Incriminate Me

5:Don't be a fool Ele

"May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears," -Nelson Mandela 

It's been a week. 

A week of checking if Davis is still breathing and waiting for the day he isn't.

7 days of coming home with the bubbling fear and the shaking of my hands. 

168 hours of acting like everything is completely fucking normal when I feel like I am going mental.

Sometimes I think there is a car following me. There is this itch that there are eyes on me.

I can't focus at the Colleagues Drink Night. Ann is giggling with Richard, a college intern.

The bar/restaurant is one of the nicer ones, but my cocktail is bland in my mouth. I am bored with idle hands and a reeling mind.

I want to be out doing something.

I want to research the license plate on the car in the video. To find out which police officer had been paid off. To interview Davis.

I check daily to see if Andrews and him are still alive, the smart thing to do would be to pick them both off. But I bet with the heat I provided with the FBI they will wait a few more weeks before they make the kills. 

He didn't promise me he would keep Andrew alive. He simply said Davis would be on me. Or maybe he did promise. 

Stop, only a fool would think he would let him live. 

The seat shifts beside me and I glance up to come face to face with John Kennecky. He orders a bourbon on the rocks.

He takes a long sip, staring out at the view as he speaks,

"How have you been doing Ms. Canegallo?"

I turn to face him,

"It's been a quiet week. Which is nice."

There is a glint in his eyes that tells me that he knows what I mean by that,

"We never had a follow up conversation after you confronted me."

I keep my face neutral,

"Here I am Mr. Kennecky, what do you want to say?"

He looks down at his drink,

"Do you still need the Davis Case to be explained to you?"

I wonder if this is a threat. I tilt my head to the side and observe him for a moment,

"If you are offering, sure thing."

There is an anger in his eyes,

"Ms. Canegallo- let me offer you a piece of advice."

I stare down at my cocktail, he continues,

"Do yourself a favor and stop asking so many questions."

I snort, eyes flashing to his,

"Everyone is really good at giving a young woman advice. But they are never very good at taking theirs are they?"

I lean back in my seat, jutting out my chin,

"What are you doing with someone like that Mr. Kennecky?"

His eyes narrow, accentuating the crinkles around them. His voice is tight,

"How many times do you need to be warned to understand that this is far bigger than you can comprehend?"

I cock my head and feel the heat of adrenaline, my boredom slipping away, replaced by that heating buzz,

"I think at least a few more times."