Saxon’s Distortion by C.A. Rene

Cordelia

I’ve been drowning.

My heart is swollen, filled with love and regret, and I can’t seem to follow what it’s begging me to do. I don’t know how to. I’ve never loved anyone before, never wanted a relationship, and my damage was something I kept locked away. But, now it’s out there, handed to two people I barely know. One I love and the other she loves.

I also found my sister.

She’s so close, yet there’s a mountain between us and I have no idea how to breach it. I don’t want to bring her down, she seems to be living a good life and if I show up, my baggage will inevitably become hers. So much baggage.

I bring the vodka bottle to my lips, letting the bitter taste coat my tongue, and shudder at its intensity. I ditched the mix a few days ago. The library has been closed for almost a week. I called in with a family emergency and once the conversation was over, I fell into hysterics. I don’t even have a family.

My stomach rumbles, protesting the alcohol, and begging for sustenance, but I ignore it. I don’t want to eat, I pass out rather than sleep, and my mind is filled with her. Amelia Jones. The girl who helped me find my heart, only to show me what it felt like to have it break. It’s not her, it’s me. With that thought, I’m toppling over my couch, hysterics bubbling out again. That’s the most cliché line but it works.

The bottle is tipped back to my mouth and the burning liquid scorches a trail down my throat when there’s a loud banging. I sit up quickly, vodka dribbling down my chin and stare at my door. Couldn’t be. I live in an apartment building, it can get loud, but not like that. The banging starts again, and I’m startled, watching as the chain lock on my door shakes with the force. I paid my rent; I didn’t order food. Who the heck is at my door?

I stand up slowly and hold my arm out to place the bottle on the table, only to miss and hear it crash to the floor.

“Darn it.” I moan, that was the last of it.

“Cordelia!” A deep voice calls through the door. “I can hear you in there, open up.”

I pull open the door and stare deep into the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, like a patch of moss on the sunniest day. “The whole building heard me,” I huff at him and move aside to show him the shattered bottle, “you’re not special.”

Saxon pushes past me and into my tiny one-bedroom apartment, looking around. I can see his judgment, he grew up in a mansion, and his family rolls in wealth, this must be disgusting to him.

“Take a shower,” he orders, “I’ll clean this up.”

“Who do you think you a-”

Before I can finish, he’s in my face, those green eyes burning with anger, “your nephew by marriage, the love of your life’s only cock, and I’m the only one who sees you drowning. Shower!”

“Only cock?” What the fuck?

“That’s what you focus on from all of that?”

“I mean, who talks about cock like that? ‘Hey, how are you? I have a cock.’ That’s weird.” I stumble and right myself on the back of the couch.

“I didn’t say that.” He growls.

“Yeah,” I stumble again, “you did say cock, though.”

“Shower, Cordelia.” He snaps, “then you and I are going to have a long chat.”

The shower is complicated, but once it’s done, I admit, it’s sobered me up some. I get dressed and tie my damp hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. I head back out to my living room and find it cleaned, no evidence of shattered vodka bottles, just the stench of my embarrassment.

“This is what you’ve been doing for a week?” He asks when I sit on the couch next to him.

“Yes.”

“Why?” He’s not judging me, it’s curiosity prompting this little question session.

“It's what happens when I’m cornered or afraid.” I’m admitting this to him with trepidation, but he knows just about everything else, “alcohol and I have a long history together.”

“I see,” he nods. “Do you need help?”

“Like rehab?”

“Yeah, honestly, I haven’t dealt with family or friends who have had substance abuse problems, save for my sister Ivy,” he scratches at his chin, “but she dealt with it in a different way.”

“I don’t need help,” the motion of my head shaking send my stomach into a somersault, “I just need time to deal with-”

“You’ve been given that, and you fucked it up.” He cuts me off and his words fill me with shame. “My sister is getting married this weekend, in two days, and Amelia is the maid of honour.”

