Savage (A Blood Feud Novel)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

James, in complete shock and dismay, turned to Rachel. She said something and shook her head. She placed her hands on her face.

James blurted, "What the fuck have I done?"

"What the fuck, you killed her!" Rachel said.

James paced back and forth. His hands were placed on his head. He was losing it. He wanted no more of this.

"Sweetie, we need to get the fuck out of here now!" Rachel said.

James stopped. He calmed a little, took a couple of deep breaths, and turned to look at his passenger. Slowly, he turned back and looked at the body. The poor woman was face-down, blood flowed from the impact of her head slamming into the pavement.

Rachel walked over to the body. She knelt down. She wasn't bothered by the fact that James had run over this poor woman. She searched through the woman's purse. She held out something.

James wondered what it was Rachel was holding. He glanced around nervously. No one had apparently seen the hit and run.

Good, James thought. I might get myself out of this one if we leave soon.

"Here," Rachel said.

She tossed a photo card at James. He glanced at the photo. The victim was beautiful, well she had been. Now she was dead. He flung the map to the ground.

"Jimmy, what was that?" Rachel asked. She pointed to the photo card.

James was starting to have a nervous breakdown. He had just killed a woman, one who could be a mother or a wife. He had no intention. It was an accident.

Rachel patted him. She said, "James, get on with it, alright? It's not your fault she died. She wasn't paying attention."

James turned around and looked at Rachel. "You're right, honey. It's not my fault. She was on her phone. She should have paid attention!"

"If we don't leave any minute we might get caught," Rachel said. "I'll drive."

The pair raced back into the car. They sped off. Sheila Savage was dead. Her cell phone was a few feet away.