Page 71 of Mason

Lane took another long sip of his drink.

“I don’t think we can take on the King’s Men in Las Vegas,” he said. “But there’s another club in Arizona. The Devil’s Patriots.”

“I take it you’ve done some research on them,” Cole said.

He did not sound chipper at the prospect.

“I have,” Lane said. “Like us and unlike the guys here, they’re a well-established club. Some mean motherfuckers over there. But that’s exactly why I like them.”

A pause came. Cole had disbelief written all over his face. Lane, as usual, ignored his brother’s concerns.

“The Devil’s Patriots run in a small town just outside Phoenix. They’ve got a couple ex-military guys, a couple felons, some real shitheads. I don’t know if King is coming after them, and in fact, I don’t even know if they’re already on King’s side. But here’s what I do know. If we want to kill King, if we want to defeat him once and for all, we’re going to need help. And we’re going to need it from people we may not normally get it from.”

Cole sighed.

“This is a bad idea, Lane.”

“We don’t have any good ones, Cole.”

Cole knew that to be true. He just hated that right after a group like the Bernard Boys, he’d have to go to someone much darker and brutal. He’d have to work his persuasion like never before.

“So let me get this straight. We’re going to go to Arizona and try and persuade an MC called the Devil’s Patriots to join us. Maybe even make them us. And then, we’re going to use their numbers with our numbers, and we’re going to go after King and his MC.”

“Yes.”

Lane had a way of making it sound so simple. Cole knew it would be anything but.

And yet, what other option did he have?

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get started. If it won’t be the death of us, maybe it’ll be the thing that wins us this war.”