“That’s so nice-”

His hand comes up to cut me off again, “that’s the amount of time I’m giving you to sort your shit out until I intervene.”

“Intervene?”

“I will go to my aunt, tell her everything, and then speak with Amelia about everything I know and seen here today, I don’t ever lie, Cordelia, so don’t consider taking me up on my bluff.” His hand lands on my shoulder and he gives it a squeeze, “start with Adrianna today, after you eat.”

“She’s going to hate me.” I hate how my voice cracks and how much I’m admitting everything to this man I barely know. But he’s my nephew too, by marriage.

“That’s why you’re in here drinking yourself to death? Because you think someone might hate you?” His brow raises in disbelief, and I hear how stupid it sounds. “Even if she does,” he shrugs, “who cares? You wouldn’t be losing anything.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze, “but Amelia is someone you’re losing.”

“No, she’s someone I’ve lost.” I correct him and groan when a craving for vodka barrels through me.

“True,” I look up at him in shock, are they together now? “But you’re lucky you have me,” his finger bops my nose, “I know just how to help you get her back.”

“Why would you help me?”

“Because I see what you mean to her, and she means a lot to me.” Such a simple answer yet filled with so much meaning.

She’s a high school principal.

Saxon told me which school to go to and unfortunately, he couldn’t accompany me due to a lifelong restraining order. There’s a story about what he did, and I want to hear more about it from him, but maybe another day when I’m not about to throw up.

The building looks old, and it looks prestigious. Of course, it’s prestigious, it was built for the elite Catholic children of Whitsborough. I did my research. I know who the founding families were, and the Hintons were one of them. There’s not much you can find on the settlement years of Whitsborough, which only leads me to suspect nefarious men, and plans for world domination.

The large set of double oak doors stand ominously tall, looming over me like a formidable foe, and threatening my presence. Another wave of nausea wracks my body again and I breathe deeply, trying to dispel the anxiety. Saxon said he’s just up the street, he’s waiting for me, and all I have to do is text.

My hand wraps around the large iron handle, the cool metal chasing away some of my fear, and I give it a hard yank. I’m hit by a blast of cold air, the temperature immediately cooling the light sheen of sweat coating my skin. Another bout of anxiety rushes through me as the door booms shut behind me, locking me inside a darkened hallway. It looks evil in here, ominous for a school that worships apparent light and angels.

Just as Saxon described, I follow the signs guiding me toward the administration offices, and my sister. A few students linger in the hallways, all in the same uniforms of kilts and dress pants, blouses, and cardigans. None giving me a second look. I find myself standing in front of a glass office, a woman sitting at a desk behind it looks up from her computer and gives me a smile.

Why did I agree to do this?

There’s no appointment, I’m showing up here to introduce myself to this woman as her sister while she’s at work, and I should know better. I should’ve never let Saxon Greene talk me into this. I wasn’t in my right frame of mind when we discussed this plan. I’m about to turn and leave when a soft voice sounds from behind me.

“Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

Her voice sounds so much like my mother’s and when I turn to face her, it’s like staring at the female version of my father. She’s beautiful and those chocolate brown eyes radiate with kindness.

“Um, yes.” my voice cracks, “I’m here to see Adrianna Greene?” This is most certainly her, but I don’t voice it in case she becomes too suspicious of me.

“That’s me.” She nods, her smile lighting up her face and the dimple in her left cheek, exactly the same as our father’s. “Are you a parent?”

“Um, no.” My palms begin to sweat, and she notices my unease.

“Follow me this way,” she puts out her arm, “my office is over here.”

I follow her through the glass door, and we bypass a few people sitting at their desks, attentions focused on their computers. The closer we get to the large door ahead, the more I want to run, and never look back. I could leave Toronto, go back to Idaho, and live a life of quiet solitude. Only, I can’t.

I’m in love with a girl whose golden curls shine bright in the sun; I want to keep the friendship I’ve made with the green-eyed, brutally honest Saxon, and live my life in peace for once. I continue following my little sister into her office and breathe in the scent of lilacs. That was Mother’s favourite scent. It brings with it memories of pain and torture, amping up the anxiety to a new level.

