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“No,” I croaked, absently reaching up to touch my face. The ridges of the scars seemed to help
focus me. “Not a single thing.”
She looked like she deflated, as if some hope she’d been secretly holding onto had faded.
“What do you want to be called then?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
And I didn’t.
“Your middle name?” she suggested. “Does that sound better?”
I thought about that.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Being called Gabriel will be weird.”
She flinched.
Frankie didn’t contradict that statement because she knew I was right.
Gabriel was Luca’s name.
I’d never gone by Gabriel, at least not according to all the people that knew me.
I was either Malachi or Stokes.
My full name, Malachi Gabriel Stokes, didn’t seem right to me.
Then again, nothing really did these days.
“How about Riel?” she asked, pronouncing ‘ree-ell’ slowly. “Not Malachi. Not fully Gabriel.”
I found that I liked that one, especially since she’d been the one to call me it.
“I… that’ll work.” I shifted and felt pain ripple up my side.
She took in my expression, then let her face drift down to my left side.
“Did you just get off shift?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Did you enjoy it?” she wondered.
I shrugged. “It’s a job.”
Her mouth twitched.
“I asked Luca once what he wanted to do after he got out of the Navy,” she whispered. “And he
told me that when he got out, he’d probably work with his dad. When I suggested being a police
officer, he told me that it sounded boring.”
I found myself smiling.
“That’s funny,” I admitted. “And the job isn’t boring per se. More too structured, if that makes any sense. But, riding around on a motorcycle all day is kind of fun. I wished that I didn’t have to be wearing the uniform I’m wearing, though.”
