’d been gone too long and had a life outside the club, but he was a patched brother. His loyalties for a long time were divided. Now that wasn’t an issue. I needed him to be sure this was what he really wanted.
Patrick stared at me for a few more seconds before he leaned forward and said, “When I was deployed, I saw and did things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. The military isn’t for everyone, just like club life. You know that more than I do. I know that I can’t sit by and let my friends and brothers walk into the fray without backup. I could have died over there, Reaper. I knew that. Patty knew that, so did my boys. But I survived. I’m here now. A free man with no more obligations.”
“This is different and you know it.”
“I do. I also know that you have been looking for the head of the Society. I know where to find him. While deployed, I wasn’t just doing what the Marine Corps wanted me to do. I may have worn the military-issue camouflage, but I never took my patch off. I was loyal even then. Still am.”
“What the fuck are you saying, Patrick?”
“Did I ever tell you about my job for the Marine Corps?”
“No.”
“I was an intel specialist. My job was to gather intel on major players, locate them and run them up the chain. I was good at my job too. One of the best. Thanks to some of the brothers in the club, they kept me in the loop, " he said, reaching into his back pocket and sliding a photograph across the table towards me.
Instead of looking at it, I said. “They weren’t’ supposed to do that.”
“You should be glad they did because the clue to finding the head of the Society has been right in your backyard this whole time. The new mayor of this shit town, Adam Worthington III, works for the Society. After Harold Givens died, the Society facilitated Worthington’s position to keep tabs on you, your woman and the club. Do you know what I also found out? The wedding planner you hired, Sheila Worthington, she is the wife of the new mayor. You let the snake you’ve been trying to find, slither into the club. You need me. I want back in and you need to look at that photo.”
Turning the photo over, I looked at the truth before me.
Holy Fuck!
It couldn’t be this easy. But it made a lot of sense.
From everything that mother fucker had told me from the information he knew, I knew he had someone watching me and the club. I just never thought to look outside the clubhouse.
Of course, the Society would put someone in power to watch over us. The mayor of Purgatory was in the perfect position too. He controlled the town, businesses and the police station. This mother fucker had eyes on me and mine for months and I never even considered looking at the damn town itself. But that wasn’t the only thing I learned.
The photo told me volumes. I didn’t want to know how Patrick got his hands on it, but the brother had just solidified his return to the club.
Reaching for my wallet, I dropped a few hundred bucks on the table. Getting to my feet, I looked at Patrick and said, “Meet me at the clubhouse in an hour. Tell Patty to pack light. Only what you need. I want all four of you at the club by sundown and Hangman come ready for a fight.”
“I always am brother.”