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The kind of business wasn’t nearly as important as simply having one. First rule of being a professional outlaw: have somewhere legit to move the money through. Walter White had a car wash. The Tulsa Bulls had a service station. The Laughlin Bulls needed to figure out what their business would be. Apparently, it would not have anything to do with cars or bikes. That was a drag, sure, but Zach wasn’t sure how to fix it.
“Hey,” Cooper hissed like he had a secret. “Take a look at that.”
From behind the counter, where he’d been messing around with the ice-cream machine, Zach turned and looked in the direction Coop was indicating with a nod.
Reed and Patrick stood together near the front door. Patrick had his phone in his hand, and they were talking. Patrick seemed a little agitated. Probably complaining about the rednecks Reed was making him drag around town.
That was all Zach saw, so he turned to shrug at Cooper. Cooper’s body language shouted backyou’re really not seeing it? so Zach looked again and tried to see what was weird.
Reed and Patrick were standing really close to each other, almost the way Zach stood when he was at a loud bar, like the Dawghouse, flirting with a pretty girl.
Oh. Was that what Cooper saw?
Zach narrowed his attention, trying to decide if he was picking up a gay vibe from Reed. He hadn’t to this point. The guy was huge and fucking ripped, and the only vibe Zach had picked up from him to this point was badass. Not that gay men couldn’t be badass, or that Zach was an authority on any kind of ‘gay vibe.’ What the fuck did he know?
On the other hand, Patrick did project gay pretty strongly, from his perfectly tailored suit—on the tight side—and pointy leather shoes, to his perfectly styled hair and fingernails buffed to a sheen, to his slightly too strong cologne and the leather ‘murse’ hanging from his shoulder. Yeah, Zach would be surprised if Patrick wasn’t gay.
But that didn’t mean Reed was. They could just be—
Then Patrick put his hand on Reed’s face, cupped his cheek, in an extremely ‘there’s something physical between us’ way. Reed took it away, not like he was rejecting the touch but like he was aware of their audience. He wrapped his hand around Patrick’s wrist, held a beat, and then pulled it from his face.
“Holy fuck,” Cooper said under his breath.
Zach cast a glance around the restaurant and found Ben examining the industrial cabinets at the back of the kitchen area, apparently unaware of what was going on up front.
“Circle up,” Cooper said, and the Bulls clustered together beside a booth in the front corner. “You all saw the same thing I did, right? Haddon Junior’s playing for the other team.” He turned to Gargoyle. “You never said shit about it, Gargo. You’ve been buds with Ben for years, I thought. What the fuck?”
Gargoyle pulled on his beard for a second before he answered. “First, I didn’t know. Ben never said anything about it, and Reed and I don’t have heart-to-hearts or double dates. Second, does it matter?”
“I don’t see why it does,” Caleb answered.
Zach was sort of marveling that Lyra hadn’t said anything to him, but he also got it: it wasn’t hers to share. Same way Ben hadn’t told Gargo anything. Father and sister had Reed’s back. And Zach was relieved that his brothers, with the possible exception of Cooper, were being chill about it.
“Me either,” he agreed aloud. “It’s not the Fifties. Some people are gay. So what?”
“So I don’t want to see him packing fudge in the fucking clubhouse on party night!” Cooper came back, his voice rising with his emphasis.
“I don’t get off on public sex,” Reed said, from a few feet behind Zach. His voice was calm, conversational. When all the Bulls turned and faced him, he smiled. “Yeah. I’m gay.”
There was honed steel in that smile. Also, Zach noticed he wasn’t making a single excuse, not trying to temper the truth, not asking if it was okay he was who he was. He’d made a simple, clear assertion and nothing more.
The Bulls just stood there. If somebody with more pull than him didn’t say something very soon, Zach was going to have to, because this was awkward as fuck.
Then Ben came up and stood beside his son. “If you’ve got a problem with who my son is, say it now, and we’ll cut ties and be on our way.”
Reed shot a look at his father that was so full of affection and surprise Zach knew he’d been expecting this moment, and he hadn’t been at all sure his father would stand with him when it happened.
So Zach spoke up for the Bulls before Cooper could. “It’s not a problem. No reason it would be.”
“No reason at all,” Gargo concurred.
“Agreed,” said Caleb. “Club bylaws don’t mention orientation at all.”
Cooper, the only one who’d made any protest, sighed. “I don’t mean to be an asshole. I just ... wasn’t expecting that.”
“We good, then?” Ben asked.
Reed still had not said another word after using three to assert his orientation. He was not participating in the negotiations about his belonging. That was a pretty badass move, actually. JustI’m gay—deal with it or don’t, but work it out your damn selves.
