Chapter 1- The Native

Chapter 1 - Confrontation

Elliot could hardly move his arm at all without wanting to scream when he woke up that morning. he had laid on his bed, not getting up for hours. his arm was throbbing with the worst pain he’d had since he’d been shot back when he was a rookie cop.
    He finally managed to sit up, groaning to himself as he did so. the morning light that had leaked into his room several hours before made his eyes hurt to look at. he looked away rubbing his forehead. Stumbling up a bit, he worked his way over to the full length mirror at the other end of the room.
    there was a new scar, fresh and still red and a bit bloodied near his shoulder, a bit below his collarbone on his left side. the flesh around the area was burned and seared, the result of closing a wound with an iron, rather than go to a hospital.
    He managed to take a short shower, but couldn’t wash all that well with his left arm being hurt as it was. a half hour later, he was out making himself some coffee futilely. he looked over his counter space. Half rotten vegetables, half eaten leftovers in pizza boxes, take out containers, Tupperware, milk cartons and juice even his beer was all out on the counter going bad over night.
    He’d spent the last two days, having called in sick to work, knowing he’d not be able to function, and wanting to make sure he could deal with things that needed to be dealt with. the last few days had gone from horrifyingly bizarre to just plain out there rather quickly. he might be going back to work.. but knew the whole thing was far from over.
    Elliot stood staring at the refrigerator for a minute, holding his empty mug.

♞

There was a sickness growing in his stomach. His hand rested on his left knee. his right knee was shaking slightly. he was nodding, pretending to be listening, but in reality, he was just waiting in his mind for the man to implicate him.
    For the last seven years straight, he had been working for the Armansky family. Family was a loose term they used to describe those that participated in the “family” business. In reality it was just another criminal organization. but not one to be shrugged off.
    For the last few years he’d been pretty much running the loan sharking arm of the family, dealing out the loans, and charging insanely high interest.. and demanding, in most cases, more than most could even pay back.
    It was by no means a clean business, but until two months ago, it had been sanctioned by the police. he’d been allowed to get away with all but murder essentially, so long as he continued giving them all the dirt on the “capos” and under-bosses. No one suspected him of being a detective.
    At least that had been what he’d thought.
    He was sat watching the other man from the corner of his eye as he pretended to be watching the small TV in the kitchen of Lucas’ apartment. he never really looked away from any of these people, never really trusting that they wouldn’t back stab him at any moment. after all, if he was them, he’d do it. especially with the reputation for being ruthless that he’d built up in the last few years.
    Lucas turned back to him, handing him a beer from the fridge. it was colder than he expected, and still had the cool smoke drifting out of it as he took his first drink.
    “ You actually watch this s**t?”  He asked, looking to the tv, it was just some world news program, narrating about something happening in some third world country.
    “ Course. I like to keep up with current events.”
    Lucas laughed lightly, apparently not believing him all that much.
    “You do not even know what day it is half the time.”
    “Whatever.. I’m more interested in what you asked me to come here about. what did you want to talk about? “ He hesitated a moment before continuing, taking another drink before he spoke again.
    “You made it sound like life or death.”
    Lucas sat down across from him, turning the tv volume down. He took a deep breath, looking for the words to start with.
    “ My uncle trusts you, more than his own family..” he nodded.
    “ I feel I can trust you too.”
    This was already going places that made Elliot uncomfortable.
    “ Out with it already. you’re scaring me man. what’s this about?” he took a nervous gulp of beer.
    “ well.. I was talking to that little s**t Jay the other day.. and he was saying, he could swear he saw one of my uncles guys up at the station.”
    A lump had formed in his throat. he had to put the beer down, he couldn’t drink any more. he remained calm on the outside though, completely smooth.
    “ talking to the cops? who did he say it was? “ His hand unconsciously moved further down his hip, pretending to put his hand in his pocket casually.. but really just putting his hand that much closer to the gun tucked into the back of his jeans.
    “I dunno.. but I don’t like it. he said he’d seen the guy around, but didn’t know the name. he said he was gonna look into it for me..”
    “ You trust this guy.. what’s his name-?”
    “ Jay Rowland.”
    A name.. he smiled unconsciously, almost laughing nervously at how easy that was.
    “ you trust this Jay? I never met him. “
    “ Well not really, but it’s worth a look right? I mean we might have a snitch.”
    That was all the reassurance he needed. Elliot stood up a bit, nodding thoughtfully, pretending to think about it.
    “ I suppose you’re right.. we can’t have that..” walking around him he sighed. he stared at the back of Lucas’ head for a moment his hand reaching silently under his coat, gripping the handle of the pistol in his belt, drawing it silently, not wanting to screw this up...
    He cocked the pistol walking back around to face him now.. he knew the man wouldn’t react knowing any movement now could get him shot.
    Lucas just stared at him in shock and disbelief.

“ what.. what are you doing?”

“Protecting an investment.” he took a deep breath biting his lip. he’d known this man for seven years. considered him as much of a friend as he felt a man like himself could be allowed to enjoy.
    “invest.. what are you talking about.. put the gun down Terry..”

The look of fear and desperation crossing Lucas’ face almost made him put down the gun. he had no qualms about bumping off people who got in his way.. but this was more than just some nobody street thug. this was his ‘friend’.

“ If I let you go.. what would you do?”  he asked, having to adjust his grip several times, his hands sweating terribly. he ran a hand through his scraggly dark hair.

“ You’d go right to Armansky.. you’d tell him the moment you knew who the snitch was.” he sighed. he was suffering a momentary lapse of judgment when he lowered the pistol just a bit, relaxing. he should have known better than to lower his guard so much.

He hadn’t seen it coming, and would later make a note to himself, to check the surroundings next time before pulling a gun on a man he’d seen kill people twice Elliot’s size with his bare hands. but it wasn’t his hands that attacked Elliot. He looked down for a moment shooting without looking. he’d been stabbed in the shoulder, going down a bit as he missed Lucas.. who was now trying to bolt for the front door. he slumped to the floor a bit, his heart  felt like it stopped for a moment as he held his breath, aiming in what felt like the longest few seconds of his life, firing one more bullet.

♞

    He opened the refrigerator for a moment still holding the mug. he held his breath a moment,  half wondering if the last three days had just been some really screwed up dream. the contents of his fridge left him a bit disappointed at the realization that it wasn’t.
    Turning about he put the mug back down on the counter. he hated black coffee and since the use of his fridge had been swapped out, his creamer had gone bad.. he supposed he’d get coffee on the way to the station...

Author's Note

Fully aware it lacks a proper description of the characters appearances, will get to that in the next chapter or so i believe. it isn't about what they look like, it's about how he feels, where he is, what he's done, what's going through his head.
Let me know what you think.