#now please someone tell me again about the hearteyes he makes at David all the time

[procrastiel]

26:36 mins: “I can only act what I am. Oscar Wilde said: ‘Give a man a mask and he’ll show you his true face.’ And I’ve always thought that’s very true, that, you know, by playing characters, so to speak, I, really, I reveal myself. I can put so much more of myself into something if it’s ‘a character’ than when it’s me, you know.”

[goddessofthundathighs]

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Chapter 2

Ringing. The only sound Derek could make out was the constant ringing in his ears. His chest hurt and something was leaking from his forehead. Blood? Why was his forehead bleeding?

“David? David are you alright?” he finally managed to ask. Silence.

“David?” he tried again. Still nothing. He willed himself to turn his head only to discover a gaping hole in his windshield and his son not in the passenger seat beside him. Derek couldn’t wrap his mind around what had just happened. Suddenly there was a knock on his window.

“Everything’s going to be alright, sir. You’ve been involved in a hit and run accident. Are you alright?”

“My head,” Derek mumbled.

“Alright. I’m going to open the door and get you out.”

“David. Where’s David? Where’s my son?” The paramedic’s face paled as he helped Derek from the wrecked BMW.

“Let’s get you checked out first sir, then we’ll talk about David.” Derek allowed the paramedic to lead him to the ambulance and take him to the hospital. He faded in and out of consciousness several times before finally passing out. He awoke several hours later, bruised and bandaged and in excruciating pain from the neck down.

“Mr. Jenkins?” the doctor asked cautiously when she noticed that he had come to.

“Where am I?” he asked, clearly still dazed from the morphine.

“You’re at the hospital. You were involved in a hit and run accident.”

“Where’s my son? Where’s David?” The doctor sighed softly before delivering the heartbreaking news.

“David didn’t survive the crash, Mr. Jenkins. He was ejected from the vehicle.” The remainder of the doctor’s words faded as Derek processed what he had just been told. His son, the only piece of his family that he had left had been taken from him in a car accident. The tears streamed down his face and his screams could be heard several rooms away. It had only been 4 years since he lost his wife and now he had lost his son.

“There are some officers here that would like to speak with you about what you remember,” the doctor said. “I’ll let them know that you’re awake.” With that, she turned on her heels to alert the awaiting officers. They came in about five minutes later, their faces solemn and regretful.

“Alderman Jenkins, I’m sorry for your loss,” the taller gentleman said. “My name is Detective Elliot Fitzgerald and this is my partner Antonio Ramirez. Can you tell us what you remember from the accident?” Derek sat up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in his neck.

“All I remember is leaving the baseball game with David. We were on the way to go get dinner and ice cream since his team won. We were stopped at a red light and when it was our turn to go, this car just came out of nowhere and hit us dead on. Everything goes blank after that.”

“Do you remember what kind of car it was?” Ramirez asked, writing important details in his notebook.

“It was black, a Mercedes I think.”

“Were you able to get a glimpse of the driver?”

“No, everything happened so fast.”

“Thank you, Alderman. We’ll pull the traffic cameras from that intersection and see what we can find. Thank you for your cooperation and I apologize again for your loss.” With that, the gentlemen left, once again leaving Derek with his thoughts.

“I failed you, Tameka. I promised you that I would take care of him and I failed. Please forgive me,” he sobbed.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you can do, doctor?” Tameka Jenkins asked when it was just the two of them in the room.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jenkins. The cancer has spread to almost 90% of your body. Even with chemotherapy, there’s still a 99.9% chance of it coming right back. I’m sorry.”

“About how long do you think I have left?”

“If I’m being honest, you may not make it to Christmas.” Her soft sniffles could be heard from outside of the door and Derek’s heart was crushed. They’d loved each other since they were freshmen in high school and hadn’t been away from each other for more than a few hours in 16 years. How would he function without her? His son needed a mother and he most certainly needed his wife. It was too soon. God couldn’t be taking his angel this soon.

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The bell to the cafe chimed, signaling another patron had entered the tiny space. Pastries of all kinds lined the display shelves, inviting guests to sample their sweetness. Derek Jenkins sat in a booth in the back of the restaurant, a black fedora covering his low cut fade. Smoke rose from the cup of french vanilla coffee as he clicked away on his Macbook, passing the time until his breakfast guest arrived. He’d been reluctant to take her up on her offer, seeing as how she had been trying to include herself in his activities for the last few months. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive, she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but looking at other women felt like he was betraying Tameka. Though it had been four years since her death, he still couldn’t bear the thought of loving another woman the way he loved her.

I’m surprised you called,” a feminine voice called, pulling him away from his campaign plan.

“I thought about what you said the other night and you’re right, it is time that I let someone in,” he stated before taking a tentative sip from the mug. Margo smiled a soft smile before taking her seat across from him. The pair talked for a few hours, bonding over their sons’ shared interest in baseball and their experiences as single parents.

“So have you heard anything from Moore?” Margo asked as she sipped her white hot chocolate.

“He called me last night, said he’d gotten a lead in the case. We’re supposed to be meeting later on to go over the details.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little, but I need closure. It’s been a year and I still don’t have the slightest clue as to who could have done it or why. I just want to know who the coward was that killed my son.” Margo reached out a hand, carefully stroking his knuckles to bring him back to the present. This was one of the reasons he didn’t like talking about David or his death. Each time the memory surfaced, he became angry. The same anger he felt when the two detectives told him that David didn’t survive the crash. His phone rang, pulling him from his wayward thoughts.

“I’m here, where are you?” he says into the receiver.

“My office, 15 minutes,” Detective Moore says before ending the call. His tone was much more gruff and aggressive than usual, which worried Derek.

“He wants me to meet him at his office, care to tag along?”

“Sure,” Margo answers, pouring her remaining cocoa into a togo cup. The pair made the short drive to Detective Moore’s downtown office and anxious to hear what he man had to say.

“After careful examination of the traffic cam footage from the night of the wreck, I finally have the identity of the driver that hit you and left.” Derek watched with wide eyes as Moore enhanced the video footage.

“Is that Senator O’Bannon?”

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