I nodded in agreement.
“In any case, they declined to work with us. Your brother said he’d want to hear from you.”
“That fucking bastard,” Cole said. “All right, I’ll get them on the line and get their asses down here. Lane can be a pain in the ass, but he’s not as bad as he used to be. In the meantime, I don’t need to tell you what to do. You need to kill the Bandits and end this shit.”
“Well, I should add that we found out more about the man behind this all. King? He’s got clubs in Arizona and Vegas. And—”
“So that just makes the urgency of getting outside help involved all the greater,” Cole said. “But in the interim, we handle the task at hand. Gather forces, do what you need to do, and take out the Bandits. I’ll make sure you at least getsomehelp from California, but I’ll work on getting it all down here.”
We all looked at each other in pleasant surprise. The man had been in a coma for weeks, had only just woken up, and already, he was on top of shit and taking care of what he needed to do.
Justine was half-right. Black Reapers were the best kind of men. The worst was up for debate, but I couldn’t think of a single fucking other guy who would have handled shit like Cole was.
There was no one I’d rather have as leader.
“Well, someone give me a goddamn phone,” Cole said. “I have some choice words for my brother right now.”
