Chapter 1- The Mistake
He hadn't meant for this to happen. He had never set out to hurt anyone, but he had ended up hurting Pam, his beloved fiancée, his ray of sunshine, his precious girl and… He shook his head, not thinking about the body that was bent double in the boot. He remembered the struggle, thinking damn he's tall.
Had been.
Now no more.
Roy ran a hand through his head vigorously, gritting his teeth together so hard he thought he heard a crunch. That sound reminded him of the loud crack he'd heard only twice in his life, but each of those times had been deadly. He drove as fast as he dared. He couldn't afford to get pulled over, not now. His mind wandered back a few feet to the trunk and… He blinked furiously, trying to see something else in his mind's eye than blood.
It had been her mistake. She shouldn't have kissed someone else, not when she was engaged to him. She shouldn't have kissed him. Anyone but him.
Roy shook with rage anew, he had known from the start. All the glances and in-jokes and laughing and goddam smirks of that-
He breathed out sharply.
He should have stopped it. He shouldn't have let it go on. Maybe if he had…done, something.
But he stared sightlessly as his conscience didn't let him blame her or even... He stopped.
No matter how angry he had been, no matter how drunk or wounded, it had still been a mistake. A terrible, horrendous mistake he still couldn't bring himself to admit was truly his fault. If only the bugger hadn't tried to fight back, if only he hadn't claimed Roy unworthy of her, if only he hadn't pulled that last punch. If only…
No! It wasn't his fault, or hers. It was the smarmy bastard who'd been sniffing around every single second he'd been with her. He'd seduced his little Pammy with his stupid little jokes and fucking-
He pulled over, eyes welling up. Turning off the ignition he sat still until tears began to shake his shoulders. Then steadily growing harder, sobs wracked him. What had he done?
Why couldn't he have stopped? His fists had just keep on swinging, the furious blood in his veins surging through them, fuelling their rage.
Taking deeper breaths he pulled himself out of the growing pit that was him, and tried to think. What was he going to do?
He glanced through the windshield and then around all four corners, twisting uncomfortably in his seat, the belt cutting into his skin. He'd stopped in a layby on quiet road a good drive from where it'd had happened. Mind whirling now, he gulped down bile and breathed. He hadn't seen a single car since he had pulled over, there were no security cameras; no witnesses, no connection, no blame.
He had made sure that he hadn't been seen earlier, if he could stealthily dump the body and act normal until everything blew over then maybe, maybe he could be saved.
He took a deep breath, undid his seat belt, opened the door, got out, walked round, turned away for a second, turned back and then stood; shuddering as he steeled himself. He popped the trunk and slowly opened it inch by inch. He looked down, screwing his face up in disgust and shame. He looked down at the limp form. He looked down on the tarnish on his soul, his enemy, his biggest problem turned into his worst nightmare. His mistake.
It moved.