Cole
Fifteen Minutes Earlier
Lane and I sat on our bike, sitting behind a cadre of bikers led by Butch, Patriot, Phoenix, and Axle. About two dozen in total, they would roll out first, heading to the Fallen Saints’ clubhouse, tasked with making sure no one lived and no weapons, ammo, or ingredients for a DIY weapon remained. It was to be a savage, brutal, complete annihilation of the enemy that had haunted us for so long.
If someone surrendered, we would accept it, but if history was any indication, there would be no surrender. The clubhouse would all but have a new paint job of the color blood red. It would be vicious, savage, and thorough.
It would be what was needed to avenge our father, Shannon, Red Raven, Father Marcellus, and all of the other fallen members and friends of the Reapers.
“Gentlemen!” Lane said. “Go at it. Do your job.”
Axle nodded. He waved everyone forward, and like a military unit comprised of dozens of soldiers, marching and advancing as one, all of the bikes revved to life, moving as a hive, led by the Black Reapers’ VP and one of the most grizzled combat veterans. It was a sight to behold, Gray and Black Reapers coming together as one.
As soon as they had left the compound, I turned to Lane.
“Ready?” I said.
“Let’s do this,” he said. “Strategy one more time?”
I nodded.
“You are going to take about two-thirds of the crew and attack his house head-on, creating a sort of blunt-force distraction,” I said. “I’ll take a few of these guys and come in from the side, trying to storm the place like special forces.”
“Works for me,” Lane said. “Besides, I need to add another head-on attack to my resume. It’s something I’m getting used to.”
“Just make sure it’s not the last line on your resume,” I said.
“Please,” he said. “You think I’d buy a ring for Angela and die now?”
Wait, what?
“You’re seri—”
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said, but he had a guilty smile on his face. “We all got something to live for!”
He revved his bike to life. I would be damned; the asshole always seemed to be one step ahead. But instead of envy, I felt pride.
Yep. Lane had gone from the guy I was jealous of to the guy I was proud of.
I revved mine. We exchanged a look and a nod.Together.
And we were off.
The ride to Lucius’ home took but just a few minutes, and when we got there, I went to a side street, pulling with me the Gray Reapers officer Owen, a Black Reapers club member named Tomahawk, and a couple of other club members. We were a small force, but that was by design; we wanted to be less of an obvious target and more like the shadow of death, visible only when it was too late.
Lane took the rest. I saluted him, he saluted back, and about a dozen bikers in total roared up to Lucius’ house. After about a minute of silence had passed on our end, I brought my engine back to life and followed their trail.
Unfortunately for us, the setup of Lucius’ house was such that only one street led to its gate and its entrance, which made it impossible for us to take a back road. But so long as Lane had drawn enough attention with a front attack, we could drive up, circle around the perimeter of the house on foot, and sneak in the back or one of the balconies.
As gunfire erupted, I knew I had my answer on the distraction part. Now we just had to figure out the rest from there.
On the one hand, I wished Lilly had provided me just some information on the house, but on the other, who fucking cared at this point? Once we got inside the house, the mission was simple—kill anyone who wore a Fallen Saints cut, force the surrender of anyone innocent, and save Lucius for Lane and me.
We circled around to the left side of the house, about a hundred feet away. There were three guards standing just outside a porch, two up top, one by the stairs leading up to it. We circled around to the back, but there were even more men in the rear than at the side. It was quite a sight to behold, honestly. It was never a question of manpower for the Saints, but most of these men would have fled if they knew Lucius wouldn’t kill them on the spot.
“Taking the side,” I said.
The good news was that the space between the perimeter of the property and the side of the house was not completely flat; there were some hills, bushes, and even very small trees that we could hide behind. One-by-one, we moved as close as we could get without getting noticed, getting about twenty feet away.
