“We’ve tried your way for the last two years. Look where it’s gotten us.”
I regretted the words as soon as I said them. It was the type of biting remark that usually had the two of us back at odds, unable to reach an agreement of any sort. Lane, for his part, visibly recoiled.
But then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let out the breath slowly.
“You’re not wrong,” he said. “All right. You’ve got a point. Let’s put you in charge of this run and let’s see what happens.”
Silence settled between us for a few seconds, curious to see if this was Lane’s way of trolling or mocking me. There was undeniable tension in the room. I knew I was one more sarcastic or biting remark away from losing Lane and having this brief reunion brought to an end—again.
But if I was right?
Maybe this would finally come to an end.Just be humble, Cole. Be like your father. Not like Lane was before.
“Deal,” I said. “So you would be open, then, to us attacking Lucius at his house?”
Lane’s grimace became more obvious.
“Far be it for me to say let’s slow down here since I used to be the one that liked to tell people to push ahead while I stayed back,” he admitted. “But this is crossing into very dangerous, one-chance-only territory. Don’t forget, he’s got a daughter that I’m pretty sure lives with him. And as far as I’m aware, she hasn’t done anything to harm us.”
Lane stood up, looked at a photo of our father, and turned back to me.
“If we attack them without regard for collateral damage, getting innocent individuals involved in the crossfire,” Lane said. “Would that not just be a repeat of what happened over a year ago? Except instead of Shannon, it’s his daughter, Lilly? Either way, innocent blood gets shed. It’s disturbing enough when you have not-so-innocent blood getting shed. Maybe we become—”
“Look, I know,” I said. I wasn’t frustrated with Lane anymore; I was just frustrated with the notion that no matter what we did, there was no good, let alone perfect, answer. “Let’s make a distraction at the Fallen Saints’ headquarters. If Lucius is there, we target him there. But if he’s not, if we time the attack at night when he’s at home, then I can go quietly. I’ll take... I dunno, Phoenix and Patriot. Two young guys who know what they’re doing. We’ll go to his house. If it’s just the three of us, it’ll be easier for us to launch a sneak attack and kill him while sparing his daughter.”
Lane folded his arms.
“You’re trying to Navy SEAL his ass like bin Laden, huh?” he said. “Go in under the cover of darkness? Patriot would like that.”
“Less people, less chance for unnecessary conflict,” I said.
But even now, Lane did not look like he was on board with the plan. I couldn’t ever recall him looking and acting so cautious. I couldn’t ever recall myself being so aggressive.
“Let’s talk to the club,” Lane said. “But just remember, we gotta do what Dad would do.”
I’m not sure we agree on what Dad would do.But I didn’t say anything. I just nodded in apparent agreement and walked with Lane back to the gathering of the Reapers.
* * *
I had been in the Black Reapers’ church hall many times, but I had never seen it so crowded that people were standing shoulder to shoulder.
The concept was simple—get every able, warm-bodied person associated with either organization into one room and lay out the plan. It didn’t matter if the member was a prospect, a Vice President, or even one of our retired, honorary members who had stepped aside in the past couple of years. If they could ride a bike, if they could shoot a gun, if they could hold their wits together enough to distinguish Reaper from Saint, we wanted them here with us.
Despite our disagreement, I had seized upon Lane’s willingness to let me be in charge. I was fucking energized. My confrontations with my brother had always been tinged with a sort of guilt, and my battles against the Fallen Saints on behalf of the Black Reapers had always felt temporary.
But this was “the big one.”
This was the one where we had everyone. No one had gone on vacation. No one had mustered up an excuse—in fact, no one had even shown any hesitation in agreeing to come.
Everyone saw this as the end, and there was nothing to spur action quite like the knowledge that we had a limited opportunity to end them before they ended us.
Lane and I stood at the front of the room, with one hand each resting on the President’s chair. The two clubs had their respective officers near each other, which meant, among other things, Phoenix and Butch stood by each other. I think the fact that they did so spoke louder than Lane and I standing side by side, at least in terms of rallying everyone else together.
“Everyone,” I said, and almost instantly, what small chatter there was died down. There hadn’t really been much to begin with; I couldn’t ever recall a room full of Reapers act so orderly. “When I went to visit my father’s grave today, I thought that I was going to ask him for advice and how to best move forward. But then I realized something. The way Lane and I best work together isn’t when we sit down and try and talk things out. It’s when we just fucking charge ahead.”
“Damn right,” a few members said.
“We’ve been doing this wrong for so long,” I said. “We’ve been trying to sit down and hash out our differences and then take action, rather than taking action and letting that guide us accordingly.”
