Chapter 20
TAKING THE brAND
LORENZO
The mood around the bonfire is somber, serious. The branding iron is in the coals, glowing a bright, vivid orange-red.
We stand in a wide, uneven circle around the bonfire, which rages and flickers a good ten feet high—courtesy of Kane. Everyone is holding hands with the person on either side of them—only Scarlett stands alone, inside the circle, facing Sophia.
"Scarlett Gutierrez," Sophia starts.
Scarlett holds up a hand, and Sophia stops.
"I…" she sighs, and starts over. "I have considered this long and hard over the last few weeks.
" She looks hard at Sophia. “I’ve watched you.
You have chosen to leave your alter ego behind—we all call you Sophia, now, instead of Inez.
I…I think it's time for me to leave Scarlett Gutierrez behind, and this seems to be the best time, the best place, and the best way to do so.
When you brand me, I'm choosing to go by the name I was born with—Maria Consuela Rodriguez. "
Solomon looks on with pride, beaming at her. Grinning ear to ear, as a matter of fact.
"Maria Consuela Rodriguez, then," Sophia says, starting over.
"Today, you take the first step in a journey.
You are leaving behind all that came before.
We do not forget the past—we can't, and we should not, as you told me just a few minutes ago.
But the past must remain in the past. We cannot carry it with us everywhere.
We can't cling to it. Scarlett is your past. The Maria who was—she is your past, as well.
In taking this brand, you choose to put everything you used to be behind you and choose to belong to this very exclusive club.
We are your brothers. We are your sisters.
We are your mother. We are your father. You belong to us, and we belong to you.
The brand…" here, she wiggles her right hand into a thick, heat-resistant glove and pulls the iron out of the fire, "seals your membership into this family.
No matter where you go or what you do, you belong to us. It is irrevocable. Permanent."
Scarlett—Maria, I should say—peels out of her black T-shirt, standing before Sophia in a pair of black jeans and a dark green bra. "I am ready."
"Maria," Sophia says, holding Maria's left wrist with her arm turned out and extended so the inside of her bicep faces forward.
"Repeat after me: "In choosing this brand, I swear to never take another human life, and I swear my undying loyalty to my brothers and sisters in the Order of the Broken Arrows. "
Taking a deep, bracing breath, Maria repeats the oath in a slow, solemn tone. When she gets to the words "I swear my undying loyalty," Sophia gently, quickly, and firmly presses the orange-glowing brand to the inside of her bicep.
A hissing sound erupts from her skin, along with the unmistakable scent of scorched flesh. She screams through gritted teeth, head flung back, eyes squeezed shut. Removing the branding iron, Sophia shoves it back into the coals without letting go of Maria's wrist.
With a broad smile, she turns to Maria and pulls her into a hug, careful to avoid contact with the fresh brand. "Welcome to The Broken Arrows, Maria Rodriguez."
Cheers rise from the gathered circle, loudest of all from Solomon, who breaks from the circle to pull her into his arms. He hugs her tightly for a long time, while she, somewhat awkwardly, hugs him back one-armed, holding the other out and away.
Eventually, he lets her go. Takes a half step backward.
Shoves a hand into his pocket.
Drops to one knee in front of Maria, who claps her right hand over her mouth.
"Scar—Maria…" he grins, laughs, shakes his head.
"Gonna take me a second to get used to that.
" He kisses her knuckles and then starts over.
"Maria, I love you. I can't picture my life without you in it.
I've been thinking about doing this for a while now, and this seems to be the best moment.
" He holds up the ring he took from his pocket.
"This was my great-grandmother's. She and my great-grandfather were married for sixty-two years.
Before I left for Harvard, my mother gave it to me.
Told me that if I ever met someone I loved enough to marry, that I should give her this.
So, here it is. Maria, will you marry me? "
Nodding, she drops to her knees and cups his face, kisses him. "Yes, Solomon. A thousand times yes." She shows him her left hand, and he slides the ring on. "Holy shit, it fits?"
Solomon laughs. "I didn't think it would. I was assuming we'd have to get it sized."
The cheers erupt louder than ever, and everyone surrounds the couple, slapping Solomon's back, hugging Maria, congratulating both of them.
I meet Sophia's eyes from across the scrum—she looks happy, but perhaps a little wistful.
Until Solomon pops up from the center of the crowded huddle and reaches for her. "Get in here, you." He shoots me a look. "You too, Ren."
