《Guilty》


 Prologue & Chapter 1

    PROLOGUE


    The night is suffocating. Derrick¡¯s palms are slick with sweat as he grips the steering wheel tighter, the humming of the engine drowning out the thoughts swirling in his head. He should¡¯ve known this day would come. He¡¯s been running from his past for years¡ªpushing it deep, burying it under layers of control, and using every trick to keep it hidden. But now, as the investigation into Luna¡¯s death inches closer to him, the walls are closing in. He glances at the dark road ahead, but all he can see are flashes of faces¡ªher face¡ªfrom so many years ago. A flash of bright eyes, terrified eyes, staring up at him as he violated everything she was. His stomach churns. He had to pull over; his thoughts were now intruding more intently, making it difficult to think, see, breathe.


    BACK THEN¡­


    ¡°Dad, what¡¯s happening? Why are we at her house?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about this, Derrick. It¡¯s all being handled.¡±


    ¡°But---but she¡¯s saying things¡­is she telling the cops?¡± Derrick¡¯s face becomes flushed. ¡°Dad, I didn¡¯t mean to, I swear.¡±


    ¡°I know, son. I know. You will be fine. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here---to straighten it all out.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna go to jail, Dad!¡±


    ¡°You will not go to jail, Derrick. But if you don¡¯t listen, that could change¡­do you understand?¡± Bruce looks over to Derrick, waiting for him to nod that he comprehended the depth of his request. He continued when Derrick shook his head obediently. ¡°Good. These next steps are going to be a challenge. I need you to do everything I instruct¡­everything.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Dad.¡±


    NOW¡­


    No one ever questioned him. Not when it happened, not when his father stepped in to bury it all. Not when he moved on, carefully carving out a life where he would never be found. But Luna¡¯s death has changed all of that. The investigation, the questions¡ªit¡¯s all starting to piece together, and he can feel it. The weight of his past is heavy on his chest.


    He can¡¯t let them find out. He can¡¯t let them make the connection. Not now. Not when everything is about to fall apart.


    His phone buzzes on the seat next to him¡ªLuna¡¯s name blinking on the screen. He freezes.


    No. This is--this can''t be happening. Luna is dead. How could she be calling me?


    His hand trembles with ferocity.


    He shoves the phone into the glove compartment, his heart hammering.


    Was he losing his mind now? On top of everything else?


    He takes a deep breath, returning to the issue at hand: his potential loss of freedom, the possible loss of his entire life.


    He has to stop this. He has to stop them from finding out. But how?


    There was no denying the evidence they had against him. There''s no denying DNA.


    A sharp knock on the window snaps him from his thoughts.


    He squints through the window before rolling it down. He quickly holds his breath when he realizes who it is.


    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Butker. Everything alright here?¡±


    Derrick¡¯s throat tightens. He forces a weak chuckle, but it sounds unnatural¡ªtoo forced.


    ¡°Detective Stone. What a surprise.¡±


    She cocks her head, unimpressed. ¡°Oh, is it?¡±


    There was an awkward silence for a beat. Derrick swallows hard, wiping his palms on his jeans.


    ¡°I¡ªyeah. Just needed a minute. Long day.¡± He exhales sharply, trying to steady himself. ¡°Just clearing my head.¡±


    She lifts her flashlight, aiming it into the back seat. The beam sweeps over the clutter¡ªand then lands on the bags. Her expression doesn¡¯t change, but her grip on the flashlight tightens.


    ¡°You traveling somewhere, Mr. Butker?¡±


    Derrick''s throat tightens more. ¡°I was on my way to my girlfriend¡¯s to spend a few nights. That''s not a crime, is it?¡±


    Stone ignores the jab. ¡°Funny. You--or anyone else I''ve interviewed-- never mentioned a girlfriend before today. Why is that Derrick?¡± Detective Stone leans in closer, resting her elbows on the window. She positions herself face-to-face with Derrick.


    ¡°Wanna hear another knee slapper?¡±


    Derrick shifts uncomfortably. ¡°Uh, what''s that, Detective?¡±


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    ¡°Your name always seems to uh pop up in conversations these days...funny. Right?¡±


    Derrick echoes her laugh sarcastically. ¡°Ha ha. Hilarious.¡±


    Detective Stone narrows her eyes at Derrick and then slowly steps back. She lets the silence hang before lightly tapping the car roof, ¡°You drive safe, Mr. Butker. I hear there''s a psychopath on the loose...¡±


    Derrick chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he watches her walk away.


    Then, the second she¡¯s out of sight, his face drops. His chest tightens. Then, his anger arises. ¡°What a Bitch!¡±


    He reaches for the glove compartment¡ªand hesitates. Luna¡¯s name still blinks on his phone screen. His stomach twists. He slams it shut.


    ¡°Drive. Just drive!¡±


    I.THE VOICE


    Thomas was in his bedroom pleasing himself while watching ¡°X-Factor.¡± Kelly Rowland always aroused him. She was beautiful, charismatic, and exceptionally talented. She was his favorite of the group, ¡°Destiny''s Child.¡±


    Suddenly, he heard a loud crash that appeared to have come from the living room. He jumped up to investigate the noise and was forcefully greeted by a .44 magnum to the front of his skull.


