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Cooper looked at him but said nothing. Zach could see him trying to process that perspective, his natural tendency to think he was always right struggling against Zach’s obviously reasonable point.
“He didn’t even have a chance to change his rocker,” Cooper grumbled sadly.
“But he’d made his commitment,” Caleb said. “Zach’s right. Gargo was Laughlin, born here, patched here.”
“Buried here,” Reed said and set his hand on his father’s shoulder. Ben said nothing, just glared at the world.
“I got a question,” Kai said. “You said there’s a way the Bulls do these things. Does that mean there’s a club a ritual for the dead?”
Caleb answered that. “There are traditions, but they’re not laws, and they don’t get in the way of tribal custom. That’s what you’re asking, right?”
Kai nodded. “There’s a way we bury our dead. I’m not saying Gargo should be buried our way. He’s not Mojave, and our ways are sacred to us, as your Osage ways are sacred to you. But maybe there’s some of it we could do for him. We cremate our dead, we gather and make their story. We send their names with them when they go. Uncle?”
Lonnie was nodding. “An outsider might think of it like a funeral in reverse—the wake before the cremation or burial. Though what we do is not a party, and white funerals I’ve been to, the wake seems almost like a dinner party.” He thought for a second, then sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s answer the question of where before we tackle the how,” Caleb said. “Coop, what do you think of a vote?”
Cooper looked around the table. “I don’t think we need a vote. You’re right. Gargo’s ours and should be buried here with us.” He turned to Caleb with a stunted smirk. “I don’t suppose you’ll take that news to Eight for me?”
Caleb answered Cooper’s smirk with a grin. “I’ll talk him down if I can, but the news should come from you, and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” After a contemplative sigh, Cooper continued, “Gargo wore the Bull for more than twenty years, and we’ll put him to rest right, with his new rocker and SAA flash. Tulsa will come for the funeral. Probably the Horde, too, from Missouri and SoCal. And other clubs we’re friendly with. We’ll put the word out. Volkov will probably send some lackey, but whatever. We’re gonna need a minute to put all that together, so for now, let’s just put our heads to it, and we’ll come back together in a day or two to put a plan in motion. Meanwhile, we need somebody to manage the money and make sure we can pay for it all.”
“I’m Secretary-Treasurer,” Zach reminded him, “so that’s on me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not S-T, so we’re gonna need somebody else to take that work.”
For that, Zach sat forward without even thinking, and he was upset enough the spasm of pain through his middle barely registered. “What? Why? Because I got shot? I know it was stupid to let that chick shoot me but—”
“Zach. Shut up,” Cooper said. “I want you at SAA.”
Now Zach could only stare dumbly.
Coop’s characteristic smile landed fully on his face for the first time in days. “Yeah, in hindsight you wouldn’t have a hole in your liver if you’d shot through the windshield while that car was coming up on us, but we had no fucking idea who it was, and if it had been an innocent, we’d be in a world of hurt. The first thing any of us knew was she was a woman, and I can’t say I think it’s stupid you didn’t haul up and send her brains out the back of her head before we knew what she was about. You didn’t make a mistake, Zach. What you did was identify the right place for us to be, without any obvious sign that it was. You felt sure and didn’t puss out about that. And you were right. When there was trouble, you ran forward and took out two guys before the rest of us were even in cover. “
“You saved my ass, too,” Reed said. “I’m the one who was standing out of cover like an asshole.”
Ben put his hand on Reed’s shoulder. “First firefights ain’t easy. It’s all chaos until you get some experience under your belt. Your aim was true, and that’s not easy in the fire. You did okay, you learned some lessons, you’ll do better next time.”
Reed gave his father an ambivalent smirk. Yeah, nobody liked getting that experience. Well, a few liked it. Gunner, for one, always got a rush for the violence.
Cooper picked up again. “You did it all right, Zach. You’re smart, you’re tough, you’re a crack shot, your instincts are solid, and you’re not afraid to stand up for yourself. And, shit, you’re Rad’s boy. Yeah, you’re my sergeant, at my side.”
It was too much. SAA was real power, and real pressure. Responsible for keeping the whole club family safe, and for managing the darkest of their work. He was twenty-five years old, and never since he’d worn a kutte had he felt more like a kid than right now. It was too much.
But it feltgoodto have Cooper’s trust, and to look around this little table at the men who were now all his brothers and see them all nodding in agreement. He had their trust. Even Ben, who was looking at him like he’d really noticed him for the first time.
It was too much, and it scared the absolute piss out of him, but he wouldn’t balk. He’d stand up and be the man, the brother, the Bull these men saw in him. Their Sergeant at Arms. As his father had been.
He’d ridden a thousand miles away from his old man to get clear of those huge boot prints, and he’d somehow landed right in their heels.
He was his father’s son.
Legacy and destiny. Two sides of the same coin.
“Alright. I’m your sergeant.”
