Page 69 of Fracture

I throw my car into reverse and tear down the drive, tires screeching as I speed along Stella’s street in the direction of the garage. I catch sight of my eyes in the rear view mirror.

They’re going to wish you stayed locked up.

Eric sidles into the office, dressed in a loose purple t-shirt and yellow shorts, the picture of a family father who’s just been torn away from breakfast. He lifts his head in greeting when he spots me behind the desk, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Hey boss.”

“Hey.” I gesture to the chair opposite. “Sorry to call you in so early on a Saturday morning.”

He shrugs as he sits down. “No problem.”

“I promise this won’t take long.” I point to the bottle of water and two glasses on my desk, and he shakes his head. “But I do need to discuss something pretty important with you.”

“Sure.” He watches me expectantly.

“Mario tells me you’ve worked for him for a long time.”

“Yes sir, 15 years, since I left the service.”

I nod, pouring myself a glass of water. “He mentioned you were a veteran. Purple Heart and everything?”

Eric’s chest puffs a little. “That’s right.”

“He assures me you’re a good man.” I roll the glass back and forth in my hand. “I hope my past doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. I know you did what you had to do to protect your buddy. I understand that.”

“I’m sure you do, probably better than most.” I take a sip of the water, wishing it was something stronger. “You know I’m on parole, right?”

He gives a curt nod. “Of course.”

“And I’m sure you know that comes with limitations.”

His brow furrows for just a split second before he gives that military nod again. “Sure.”

I rub my chin, hoping I’ve judged Eric accurately and I’m not about to make a big mistake. “Among other things, I’m not allowed to own a firearm.”

Eric doesn’t nod, just regards me with a deepening frown. “I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

I lean on the desk, taking a deep breath before I look him square in the eye. “I need you to get me a gun.”

Eric’s eyebrows shoot up as he grunts out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“I need a gun. Something small, easily concealed.”

Eric shakes his head, pursing his lips to exhale heavily, rubbing his hands along his thighs. “Sorry, I mean, I’m all for helping a fella out, but, I’m sure you understand that if I get you a gun, I’m committing a felony.”

“I know that.” I take another sip of the water. “I have something I need to tell you, and I’m going to hope I can trust you with this information.”

He sighs heavily, but when my eyes flash to his face he sees something that makes his shoulders go straight, and that quick nod is back. “Of course.”

“You said you understood why I did what I did, when I killed my stepfather.” I put the glass down, leaning on my elbows and rubbing my hands together. “But the actual story of what happened was never released.”

Eric narrows his eyes, shaking his head as he blinks at me. “The actual story? You mean, like a cover-up?”

“Something like that.” I rub a hand across my forehead. “I need you to understand this isn’t my story to tell, and I can’t betray this person’s trust. But I understand you’re a father?”

“Yes, sir. Two girls. Eldest just started college.” The pride in his face at this little statement puts any doubt I had to rest.

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