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JACK’S POV

My son looked at me skeptically after I revealed I knew who had shot him. I could understand why he would doubt me but I was telling the truth. After my sister phoned me and told me what happened I knew I had to get to Miami quick.

“What do you mean you know who shot me? How do you know this?” Quen questions me.

“Uncle Jack, we haven’t heard from you in over a year and now you pop up all of a sudden when something like this happens? What’s really going on?”

I look to my nephew and I see the same skeptical look on his face. I had a feeling even if I told them my story they wouldn’t believe me unless I passed a freaking lie detector test or something.

I run my hand over my face and let out a sigh. “Kent let me talk to Quentin alone for a moment.”

I look to Quen and see him shaking his head no. “Whatever you have to say you can say in front of Kent. He’s family.”

I spot Kent moving out the corner of my eye. He gets up and heads for the door.

“It’s okay Quen; I’ll give you two a few minutes.”

I keep my eyes on my son as Kent leaves the room. When the door closes I pull a chair up close to the bed and sit down.

“So are you going to answer my question?” Quen asks as I interlock my fingers in my lap.

I nod. I start to tell him about an event that took place a few nights ago…

FLASHBACK

“How’s life been treating ya Jack?”

I was sitting in a dark and dirty bar swallowing away my troubles in the middle of the afternoon with my friend Jack Daniels. The bartender knew me as I was regular and always tried to make small talk but I wasn’t interested in chit-chatting.

I pushed my glass toward the middle aged man and he just chuckled as he refilled my glass with my choice of drink. He cleaned off the counter with a cloth he kept over his shoulder and moved on to other patrons.

I brought the glass up to my lips and downed the drink quickly. I was debating on if I wanted a fourth round or if I should call it a night as I heard a man a few seats away from me say my son’s name as he talked on his cell phone.

I wondered who he was and how he knew Quen. I moved over one seat to eavesdrop on him. I hadn’t seen my son in over a year and besides the tabs my sister kept on him I had no idea what was going on in his life. I missed him and prayed one day he would be open to reconciling.

The man begins talking and I can feel the tension in his voice. He was pissed drunk and adding anger to the mix was never a good thing.

“Sorry this isn’t Randy you dick wad. You fucked with the wrong person. Watch your back Mr. Fairchild or else you’ll be on it…in a coffin.”

Did this man just threaten my son? The man ends the call and slams his phone down on the counter. He yells for the bartender to get him another drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Just get me another fucking drink!”

The bartender yells back and I notice a pretty blonde moving closer to the man who was becoming irate. She sits next to the man which is only one seat away from me. She diffuses the ensuing argument and asks the bartender politely to get them both a drink.

When the bartender moves away to fix the concoctions she strikes up a conversation with the drunken man. I hear the man’s story and I am a bit shocked when the blonde tells the man she knows where my son will be this weekend and they make plans to take a road trip.

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