“We’re here to see Cole Carter, please,” Zack said, taking the lead as the nicest and most normal looking of the three of us.
“One moment,” she said, as if doing her job was the hardest thing in the world.
Mason and I folded our arms. Zack tucked his hands into his jeans pocket. We waited in silence. I heard someone come into the building, but they gave us a wide berth. The woman spoke into the phone to Cole, giving no indication by her tone or her words if she was going to let us in or not.
“Top floor, elevator back and to the left,” she said, almost sounding disappointed to have to let us up.
“Thanks,” Zack said as Mason and I began walking back.
We rode to the top also in silence. When the doors opened, Cole was already waiting for us in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” he said.
“We want to talk to you about our plan,” Mason said.
“Take it up with Brock. I’m busy with the wife and—”
“We want to kill.”
That got Cole’s attention. I pressed on.
“I find it highly unlikely the Bandits aren’t connected to this somehow,” I said. “I know you said you’re reaching out to your brother, but that’s just communication. We need fucking action. There are two Bandits of importance to us. One named Damian. One named Eduardo. We want to kill one of those fuckers.”
Cole snorted.
“So why are you coming to me?”
“Because Brock will do whatever you say, and what you said before was to exercise patience.”
Cole folded his arms and nodded.
“When we were in California, we always said that if someone had a chance to kill the leader of the Fallen Saints, they should do it,” he said. “Problem is, it’s not like going to get liquor at the local store. It’s a whole process to take him out, and he’s not going to go alone. I don’t think killing Damian or Eduardo or anyone you call important is going to be that easy.”
“We don’t think it will be,” I said. “But these fuckers vandalized your bar, Cole. They need to fucking pay.”
“I know,” Cole said. “I know.”
He sighed, looking between the three of us. I really had no idea which way this was going to go.
“I’ve wanted to give you guys freedom to do what you want. There’s a reason I don’t take part in runs, and it’s because I got a family to take care of. I don’t want to be that involved. But this is different. The enemy has followed us to New Mexico. That wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be destroyed or, at most, reduced to so few members that they all would disband and favor survival over fighting.”
And so now it’s our job to squash out whatever remains.
“You need to keep Brock in the loop of whatever you do,” Cole said. “And he is your president. If he says to stand down, you do it. The two…the three of you.”
He stopped. He’d spoken of Mason and me, but not wanting to be rude, he had expanded his words to Zack.
“You’re bloodthirsty. That’s good to have that part of you in a club. But you need to balance it out. I’m not going to let the streets of Santa Maria run red because you three got off a leash.”
“We’re not going rogue,” Mason said. “We just know we can inflict some punishment. And we’re going to fucking do it.”
“So then do it,” Cole said, and I let the slightest of smiles form on my face. “But you all had better damn well keep Brock in the loop. Even if you kill both Damian and Eduardo, if Brock doesn’t know, that creates trust issues. And if you don’t have trust, you don’t have a club.”
“Got it,” I said.
But I was already thinking ahead. Brock was too focused on defense, not on offense. Until Cole gave him the OK, he wasn’t going to give us the OK. And in that regard, we had to test the idea that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“Now get the fuck out of here,” Cole said. “And say sorry to Leslie downstairs, will you? She sounded like you all were about to rob her.”
