Amy's mistake.

Evening was looming. A brisk wind shaped troubled waves, crashing orange and pink highlights against the shore of Turkish beaches. Dallas leant back against the railings which separated the soft, white sand and the stone footpath. He sucked heavily on a cigarette, drawing soothing smoke into his lungs, then exhaled slowly. Anxiety moulded thick lines into his forehead, as he waited for Amy to return. She wouldn’t betray me, he convinced himself. She said she loves me.

***

“I love you, Dally, I swear I do,” Amy lied, caressing the side of Dallas’ face, her fingers trembling with untold fear. “Just let me go and see him. Explain to him.” Sluggish black trails of tears spoilt the beauty of her baby face. “I’ll come back, and we can leave. And we’ll never look back.”
Dallas stared longingly and her perfectly pink lips. He listened to her soft voice, believing every word that left those oh-so-perfect lips. He nodded.
“One hour, baby,” he whispered, his Irish roots stifling his pronunciation. “If you’re not back in one hour, I’ll come and find you. And kill every bastard that gets in my way.” His face didn’t change. Amy knew too well that his violent words weren't just threats - he was serious.


***


Dallas flicked away the butt of his cigarette, before checking his phone for the time. Thirty two minutes. Thirty two minutes until he would go on a vicious rampage.
Slow footsteps approached. Dallas lifted his head to meet the eyes of a familiar man approaching. Shayne, Amy’s father. He pushed up off the wall and readied himself for a battle.
But Shayne walked past him and leant against the railings beside him, sparking up a cigarette.
“Alright?” Shayne said, an awkward smile probing the corners of his lips.
Dallas leant back again, looking him over apprehensively. Something wasn’t right. He brushed it off.
“Aye, I’m good,” he muttered back, taking a drag on Shayne’s cigarette when he’s offered it.
“Nothing on your mind then?” Shayne asked eagerly, taking it back.
“Why’d you ask?” Dallas countered defensively. No, something definitely wasn't right. His hand slipped into his pocket, forming a fist around a cold, metal handle.
Shayne’s eyes were drawn to his pocket, alarm spreading over his face.
“No reason, man,” he replied softly, tensing up and taking a step back.
“She fucking lied to me.”
“Who? Dallas, I have no idea-“
“You’re just as fucking bad!” yelled Dallas, closing in on Shayne. He drew the knife from his pocket.
Shayne knew he was in trouble. He backed off, hands up in defence. But Dallas was adamant and riled up, and had already decided he had nothing to lose.


***


Moonlight crept over the shadows of night time. Blue flashing lights spoilt the natural beauty of those Turkish beaches. Unconscious and pale, Shayne lay lifeless on a stretcher as a paramedic slammed the doors shut.
A small, blonde woman picked up a blood stained shirt, ripped from of Shayne's body and left as a lonely memory of that night’s events. She lifted her head and watched after the ambulance. Oh, Sophia. Poor little Sophia. She’d still love Dallas, no matter what he’d done.