“Exactly.”
Tommy looked toward the photographs.
“After 2001, we started seeing younger veterans come home.”
He looked at Graham.
“Iraq.”
“Then Afghanistan.”
“Men and women twenty-two years old carrying things we recognized.”
Nobody interrupted.
“I wanted Iron Wolves to build an actual outreach program.”
Derek said, “My father said we weren’t therapists.”
“He was right.”
Tommy nodded.
“We weren’t.”
“But we knew how to sit beside somebody who hadn’t slept properly in six months.”
“We knew how to call again when somebody stopped answering.”
“We knew how to put a wrench in a man’s hand and give him something to finish before dark.”
Tommy’s voice tightened.
“I thought that mattered.”
Hank lowered his head.
Tommy continued.
“Bull thought formalizing it would change the club.”
“He thought grants, partnerships, veteran organizations, counselors coming through here would turn Iron Wolves into something it had never been.”
Derek said, “He wanted to protect it.”
“I know that now.”
“You called him a relic.”
Tommy closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
“You embarrassed him in front of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“You pushed half the club to choose.”
“Yes.”
Tommy did not defend himself.
That seemed to anger Derek more.
Graham finally spoke.
“And I said nothing.”
Everyone looked at him.
Graham’s voice was quiet.
“I kept telling both of them I understood.”
Tommy looked toward him.
Graham continued.
“I told Bull Tommy had a point.”
“I told Tommy Bull was scared of losing the thing that saved us.”
“And when the vote came?”
He paused.
“I abstained.”
Cassie watched Tommy’s face.
“That hurt worse than Bull voting against me,” Tommy said.
Graham nodded.
“I know.”
“No.”
Tommy shook his head.
“I don’t think you did.”
“You were my best friend.”
“Twenty years.”
“I wasn’t asking you to agree with everything.”
“I was asking you to stand somewhere.”
Graham looked at the floor.
“I thought staying in the middle meant keeping the club together.”
Tommy’s eyes reddened.
“It meant I stood alone.”
No one moved.
Cassie felt uncomfortable simply witnessing it.
This was not material.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
Hank cleared his throat.
“For what it’s worth, Tommy…”
Tommy looked at him.
“We started the program.”
Silence.
Tommy blinked.
“What?”
“Three years after you left.”
Maria nodded.
“Small at first.”
“Rides.”
“Job contacts.”
“Counseling referrals.”
“Guys bringing veterans here on Sunday mornings.”
Tommy stared.
Derek looked away.
Hank continued.
“Bull fought it.”
“Every step.”
Derek’s jaw tightened.
Hank looked at him.
“But eventually he stopped fighting.”
Maria added softly:
“He donated the first trailer we used for outreach events.”
Tommy sat down.
“You did it.”
Graham nodded.
“We did.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
No one had a good answer.
Finally Graham said:
“Pride.”
Tommy laughed once.
His eyes were wet.
“Fifteen years.”
“I know.”
“You stubborn old bastard.”
“I know.”
Derek stood suddenly.
His chair scraped back.
He walked out.
Tommy started after him.
Graham caught his forearm.
“Don’t.”
“He thinks I hated his father.”