    ¡°Listen, Thomas. You move, you''re dead. You speak, you¡¯re dead. You breathe, you¡¯re dead. Shake your head if you understand the words I speak.¡± The Voice commanded.


    Thomas shook his head as directed.


    ¡°Why don''t you put some pants on, you sick bastard.¡± The Voice said in a disgusted tone.


    Thomas obliged but did so with a confused look on his face. He didn''t think anything was wrong with a man pleasuring himself in the privacy of his own home.


    He began to speak; then the Voice jabbed him in his head even harder.


    ¡°I said, you speak, you''re dead! Do you feel like dying today, Thomas?¡± The Voice yelled.


    Thomas shook his head and whimpered pitifully.


    ¡°Do you know why I''m here, Thomas?¡± The Voice asked.


    He shook his head again, but this time, with uncertainty, as if he was picturing all the people he had pissed off this week.


    ¡°Well, I''ll refresh your memory.¡± The Voice paused. ¡° Did you have a fuck anyone over recently?¡±


    Thomas held his head down and began to sob.


    ¡°Yea, remember now? You thought you got away with it, huh?¡± The Voice hovered over the shrinking man.


    Then there was darkness¡­


    ***


    Look at him. Sprawled out on his thousand-dollar rug in his two-hundred-dollar jammies.


    What a jerk-off.


    He''s even more pretentious in person. I mean, who spends more than twenty bucks on sleepwear anyway? He doesn''t even have a girlfriend. Sitting there jerking off to a reality TV show. Weirdo.


    Thomas, who was still unconscious after the blow to his head, was beginning to stir.


    Hmm, still alive. How unfortunate. The Voice smirks.


    It took much restraint not to kill Thomas. The Voice had followed him for weeks before deciding to make a move. It wasn''t easy picking the right moment to break into his condo. Thomas almost always had that big black guy babysitting him. They had to go to extreme lengths to ensure his ¡°handler¡± didn¡¯t return to Thomas¡¯ place that night. The Voice wasn¡¯t proud of what it took, but it worked.


    But for how long? They had to move quickly. Getting caught now would be a waste. And the attacker was pretty sure if it was the ¡°handler¡± who saw them, they wouldn¡¯t be handed over to the authorities¡ªinstead, they''d be ¡°handled.¡±


    The Voice, now standing over Thomas, slowly lowered to his level, drawing the weapon from their back and aiming it at him. They began tapping Thomas'' forehead with it. Thomas'' eyes flew open. At that moment, the attacker felt a flash of excitement. They¡¯d been waiting for this moment for too long.


    He thought he got away with it. Here he is, living his privileged little life with his privileged little job, carrying on without a worry in his pretty little world. I¡¯ll show him.


    The Voice gritted their teeth.


    The Voice despised people like Thomas. People like him felt they could take whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it, without consequence. Without remorse.


    They would show him. They would teach him a lesson he¡¯d never forget. They¡¯d make him suffer.


    He thought no one noticed what he did that night. But I was there, and I remember everything.


    FLASHBACK¡­


    It was the night of Thomas¡¯ Christmas party, and boy, it was a blast! He must have had ten shots of tequila with Bob from accounting. The night ended too early, but he was his own designated driver. He wanted to be responsible and stop before he started seeing triples instead of doubles. Even though all his coworkers saw how much he drank, no one stopped him when he headed to the exit with his keys. They only watched as he struggled to unlock his car door.


    As he drove down Chestnut Ridge Road, something jumped in front of his BMW.


    It must have been a skunk or something; those things were notorious in Rockland!


    Thomas slammed on his brakes as he felt the impact of whatever he had hit. Hesitantly, he opened the car door and followed the trail of his shattered headlights. He stopped in his tracks when he discovered that it was not an animal as he had hoped¡­


    THE PRESENT


    That night played in Thomas'' mind repeatedly. He felt hopelessness and shame that he never tried to save her life. But what was he to do? He was wasted, and he knew that if he had called the police, they would have indeed arrested him on the spot. So, instead, he dragged the young girl''s body off to the side of the road, covered it with leaves, and drove away without even a second thought. He began to vomit.


    When he finally composed himself, he started on his feet but realized he could not move. His feet were handcuffed together, but his hands were free. And in his reach was the .44 magnum.


    The Voice, however, was silent, as if waiting for Thomas to accept his fate. Then, it suddenly became apparent to Thomas what the Voice wanted him to do.


    He reached for the gun, oddly appreciative of how it felt in his hand, opened his mouth, and placed the gun barrel in it. The Voice spoke.


    ¡°Do it now, Thomas. You''re delaying the inevitable. Just do us all a favor and end it!¡±


    That night played in Thomas'' head once more. He decided The Voice was right. He took someone''s life¡­that is unforgivable. He was fooled into believing this would remain in the shadows forever. But there was one thing he had to know before he did what The Voice so adamantly commanded of him. Thomas felt a lump in his throat but managed to let the words escape from his lips.


    ¡°Who are you? Who was she to you?¡±