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His head whips around, and he smiles. “Sup, Ringer?”
“Follow me,” I say, turning back to head inside.
Patch silently follows behind me as I head back into the room. I hold the door open and close it behind him.
It’s funny when a brother earns his patch. The prospect either knows without a doubt what’s about to happen, or they’re shitting their fucking pants because they think they’re in trouble. I remember trying to think of what I could have possibly fucked up when I walked through these same doors before receiving mine.
I kick my seat back, dropping down into it again.
“Know why you’re in here?” Ghost asks, looking straight into Patch’s eyes.
Patch shakes his head.
“I have a question for you, Patch.”
“What is it, Pres?” Patch asks. I watch in amazement as his eye contact never falters.
Shit, I’m 30, and my big brother’s intimidating gaze gets me all the fucking time. This kid is no older than 21, and he holds his own.
“Why do you wear an eye patch?”
Patch sighs, cracking his knuckles in some sort of nervous gesture. “When I was a kid, my pops liked to toss me around. Hit me a little too hard one night. I lost my eye.” He lets out a small laugh. “Few years ago, my mom’s shitty fucking dog ate my prosthetic. Can’t afford a new one.”
Ghost nods, gesturing to the empty seat to my left. “Take a seat.”
Patch looks down at the chair as if he doesn’t know what to do. “Sit at the table?”
Only patched members can sit at the table. The kid isn’t stupid.
“Sit down, Patch.”
As soon as his ass hits the chair, Reaper tosses the box towards him and everyone around the table’s hard gazes break into smiles.
Patch lets out a gruff breath as the lid of the box is lifted, and his patches are on clear display for him to see. “Fuck,” he grunts, emotion lacing his voice.
“Welcome, brother,” Ghost says with a smirk. “First order is to use your first cut of profits to fix your fucking eye.” Ghost tosses a wad of cash at the kid and claps his hands.
“Seriously?” Patch looks around the room at each brother individually as if we are about to rip the patches away from him.
“Seriously, kid. Although, we’re still calling you Patch. That shit’ll never change.”
Patch chuckles and shakes his head, not taking his eyes off the patch in his hand.
It’s a pretty emotional thing when you earn your patch. It’s what you work for the entire time you’re here. To be accepted into the brotherhood is overwhelming. You’ll never be alone again. You’ll never have to worry about no one having your back ever again. You have a family.
“Maggie’ll get that all sewed up for ya, kid.” Horse smiles at the newest member.
Now I know why he’s here. No way in hell would Horse allow someone to be patched in and not be here for it.
“Now that that’s settled, everyone’s free to go. That’s all I needed,” Ghost announces with a smile.
Before we leave, Tiny updates us on his search to find out what could have happened to Horse. The entire time, my eyes stay settled on him to assess his reaction. Trigger’s Bel Air was also trashed to shit, and the cameras at the plaza were conveniently turned off at the time of the incident.
I can feel Ghost’s anger rather than see it. His face remains cool and calm, but if anyone can tell when my big brother is upset, it’s me. The smallest tick of movement in the muscle below his eye shows me everything I need to know.
My brother is absolutely livid.
With no new updates, Ghost finishes out church, and we welcome Maggie into the room to fix Patch’s cut as a new member. No more prospect patch for him.
