feral as a kid, and not much changed when I joined the military. The Marines said they saw potential in me, but what they really saw was a kid who had already experienced his fair share of violence and wasn’t one to shy away from doing the dirty work. They took a wild teenager and molded him into a ruthless killer.”
I paused when Presley let out a small gasp. Her eyes were big as she watched me carefully. I was pretty sure she didn’t realize we’d both stopped walking as I started telling her about my past.
“I’ve seen the worst the world has to offer, and I’m not only talking about war. Even now, one of the main reasons my branch of the club survives and funds itself without being involved in drugs and prostitution is because we go into the places in the world other people are afraid of. We provide protection. We bring the lost back home. We use the training the government gave most of us to keep alive people that others want dead.”
I lifted my eyebrows at her and shifted my weight off of my injured leg. It was starting to burn, but I was going to power through the pain as long as Presley wasn’t running away from me. I wasn’t used to being the one who did the chasing. It was far more common that I was the one running because the person trying to catch me wanted more than I was willing to give.
“Death isn’t something I’m afraid of. It’s been a constant in my life since before I fully understood the permanence of it. I don’t think you can live life fully and appreciate the important memories and moments unless you recognize everything we have and everyone we love will eventually be gone.”
When I was done talking, Presley vibrated with a whole-body shiver, as if she could easily imagine pulling back the sheet and seeing my lifeless body in her morgue. I figured it wasn’t a good move to tell her I was more likely to put someone else there than I was to end up on the slab. She already had enough reasons, many of them valid, for running away from me. I wasn’t about to give her another one. Almost as if she could sense the morbid and dark turn of my thoughts, she shook off the stillness and resumed her steady march toward her car.
I couldn’t tell if she was talking to me or herself when she stated, “Death has been a constant in my life as well. I think I respect it more than you do, though.”
“What do you mean?” I was seriously annoyed that my injured leg kept me a few steps behind her. I really was chasing after her in more ways than one. I was also irritated at how casually she dismissed my complicated relationship with life and death. I profoundly respected the power of both love and loss in someone’s life. I didn’t know much about love, but I was pretty much an expert when it came to all the different kinds of loss a person could go through. I kept my emotions in check because it was expected of me as the leader of my club. But I wasn’t a heartless monster, even if being one, the way my father had wanted, would make my life and my lifestyle easier.
“My mother was sick my whole childhood. I never knew how long I was going to have with her. There were as many bad days as good. I lived every single day knowing her death was inevitable. I tried not to be scared, since I knew it was coming and there was no stopping it. No matter how rich you are, how well you lived, what kind of deal you made with the devil, death is one thing all humans have in common. It’s one thing that ties us all together.”
We were almost to her car, so her pace slowed a little and she turned her head so I could see her profile. I felt like I’d learned more about her in these last five minutes than in any of our other encounters. I wanted to believe she was getting more comfortable around me, but that could just be wishful thinking. Selfishly wanting a few more moments with her, I asked, “Is that why you became a medical examiner? To prove to yourself that you weren’t afraid?”
She nodded as I moved closer. “Partly. I