Graham’s face carried something Cassie had rarely seen.
Shame.
“When Tommy and Bull split the room, I kept saying I wasn’t choosing.”
Tommy looked at him.
Graham continued.
“I told myself I was holding the center.”
“Keeping brothers from turning into enemies.”
He shook his head.
“But silence is still a side when somebody needs you to speak.”
Tommy’s eyes reddened.
“You were my best friend.”
“I know.”
“Twenty years.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t need you to agree with everything.”
“I needed you to say I wasn’t betraying the club.”
Graham swallowed.
“I know.”
Nobody moved.
Cassie felt intrusive simply being present.
Tommy continued.
“When Bull started telling people I wanted to make us respectable for outsiders, you knew that wasn’t true.”
Graham nodded.
“I knew.”
“And you said nothing.”
“Yes.”
Tommy looked down.
“That hurt worse than Bull.”
Graham’s voice broke slightly.
“I know.”
Hank cleared his throat.
“For whatever it’s worth, Tommy…”
Tommy looked over.
Hank continued.
“We started the outreach program.”
Tommy stared.
“What?”
“Three years after you left.”
Maria nodded.
“Small at first.”
“Mostly rides.”
“Then contacts.”
“VA referrals.”
“Job connections.”
“Families called us.”
Tommy seemed unable to process it.
“You did it.”
Hank smiled sadly.
“Yeah.”
“Bull fought it?”
“Until the end.”
Hank paused.
“But even he started showing up to the hospital visits.”
Derek looked toward him sharply.
Hank nodded.
“Your father never admitted Tommy was right.”
“He’d rather have eaten his boot.”
A few nervous smiles moved around the room.
“But he helped anyway.”
Derek’s anger seemed to lose its shape.
Tommy sat down slowly.
Maria said:
“We never told you.”
“Why?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Graham finally said:
“Pride.”
Tommy laughed once.
Not happily.
“Fifteen years.”
Graham looked at him.
“Yeah.”
Tommy wiped his eyes.
“Fifteen stupid years.”
Derek turned and walked out.
The door slammed.
Tommy moved to follow.
Graham caught his arm.
“Leave him.”
“He needs—”
“He needs to decide whether his father’s anger belongs to him.”
Tommy looked toward the door.
Graham added:
“You had fifteen years.”
“Give him fifteen minutes.”
The gathering broke apart slowly.
Some members approached Tommy.
Others stayed back.
Cassie closed her notebook.
Maria noticed.
“Not writing?”
Cassie shook her head.
“I’ll remember enough.”
Maria looked at her carefully.
“Good answer.”
Later, Cassie found Graham and Tommy in the garage bay behind the bar.
An old Sportster sat on the lift.
It had been waiting for an engine rebuild for months.
Graham held a wrench.
Tommy stood opposite.
Neither talked much.
They did not need to.
One loosened a bolt.
The other handed over the correct socket before being asked.
Graham reached for a rag.
Tommy already had it.
Fifteen years disappeared in mechanical habits.
Cassie stood in the doorway.
Tommy said something too quiet to hear.
Graham laughed.
A real laugh.
Then his face collapsed.