“Things can get kind of complicated,” he said, as if aware of the questioning thoughts in my head. “In any case, I can’t have just Patriot go with me. We need at least three to do a hit-and-run.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “You’re going up against the entire Saints with just the three of you?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“To their clubhouse on the other side of Springsville.”
I didn’t pretend for two seconds to know how the dynamics of MC rivalries worked, but I sure knew that having three people go and attack an entire clubhouse worth of enemies was a bad idea.
“Why? Why not wait until everyone is healthy and then organize something?”
“Because we have a rat in the club, Angela,” he hissed. “Look, I know it’s stupid. I’m not going to sit here and say we’ll definitely win. But you know what? I have to show my club that I’m their leader. I have to stand up for them and defend the club’s honor. I know that’ll put me in the line of fire, but—”
“That’s not leadership, that’s just stupidity,” I protested, but Lane didn’t look like he was having any of it. “Just promise me it’s an actual hit-and-run, Lane, and not some suicidal run.”
“Oh, hell no, I’m not that insane.”
You’re not here. But are you going to be at the moment? Are you going to be able to step back and account for all the necessary variables that could save you?
Can you do that, Lane? Can you recognize the difference between aloofness and caution?
“Look, I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s time I took on greater responsibility, anyway. Showing courage is easy when you literally have to pull a trigger to save your life. It’s much harder when taking no action is the safer decision in the short term. This club has done a lot for me, but I have not done a lot for it. I need to take the Saints on.”
But the three of you against everyone...
“And if nothing else, if we get attacked on the way, then I can say with almost complete certainty that Father Marcellus is the rat.”
“You don’t think it could be Patriot?”
I didn’t think the question was a bad one, but it seemed to chill Lane severely. He bit his lip, looked straight ahead for several seconds, and took numerous deep breaths before he could simply speak.
“That’s my brother,” he said. “My real, truest brother, I have. No, not by family. By something better. He’s no Cole.”
I bit my lip from saying anything else.Maybe you need the help of family right now. Even if you hate him, family never quits on each other at the end of the day.
“Okay,” I said. I wasn’t ready to just let Patriot off the hook, but I also knew such conversations were futile and useless right now. “Just promise me one thing, then. Promise you’ll come back alive. I already lost one friend. I don’t need to lose someone who’s just as special.”
Lane turned to me, looked me up and down, and pulled me into a sweet embrace before kissing me on the top of my forehead.
“I promise,” he said.
I had much to say to him at that moment. Like how everything Beth had said about Roger Carter were things I was starting to see in Lane. Like how Shannon had truly picked a great man. Like how it was a small wonder with his determination that people looked up to him.
But I didn’t get the chance to say any of that, because he stood up, said he’d see me again, and then walked out of the room. I bowed my head at the pew, my eyes occasionally glancing up at the stained-glass window, wondering if Lane was going to need divine intervention to get through the night. I’d grown up religious but didn’t practice much, but right then and there, I was certainly praying to whoever and whatever would listen to me.
I really was finding myself drawn to Lane in a way I had never felt with anyone else. Maybe circumstances made it hotter and more exciting than it actually was. Maybe in three or four months’ time, I’d wonder what the hell I’d gotten myself into and would find a way to back out as gently as possible.
But for right now, I just wanted to hold on to him as long as possible. Whatever it took, I wanted to make it work. If Shannon had chosen him as a serious boyfriend—and this before he had seemingly grown up quite a bit in the last couple of weeks—then I knew he was worth holding onto.
I said a silent prayer, punctuated it with “Amen,” and rose from the pew. I grabbed my things and prepared to head home, knowing staying here would do nothing good.
And then, for the second time that day, I got an alert on my phone that made my mouth gape.
But this time, it wasn’t a breaking news alert. Instead, it was an email from Beth with news I could not believe.
“We found him.”
