But the truth was...
It was kind of exhilarating. There was a certain thrill with having faced death head-on and not only having survived but have accomplished the mission.
Maybe next time, though, I just shouldn’t stand upright in front of enemy fire and dare them to shoot at me.
“That’s combat, though, man,” Patriot said, somehow quite calm despite having just gotten fired upon. “You risk getting shot. That’s part of the deal.”
“I know,” I said, still grimacing. “I guess this is our new normal, huh?”
“Well, to some extent, I hope not,” Patriot said. “Would rather not see another friend die needlessly.”
Again, him saying that...
“But I guess as long as the Fallen Saints are trying to encroach on us because of Roger’s passing, yeah.”
So it is the new normal, then.
It is the new normal to have to expect that hell is gonna get rained upon us because everyone will think I’m weak.
Maybe that is justified to some extent. Maybe the rat told the Hovas and the Saints that I was weak and would be easy to kill.
Not so easy now, huh?
Still, I knew that after a night like this, I just needed two things. First, some quick medical attention.
And then, I needed a goddamn drink.
Angela
Recent days had compelled me to turn my attention to a new target, one that seemed to no longer exist.
Cole Carter.
But I knew that Cole was still out there, somewhere. The problem was that no one needed him, at least from the perspective of the authorities. He wasn’t wanted on murder. The death of Shannon, though tragic, had more than enough witnesses and testimonials that Cole’s wasn’t going to make a difference. Everyone there had pinned the death on the Fallen Saints, which seemed more like a fuck you to the Saints than an actual cause of justice.
Given that, Cole had no real reason to flee from the authorities.
Instead, he seemed to have fled from his brother.
In the days since I had seen Shannon’s grave, I had spent much of my time making calls to some of the spots where I figured a man like Cole, a young, single man who loved cars and motorcycles, might have gone. I asked owners of shops and stores within a fifty-mile radius. I asked bar owners of popular spots within a fifty-mile radius. I even ran background checks on anyone who showed up anywhere in Cole’s history and called them to see if they knew anything.
But as far as the world knew, Cole was gone.
Maybe he’d assumed a new identity. Maybe the death of Shannon was something that he could not bear, causing him to change who he was entirely. Maybe he’d gone to Mexico or some other South American country, never to be seen again in the States.
It was kind of a damn shame, too. Lane had me convinced he had not done it, but he sure as hell had been there that night. It just was—
A stern knock came at my office door. Startled, I leapt in my chair. It was well after eight in the evening, and there was no reason for anyone else to be there. I assumed the worst and began wondering if someone from the Reapers was coming by to “teach me to stay in my lane” or some other nonsense like that.Really wish I had a gun right now.
Slowly, I stood up, preparing to answer it, but then the door opened. I stood tall, prepared to take on whoever came through. The person that eventually did was even worse than I could have imagined.
Beth, my boss.
“Angela,” she said. “Have a seat. We need to talk.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice trailing off, nervous about where this was about to go.
She did not have anything in her expression that suggested anything other than anger and aggravation. This wasn’t going to be a surprise happy talk, nor was it going to be a sympathetic one.
