“That’s funny. For some reason I always think of joining the military as giving up your life. I don’t know why, but it seems like a big sacrifice to make.”
“It can be. But for someone like me, who had no guidance or direction. I would have died without the swift kick in the butt the military provided.”
“So you were a lost kid? Like the ones at the shelter or did you still live at home?”
Malcolm had a depth to him that only comes with great loss. I recognized it in him from the moment I saw him. Life had been cruel to this man and it was written in his expression. But his pain showed up in a positive way, too. In how he appreciated Skylar, in how he protected those he loved.
“That was me. Before I signed up for the navy, I was lost in a lot of anger and pain. Going nowhere good. Taking my aggression out in incredibly destructive ways. They taught me discipline. Gave me a purpose, life goals. It was a full transformation.”
“How did your family feel about you joining the service?”
Malcolm winced at my question. His eyes roamed to the sky above and I knew they were gone, I sensed it in his reaction. This was it, the moment when I’d learn what made Malcolm Miller who he was. I hoped I could handle it, console him in the right way. I was used to dealing with trauma, but it was new to me, this being in love.
“What happened to your family? Are you okay to talk about it?” I placed my hand on his giant paw and looked at him with eyes full of encouragement.
“Nope,” he said. “But I will for you, Claire. Needs to be said.” He was shaking his head. He placed his other hand on mine and smiled, but his eyes were turning red. “My family was long gone by then.”
“Gone? Like disappeared?”
Malcolm glanced down, his eyes focusing on our hands and fingers as he massaged my palm.
“My parents and older sister died when I was a kid, in a burglary gone wrong. I witnessed it all. Hid under the bed.” His voice cracked as he said it, the pain seemed fresh and like it could still consume him.
“Oh, Malcolm, that’s horrible. What a tragedy to go through, what a pain to carry.” I threw my arms around his neck.
“Some people broke into our house in the middle of the night. They shot my mom in the chest and my dad in the head while they slept in their bed.”
I gasped as he spoke, my hand going to my mouth, absolutely horrified. I tried to hold my tears at bay as I listened, but they came anyway.
“Then, they took my sister, Ava, held her down, and took turns violating her. I hid under the bed like a coward.”
“You were a child!” I defended him.
“I was seven years old,” he said. Malcolm pulled away from me and tried to turn his head. I held on and turned his face back to meet mine.
“They would have killed you, too. You were just a baby. Would you ever call a seven year old boy a coward?”
“Probably not.”
“Then don’t tell yourself that!” I peppered his face with tiny kisses and brushed away the one big tear that sat on his cheek.
“You know what they stole? Some of my mother’s jewelry. They took my whole life from me for some shitty costume jewelry that was probably worth a couple hundred bucks.”
“What happened to them? Did they catch the perpetrators?”
“One is in jail serving 25 to life, and the other died of a heroin overdose before he could be prosecuted. That’s why I joined the MC. Why I joined the navy, why I became a prosecutor. Everything I’ve ever done was in reaction to that day.
I understood so much now. It was also why he loved Skylar so much, why, come hell or high water, Malcolm would see to her well-being. He’d dedicated his whole life to helping children and prosecuting criminals. We’re all products of our experience and Malcolm was no different. His wounds made him even more beautiful to me.
“The military helped me get independence, but the MC helped me get real justice. I think, too, it’s the camaraderie that calls to me. All the guys served. We’ve all been through a hell of a lot. It’s a brotherhood, a family—something I haven’t had since that night under the bed.”
“Malcolm,” I whispered. “You are such a brave man.” My heart ached in a million ways for him. I didn’t know how long we had sat in silence just holding on to each other’s hands or how many tears I shed listening to his story, but I knew one thing for certain. I could never leave this man.