“Please sit,” she motions to the chair across from her desk, her eyebrows plummeting when she gets a good look at me, “are you okay?”

I sit in the seat and take a deep breath, this is it. “My name is Cordelia Edwards and I come from a small town in Idaho. I’m here on a lead to find a sister I believed was lost to me.”

She’s nodding along, unaware I’m speaking about her, and probably thinking I’m looking for a student here. “Okay.” Still, she sounds a bit apprehensive.

“She was given up for adoption nearly forty-four years ago.” The lovely olive tone of her skin pales, and her throat works to swallow. “I believe the agency was called Love the Tots and situated out of New York.”

Her palms press against the wood of her desk, the tremors in her hands noticeable, and her mouth open and closes. “Who sent you?” Finally, she speaks.

“No one sent me,” I shake my head, “I’ve been searching, and it’s led me here. I did have a little help from a young man named Saxon Greene. If you are having a hard time believing me, he has told me to tell you to call him.”

Her eyes narrow, her hands still trembling as she pushes herself up to standing, “if you could give me a minute?”

I nod and watch her rush from her office on wobbly feet. The anxiety is still there but I don’t feel as overwhelmed with it, thankfully Saxon will back up my story, and I’m grateful for it, I don’t know how this would’ve turned out otherwise. Maybe she would’ve laughed in my face and thrown me out; I’m really hoping she’s not going to do that now.

The door opens behind me, and I keep my gaze straight ahead, fear making my muscles stiff. I feel her presence as she sits in the chair next to mine. I look at her and find red, swollen eyes, searching my face, looking for what I would assume is resemblances.

“I was told you have a picture of your parents that may convince me?” Her voice is so soft, sweet, just like Mother’s.

“Yes,” I clear my throat, digging into my purse for my phone. “It’s a bit grainy since it’s an old photo.”

“That's fine,” she sniffs, and I can still feel her penetrating stare on the side of my face.

I pull out my phone and bring up the photo of my parents, they’re gazing at each other with smiles on their faces. They look young and youthful, before the Canonites were ever a thought. I hand her the phone and now it’s my turn to watch her closely, soaking in the features that are so familiar to me.

“He’s right,” she whispers as she runs her finger over the screen, “I look a lot like this man.”

“Almost a replica.” I nod.

“And you look like her.” She looks up with watery eyes and a small smile. “I want to hear everything, but we can’t do this here, and my family is very overprotective, they’ll require DNA testing.”

“I figured,” I nod, “your parents have an empire to protect.”

“My parents?” She tosses her head back and laughs, the sound piercing my heart. She really is the copy and paste version of Father. “Fuck them. I mean my real family. You’ll meet them.” She nods. “Is there any way you could go for that swab today?” Her eyes are pleading, “I realize it’s rushed-”

“No,” I shake my head to cut her off, “that’s fine. Today is fine. Um, where should I go?”

She begins tapping on my phone, bringing up my maps app and plugging in an address, “Saxon said he’ll take you there himself. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t believe you, we’ve just been through Hell and back, multiple times.” She cringes.

“I understand.” I nod and stand from the chair, giving her an awkward wave. “I’ll go now.”

“The results will be back in a few hours; would you like to meet me at Ember Greene’s house? That’s Saxon’s mother.” She looks anxious, almost like she’s fearful I’ll run.

“Sure, I can do that.” The constant bobbing of my head is bringing on more nausea, and even though I’m excited to finally speak to her, it’s a lot to take in.

“I’ve put my number in there, you can call me once it’s done or when you get to Ember’s.” Her face flushes, and I’m starting to see excitement colour her features.

“Okay.” I nod and give her a smile.

I head out the same way she led me in, and nerves really begin to take over my thoughts, what if she’s not the one? What if all this time was wasted on the wrong person? No, I shake myself and step out of the school, she’s the spitting image of my father.

