“I don’t like this, brother,” Cedar said as he put on his night goggles. “I didn’t sign up for this shit. When Bat used to talk about MC life, it wasn’t like this.” “What’re you gonna do?” I demanded. “The only way outta this life is through death or excommunication. You want your tatt cut outta your flesh?” “Maybe,” he snapped back. “I’d rather have an ugly scar than a Chinese bullet through my fuckin’ skull.
