Plain black leather jacket.
No club patch.
Dark jeans.
Gray through his beard.
He stood beside the motorcycle for nearly a minute before approaching the building.
His hand rested on the door frame before he entered.
Cassie stood.
He looked at her.
“You’re Cassie.”
She nodded.
“You’re Tommy.”
He smiled.
“Apparently nobody here can keep a secret.”
“You’re club history.”
“That sounds worse.”
He looked around.
Nothing in the clubhouse had changed dramatically.
Same bar.
Same pool table.
Same photographs.
Different faces.
Tommy’s eyes stopped at one picture on the wall.
Bull Mason.
Derek’s father.
Tommy looked away.
Cassie said:
“My dad’s coming.”
“I know.”
“Are you nervous?”
Tommy laughed once.
“Terrified.”
Cassie liked the honesty.
Graham’s truck entered the parking lot two minutes later.
He got out.
Saw Tommy’s motorcycle.
Stopped.
Cassie watched through the doorway.
Graham walked slowly toward the clubhouse.
Tommy stood.
The door opened.
Fifteen years stood between them.
“Graham.”
“Tommy.”
Neither moved.
Cassie wondered whether she should leave.
Then Graham said:
“You want coffee?”
Tommy swallowed.
“Yeah.”
“Coffee would be good.”
That was how the reunion began.
Not with apologies.
Coffee.
Hank arrived twenty minutes later.
He walked into the clubhouse, saw Tommy, and stopped.
Then crossed the room.
The hug nearly knocked both men over.
“You bastard.”
Hank whispered.
Tommy laughed into his shoulder.
“Missed you too.”
Maria arrived next.
She stood with her arms crossed.
“You look terrible.”
“So do you.”
“Good.”
Then she hugged him.
Word spread.
By late afternoon, almost twenty members had gathered.
Derek arrived last.
He walked inside.
Saw Tommy.
The room quieted.
Tommy stood.
Derek remained near the door.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again.”
Tommy nodded.
“Didn’t think I’d come back.”
“Why now?”
Tommy looked toward Cassie.
“She did.”
Derek stared at her.
Cassie immediately said:
“I didn’t ask him.”
Tommy nodded.
“She didn’t.”
“I heard about the project.”
“Saw photographs online.”
“Started thinking.”
Derek’s face hardened.
“My father spent years thinking too.”
Tommy looked at him.
“I know.”
“No.”
Derek stepped forward.
“You don’t.”
“He died thinking you betrayed this club.”
Silence.
Cassie stopped writing.
Tommy looked at the photograph of Bull on the wall.
“Your father and I loved the same thing.”
Derek laughed.
“You left it.”
“I left because we were destroying it.”
“You wanted to change everything.”
“I wanted to help veterans.”
“You wanted outsiders walking through here.”
“I wanted men coming home from war to have somewhere to go before they destroyed themselves.”
Derek’s jaw tightened.
“You called my father selfish.”
“I did.”
“Was he?”
Tommy paused.
“Sometimes.”
Derek stepped forward.
Hank moved slightly.
Graham raised one hand.