Chapter Seventeen
A fter dropping Ava at work, Pat arrived back at the basement. There was no sign of the club pussy, and none of the men looked in the mood to party. They all had glares and were pissed off. He got it.
There was no sign of Bull, but he spotted Rusty at the bar. He was not nursing a beer either, but what looked like a mug.
“Are you all right?” he asked, stopping by the other man.
“No, I’m not. I’m pissed off,” Rusty said.
He looked toward the basement.
Pat stayed silent as he saw the anger radiating off Rusty. “I should be fucking down there, but because of this, Bull wants me to just sit it out. Fuck!” Rusty slammed his fist down on the bar.
“You want me to grab a couple of the women for you?” Pat asked.
“Fuck, no. Fuck this shit.” Rusty pushed back his chair and stormed back toward the corridor that led to their rooms.
Even Rip and Bud looked miserable.
Pat didn’t stick around and made his way toward the basement, where Bull, Grant, and Sweets were.
The scent of urine was strong in the air, and as he stepped onto the floor, he looked toward the man that had attempted to attack him.
His face was dripping blood. The clothes had been removed from his body, and there were cuts and bruises all over.
Pat was not surprised by what he saw. His whole body was covered in ink. There were names on the man’s body as well.
“What did you find out?” he asked, moving close to Sweets.
“He’s not talking about the location of the cartel. The names on his body are the men and women he’s killed. There is also a little kid on there as well,” Sweets said.
Pat looked at the man. He was thin, yet muscular. From the heavy ink, he knew he had to be deep into the cartel. He was not a contract killer, though. The cartel was hiring both street thugs and contract killers.
Bull stepped away after landing a punch to the man’s gut.
Something told Pat they were running out of time for something. This was the feeling he got in the middle of the war zone. He had come to rely on his gut, and right now, it was screaming at him. Pat looked at the brothers around him, and he thought about the club, along with his woman.
Ava was his. After what she saw this morning, she was not backing down. The town of Carnage was in danger, and Pat was done talking about this.
He did no more than walk forward. The brothers had known what he was capable of at one point, but he had been a mellow man, the perfect gentleman, finding his feet within the club.
Adapting to life that was more diplomatic.
That shit was gone now, and as he pushed past Grant and Bull, he grabbed the man around the throat and looked him in the eye. He didn’t hold back.
Pat knew what his abilities were, and desperate times called for desperate measures. There were rules to be followed, when their opponents followed the same rules. Civilians were left out of the equation, and it was between the club and the cartel.
The cartel had changed the rules. They were the ones that used innocent people, then killed them. It was time to stop playing by the rules and start getting answers. He was done playing games.
“I want you to look into my eyes as I choke you to death,” Pat said. He felt absolutely nothing.
Killing someone did not bother him. Saving the club was what mattered. Taking back the town was vital, and he looked at this piece of shit that had attempted to kill him in broad daylight, while Bernice had been there.
The cartel used people and dogs, and anything else they could get their hands on, and that pissed him off. These animals needed to be put down. They had lost any kind of status once they went after dogs and kids. He was done playing games.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Grant asked.
Pat ignored him, and the guy before him went from being cocky to afraid.
Pat saw it in his eyes. He truly believed he wasn’t going to get killed, that the club had a code and might have even been afraid of the cartel.
This fucker was very much mistaken. Pat was not afraid of going after the cartel.
He was not afraid of dealing with fuckers like this.
“I don’t need you alive,” Pat said. “Where there is one of you, there are hundreds, probably even thousands that bow down to the cartel. You think they’re coming to get you?
” Pat smiled. “No, they’re not. We can have our fun with you, stab you a little, or I can just keep choking you like this, get you to that point where you’re almost dizzy, and then let go.
” Which he did, allowing him to take multiple breaths, and when he was feeling a little better, he grabbed him again.
“You want to play this game, I’m happy to.
You see, I’ve got nowhere to be. Choking you will be fun.
It means nothing to me.” He then reached for a blade that was quite close.
“Shit, Bull, what the fuck is going on?” Grant asked.
“Pat, what are you doing?” This came from Bull.
Pat slid the knife into the man’s gut and held the blade in deep. “I can make this hurt for a long time. I can make you wish for death, long before I even grant it.”
