CHAPTER 2

Denver stood to his feet and was about to run, when a muffled voice yelled to him. He looks around and sees a man inside the car looking directly at him, reaching his hand out.

Denven, without a thought of hesitation, sprints to help the man.

People gathered around at the scene and the sound of sirens was nearing. Denven couldn't care less if the officers accused him, his mind was fixed on saving the poor man inside the car.

Swinging open the driver's car, he sees the man laying on his chest flat on the dashboard. His suit was bloody and a few cuts were bleeding out rapidly. Just then, a loud thump was heard and the engine at the front was smoking.

Everyone erupted in screaming and crying in panic. Denven, on the other hand, was fueled with determination. He took out the man's seatbelt and hung him on his shoulder easily.

Denven hurriedly ran to safety at the next corner and put the injured man on the ground. The police arrived in time and the car exploded immediately. Everyone watched in shock seeing a   man saving a  rich  man from an accident.

"Son of a bitch" the  rich  man utters out before he  s out.

Policeman pushed him aside and put the men on a wheeled bed. Denven sat by himself as he watched the ambulance drive away and some officers stayed to talk with witnesses.

The busy streets of Aurora were never new to Denven. He got used to it every day as he worked day and night at a local   owned coffee shop. He was about to clock out when his boss tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey bud, here have this" the big gruffy man says, handing him a bag that contained a suit and a plaster of freshly made bread.

"I heard news about your mom at the hospital, Dr. Peter really did Bella dirty..." His boss, Patrick, says, patting Denven on his shoulder.

"Don't let them assholes get to your head, man" he says warmly and encouragingly. Denven smiles sadly at him and says his thank you then left to go to the restroom.

Denven walks out from the cubicle looking sharp in a maroon suit and   shirt. He looked casual for job hunting, but it was more appropriate than any of the clothes he owned.

His fellow coworkers and Patrick cheered from the counter. He walks

out after waving his good, and he walks through the bustling streets of Aurora.

"Alright, Mom... Wish me luck" He straightens his suit jacket, backpack slung on his shoulder, and a determined look.

"We're sorry, but we can't hire you-"

"Our sincerest apologies-"

"We do appreciate you being here but-"

"Unfortunately, we can't accept you because-"

"Of who you are... " The 5th company HR coordinator says to Denven with a wary look.

"Ma'am, please-" Denven pleads, but the woman stops him before he could utter more words.

"I'm sorry, Denven. You don't have enough experience, and even as an entry level employee , your-" The woman cuts herself off, making Denven look confused and furious.

"Because of my race?" Denven asks, his tone shifts in annoyance.

"Look Mr. Marshalls, with no offense to you, but you aren't the type who's approachable" The lady comments, acting genuine and concerned.

"It's not about your race, but people can tell if someone's a crook or not" She says, Denven stood to his feet and glared at the woman.

"What? It's true, isn't it? " The woman kept going, but Denven kept his mouth shut.

"Your resume isn't real, and your license... In fact, maybe you're trying to get to this company to steal from the finance department! " The woman yells, Denven still stood there furious and watching her every move.

"You've got nothing to say, or is it hard for you to understand American?" The woman sneers, but Denven bite his bottom lip and only gives her a small smile.

"You don't know shit-" Denven says and pointing at the woman, "-you only see my clothes and it disgusts you that I exist" he grabs his backpack and walks towards the door.

Helpless and saddened, Denven arrives at his apartment and sees a letter addressed to him. In curiosity, he takes the letter and goes inside his flat to read what's inside.

"What the-" pulling out from the envelope was a few $100 dollars and a folded note. He unfolds it and sees something written inside with a calling card falling out.

It read:

"Hey Denven,

How are you? I've heard your mother has fallen ill and you are suffering financially. You may not know me, but I do. I have not paid you back my gratitude for saving my life.

As a token of my gratitude, I would like to offer you a job. I will pay off your mother's hospital bill as well as compensate extra for her medications. I can provide you the peace of mind you seek, Denven Marshalls.

I will be waiting.

- Mark A."

Denven scans his eyes on the card from the letter. He sighs to himself, frustrated about whether he should take the opportunity or not. If the job only offers minimal tasks under security, he wouldn't mind getting paid a couple of bucks for slacking off. He shakes his head and groans into his hands, then grabs his keys and the envelope with the note and card inside.

"Love makes us do smart things, Mama" whispering to himself, in front of the mirror before finally leaving.

Heading down to the parking lot where his motorcycle sat, he turns the ignition on to heat up the machine. Whilst waiting, he glances over again to the calling card in his hand. It had gold touches almost luxurious, with the words 'Salvacion Recreational Resort and Spa'. An address was written on the envelope, making it easier for him to look for this anonymous sender.

Driving off down the road, the sky roared and a quick flash of light welcomed rain to pour. Denven was determined to go through the rain, freezing and annoyed, curses under his breath. He hopes that whatever awaits at the resort better be good news.

As he corners in at the resort, he hops off his motorcycle and runs up to the entrance wet from head to toe. Before he could even enter, the guards stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Oi, who do you think you are, dirty boy?" A fat guard snarls chuckling with him was a bucktooth slender old woman.