We close in, and the group condenses, pulling us into the chaotic huddle.
I'm the first to pull away. "So, it's my turn, now."
Sophia blinks at me in surprise. "You too?"
I nod, shrugging. "Of course. Did you think I would not? I may not choose to work within the club, but I do wish to take the brand."
Taking a deep breath and nodding on the exhale, she steps back to her place near the iron, close enough to the massive bonfire that the heat billows her loose hair.
The circle reforms with me on the inside with Sophia. She repeats the speech she gave to Maria, albeit a bit condensed and not precisely word for word. Her eyes are misty and her voice is shaky as she asks me to repeat the vow—which I do, loudly, clearly, proudly.
The pain when the iron hits my flesh is unbelievable—a deep, searing sensation so intense it almost feels like intense cold. I clench my molars so hard the ache in my jaw registers through the pain in my arm, and then the iron is gone and the pain subsides to a dull, throbbing burning ache.
Before the crew can surround me, Terra steps forward. "I'm next."
Sophia nods. "Very well."
Terra, being covered in a tapestry of tattoos, places hers in a blank spot on the back of her left shoulder. Unsurprisingly, from what little I know of her, she accepts the brand without any more fuss than Maria—a teeth-clenched, high-pitched snarl.
"I got next," Myka says.
Sophia blinks at her, then scans every face one by one. "Do you all intend to do this?"
Everyone nods. "Then I think you should induct each other. Terra, if you are agreeable, you will induct Myka, and Myka, you will induct the person after you."
And so it goes—the iron passing from Terra to Myka, Myka to Tatiana, Tatiana to Annika, Annika to Anjalee, and Anjalee to Naomi—who is the only one, male or female, to not make so much as a hiss when the brand hit her skin.
Taj, Toro, and Fonz stand apart, together, watching.
Sol glances at Sophia, at the three men, and then steps up to the fire and takes the iron from Anjalee—after putting on the glove.
"Soph, this ain’t right. These guys risked their lives for us.
For you. They shed blood takin’ our backs.
Jakob can talk to me if he's got issues with this, but I'm inducting them, and I ain't asking. "
Sophia's chin lifts, and her eyes sparkle. "I happen to agree, Solomon. Seeing the ceremony, seeing all of you—" she swallows hard, here, emotional, "choose this family, it seems clear that Toro, Taj, and Fonz belong to us as well."
Naomi touches Solomon's shoulder. "Please, may I? It would mean a lot to me."
Solomon shoves the iron into the fire, gives her the glove, and steps back. Glances at the trio of inductees. "Who's first?"
Fonz's hand shoots up so fast it’s a wonder he doesn't tweak a nerve.
"Me. I had to leave the LAPD for reasons I ain't ever shared.
I suppose you know, Sophia. For the rest of you…
" he ducks his head. "I've always been the class clown.
I always will be. But I…I do know that life ain't always jokes and fuckin' games and shit.
This ain't the time for a big origin story speech or what-the-fuck-ever, so the short version is that my best buddy on the squad was a guy named Gauge, spelled like the shotgun caliber. Big, beefy Black guy. Just a great, great dude. Solid. Steady as a rock. Loyal as a fuckin’ Pit Bull.
We went through the Academy together, made the force together, we were partners as rookies on patrol.
" He sighs, continues. "Our beat was a pretty dicey section of Compton. If you know, you know—an’ if you don't, I can't explain.
But I was a white cop in that neighborhood, and Gauge…
that man kept my ass alive and outta trouble.
Showed me…well, I ain't gonna preach about privilege.
Anyways. Gauge caught wind of corruption in our precinct.
Bad cops doing nasty shit. He reported it.
And he got murdered for it. Made it look like a drive-by.
But I knew it wasn't. I've got evidence it wasn't. And those dudes who did it, they know I’ve got evidence to put them all away for a long fuckin' time, and they want me dead for it.
There's a lot more to it, but that's the basic version. "
He's quiet a moment or two, thinking, gaze distant, remembering.
"Gauge was more than my friend, more than my partner.
He was family. I was…I got fuckin' lost when he got killed.
And you guys, workin' here…seein' the way you guys are with each other, hearin' bits of your stories, I…
I finally feel like I belong somewhere. In a way I never have, except with Gauge.
" He looks at us all in turn. "This is the honor of a lifetime, to be a part of somethin' like this.
" He jerks his chin up at Naomi. "Hit me with that shit, Nay-Nay. "