“The old club was worth a million of this fucking joke of an MC. You think this is better? You’re dumber than I thought, but maybe that’s because the drugs have eaten that tiny fucking brain of yours.” Silence fell in the wake of his words. The old club? The lawless, twisted, violent club that Reacher and Stitch had been forced to shut down and rebuild? Was he serious? He’d only been with this club two years, only patched for one of those, so how the fuck did he even know anything about the old club?
