Photo by p2722754 edited with Canva
I did not commit suicide. I was silenced
Grandfather's words written in his leather-bound diary echoed in my head as I reached for a small handgun I had tucked under the kitchen sink.
His motto was always to be ready. So he placed guns at crucial points in the house and taught his children how to use them.
Another bullet flew through the broken window and pierced the box on the counter.
I took off the safety from my handgun and peeked above the counter a little.
Whoever shot at me had gone or was reloading.
The aim was clear —to scare me from discovering the contents of the box.
I quickly pulled the box down from the counter when a loud banging on the front door made my heart lurch. The force was enough to take the door off its hinges.
WTF!
Was the shooter outside and ready to break in? I debated whether to pick up the box and jump out the window. I was on the first floor. Maybe I'd sustain an ankle sprain but I would be fine and safe.
I picked up the box and almost ran to the window when I heard a familiar male voice.
"Alex! Open up!"
What was Adam Enfield, my boss and friend at Chris Fries, doing at my house?
I ducked back behind the kitchen counter and gripped my handgun tight. "Enfield, what are you doing here?" I bellowed.
"Alex! Quick, no time for questions now. They are coming. Open this door."
"Who? What are you talking about?"
"Alex? It's about your grandfather. Now open up."
I was at the door in a flash with my gun behind my back and opened it a little. It was the cheeky, handsome bastard alright. I eyed him. "What do you know about my grandfather?" I whispered.
He was sweaty like he'd been running. He raised a similar leather-bound diary for me to see. My eyes bulged.
"I don't know anything, Alex," he said. "I just got this from my lawyer. What I do know is the same people after your father's secrets are after me. They are most likely on their way here! We must live now."
I noticed that his diary had an embossed logo of a bald eagle on the cover. Same symbol on my pen knife.
From all indications, Adam and I were connected somehow and I must find out how. I unlocked the chain and let him into the house.
Adam looked around for a second and spotted the box on the counter. "That's yours?"
I was going to respond when we heard cars and tires screeching outside.
"Quick. Back door," he said.
I grabbed my box under my arm, tucked the gun in my waistband, grabbed my phone and ran after Adam who was already out the door.
Within a few hours of receiving some items formerly belonging to my grandfather, my life had changed.
I woke up on my cosy bed happy this morning… and now I was on the run for my life.
But I was not alone.
Grandfather, what did you do?
To be continued….
