Dustin laughed.
“Come on, Ray.”
“I said back up.”
Something in his voice made them listen.
The man blocking the door stepped aside.
One of Dustin’s friends lowered his hands.
Dustin’s smile vanished.
“You’re serious?”
Ray rubbed his jaw.
“I was stationed at Camp Lejeune for a while. Different unit. Everybody heard about Carter.”
I sighed.
That was exactly the kind of reputation I had spent twenty years trying to leave behind.
Not because I was ashamed of serving.
I was proud of that.
But there were stories that grew larger every time they were retold. A training incident became a fight. A fight became ten men. Ten men became an entire bar.
Men enjoyed legends because legends were simpler than people.
The truth was less impressive.
I had been good at teaching frightened young Marines how to stay calm when someone stronger, faster, or more aggressive came at them.