The man looked at him with fear, and Pat just stared at him and waited. Holding onto his neck, choking him, easing his grip, and then tightening it.
“They’re going after the old man,” the guy said, gritting his teeth. “I was to go after you, and the old man is next.”
Pat looked at him. “Old man?”
“The dude that was ... out in the cabin. We got orders to follow you everywhere and report back. That is all.”
“Report back?”
“A number. Fuck. Stop. Please.” The man’s voice was hoarse.
Pat turned toward Bull. The knife was still in the man’s stomach.
“Go,” Bull said.
Pat was up the stairs with Grant following behind him. He didn’t have time to let any of the brothers know as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed his father. Of course, his father was not one for technology. He had a cell phone, but rarely was it on his person.
“Fuck!” Pat pocketed his cell phone, climbed onto his bike, as he would get closer to the cabin with his bike than he would the car.
Riding out of the parking lot, he hit the gas and rode harder and faster than he had in a long time. There was no way he was going to let his old man die right now. Not like this. Not because of the club fucking up.
Grant was the only one in pursuit behind him.
Pat didn’t know how much time had passed, but he got as close as he could on his bike, stopped, parked his bike, and climbed off.
Grant was right there beside him. “Why the fuck are we stopping?”
“Because if those pieces are shit are not alerted, I want to have the element of surprise.”
“Do you think your dad could take them?” Grant asked.
“I don’t think they’re going to get him easily.
” Pat didn’t know what skill his father had.
He’d been out of the club for a long time now.
Although, the old man kept in shape. Pat didn’t know if he was going to be a match for the cartel.
With a gun in his hand and a knife in the other, he started to make his way through the small wood.
His mother had been the one to want a secluded cabin near the woods, surrounded by trees and nature. His father had always said it was like he stepped into a horror movie.
Grant flanked him as they made their way toward the cabin. It was already dark, and Pat scanned the woods, and saw the first guy. There was a glare of a cell phone, and Pat made his way toward that glow. Without a sound, he thrust his blade into the man’s neck, taking the cell phone from him.
“Holy shit, you really were a fucking machine, weren’t you?” Grant asked.
Ignoring him, he made his way through the path and watched. Not everyone was going to be lazy and answer a call. He didn’t know how important his dad was to the cartel, but so far, one man. Pat didn’t see anyone else.
“What do you think? Three or five?” Grant asked.
Pat got a little closer.
“If it’s three, then that’s one lookout, two for the attack. That’s sloppy for a man they don’t know.”
“But your dad is also old, maybe they’re not respectful?” Grant asked.
He couldn’t even believe he was talking this way.
“Unless it’s one lookout and four for the attack,” Grant said.
Pat got closer to his father’s cabin and noticed the lights inside suddenly went dark.
“Shit, what the fuck does that mean?” Grant asked.
“Dad knows.”
“How can your dad fucking know?”
“Because he was part of the club, and he knows the cartel. I bet he came back here and put shit in place to see who was coming after him.” Pat finished what he said, and then he heard the gunshot followed by broken glass.
With Grant right behind him, he charged to the front door, and it was then he saw another man coming out of the shadows.
He tackled him to the ground, dropping his knife as well as his gun in the process, with a grunt.
Before he could respond, there was a blow to his face, which made him dizzy for a second.
The guy on top of him was pulled off, and he watched as Grant took the knife and slid it into the man’s neck.
There was no time to thank him, as a second guy attacked.
This one had a knife and attempted to get to Grant, but Pat was there and charged forward, slamming into him and dropping him to the ground.
He slammed his fist against his face, once, twice, and lost count as he finished him off. Grant grabbed him, and Pat shoved him.
“It’s done.”
The front door opened and Grant and Pat spun to see Doc, with a shotgun and a very stern fucking expression.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Doc asked.
“That’s all the thanks we get for saving his sorry ass?” Grant asked.
Pat laughed.
“Saving my ass. I already took out the two in back.”
“Yeah, well, we beat you, because we got fucking three.”
“So, they’re a five-people party,” Doc said. “I must be pretty fucking special to them, to send a five party.”
“Or they just wanted you dead, Pop,” Pat said.