Broken

Chapter 3: First Date

It was a dark and quiet night, with the only sound being the ticking of Eddie's stopwatch as he sat in his bedroom. He was alone, except for his P226 handgun, a glass of bourbon, and a bottle of it. Eddie was doing what he always did, disassembling and assembling his gun.

As he assembled the gun back together, memories of his time serving in the NAVY SEALs flooded his mind. He remembered the days he fought alongside his friends, and one particular memory stood out, when he tried to save his fellow sergeant from getting killed, but the enemies were too much for him to handle.

Eddie and his fellow sergeants were running from the enemies. Some were covering them, and others got shot by the enemies.

"We're taking heavy fires. We need backup now!"

"Martinez, cover our six!"

"On it!"

"Volker, tango at 8 o'clock."

"Got it. 8 o'clock!"

"Keegan, come on!"

Heavily exhausted and almost running out of bullets, Keegan along with the other sergeants ran for their lives as the enemies approached and got closer. One by one Keegan's fellow comrades were shot down. Some were shot with a bullet, the others were blown by explosions, while the others got wounded.

Keegan and his last man kept on running on their toes until they were pinned down. The enemies surrounded them but Keegan still fought by firing all his bullets until there's none left. Finally outgunned, his last man was killed and Keegan was surrounded by the enemies. All of a sudden until there's an explosion from the other side, killing half of the enemies surrounding Keegan. A loud noise kept on booming in Eddie's ears as his vision became blank and he couldn't move a muscle, like he was frozen.

Eddie instinctively assembled his handgun and pointed it at the concrete wall in front of him, as if the enemies were on the wall. He suddenly put down the gun, sighing heavily and took a large gulp of the bourbon, feeling the liquid warmth spread through his body. Eddie continued his routine, disassembling and assembling the gun repeatedly until the clock struck midnight.

As he put down the gun and picked up his phone, he found himself staring at Sophia's number. He debated whether to call her or not, afraid of bothering her.

However, just as he was about to call her, the sound of a motorbike outside his house caught his attention. Curiosity piqued, Eddie stood up from his chair and went out of his room to investigate.

As he exited the house, he found an old man in his 70s, his outfit signifying that he's a biker, judging from the leather jacket and the jeans.

"Mr. Brooks? What are you doing here?" asked Eddie, approaching him.

Mr. Brooks, who happened to be Eddie's father's best friend, was riding a 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide Custom - a bike that belonged to Eddie's father. He was standing next to it with his hands inside his pockets.

Without saying a single word, Mr. Brooks just smiled as he took Eddie's hand and dropped the bike's key into Eddie's palm and closed it.

"He would be proud of you, son," Mr. Brooks said, patting him on the back. "This used to be his. But now it belongs to you."

Mr. Brooks just patted Eddie on the back again as he walked away, leaving Eddie alone.

Eddie then looked at the bike, touching it, letting his hand glide on the body parts of the bike. He couldn't resist the temptation and hopped on the bike. As he turned on the bike, the engine purred like a beast. At first he was a bit disturbed by the bike's noise, but he shrugged it off as he rode the bike away from the house, feeling the wind whip through his hair as he hit the highway.