I find Saxon’s Mercedes idling by the front steps and the window on the passenger side rolls down.

“Hey, Librarian,” he winks, “let’s get that swab and check what STDs you got.”

“What?” A few snickers come from the children around me, and I groan, “you’re ridiculous.”

“Hop in, Chlamydia won’t solve itself.” He rolls the window up, and I look around at the small groups of teenagers. Great, there’s no coming back here.

I get in the car with the chuckling asshole, and ignore him as I do up my belt. He drives off, giving me the silence he somehow senses I need until we pull up to a medical clinic.

“She seemed hopeful,” his voice breaks the silence as we both stare at the entrance, “she’s had a rough childhood, practically alone for most of it, until my mom.” He turns to look at me and green clashes with blue, “I really hope this turns out to be true. I wouldn’t want to have to kill you.” No humour on his face, just complete seriousness.

“Har, har.” I roll my eyes and get out of the car. That was a joke, right?

I open the front door and find an empty waiting area and two nurses sitting at the front desk. It smells like disinfectant and hospital, bringing back memories of a different clinic. Memories of cold metal; memories of loss; memories of depravity.

“Hello?” One of them stands, “are you Cordelia Edwards?”

“Yes.” My voice cracks with fear and I try taking a deep breath, only to be assaulted with flashes of being spread open, of blood and death.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to find Saxon peering down at me, “we’re here for the rush appointment.” His face turns back to the nurse, “emphasis on rush.”

And it is rushed.

I’m barely in the room before they have a swab in my mouth, scraping against the inside of my cheek. It’s sealed up and I’m told the results will be given in a few hours.

“What will they compare the results to?” I stop outside of the clinic, my hand on the door handle. “Adrianna wasn’t here.”

“This clinic services my family for the most part,” he shields his eyes from the sun, “they have all our information on file.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s go back to my house, I can get you boozed up again if that’s how you want to cope?” His eyes are twinkling with humour, and I can’t stop the smile that crosses my mouth.

“You’re a little prick.” I snort and get in the car.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about my cock?” He flicks my nose and starts the car. Laughing when I roll my eyes.

I like this one.

Saxon

Mom has Cordelia in the kitchen, talking about God knows what, and I’m sitting in the family room with a piece of paper in my hands. When I woke up in the hotel room with Amelia the morning after the party, I found a note slipped under the door.

Now I’m just angry, and the last few days have been spent sitting in front of Jack Taylor’s family’s grocery store. Following him around, witnessing his mundane life, and waiting for the piece of shit to fuck up. It must be him. I don’t see any other connection. Luckily, this week, Amelia is home and finished with her finals, but it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in that dorm. She doesn’t like living with her parents and she lives far enough away to be eligible to rent it all year round.

I need to catch this fucker, and soon.

“You’re a little shit and if I had the energy, I’d be throwing you over my fucking knee.” My dad growls as he slowly walks into the room.

It’s been two days since the party and he’s still recovering from my Molly slip.

“Karma for bringing the women.” I shrug.

“You can’t just drug people, Saxon.” He’s said this to me three times already.

“I’m pretty sure I did, though.” His eyes burn with a glower, “Mom said you were the sexiest she’s seen you in years, just thank me already.”

He groans into his hands, but I don’t miss the dimple as he grins. Yeah, him and Mom were more than okay that night, it’s not my fault his old ass can’t handle the comedown.

The front door opens and in walks Aunt Adri with her two husbands. Both men are looking worse for wear. I don’t understand how the women recovered so quick, but the men are all fucking struggling. I push up out of my seat and head into the kitchen, not wanting Cordelia to be surrounded by people she doesn’t know and feeling overwhelmed. My family is fucking extra.

“I should’ve arrested you,” Uncle Emmett growls as I walk into the kitchen.

“Too bad you were busy using those cuffs for something else,” I retort, and laugh when Uncle Travis gives him a questioning look, bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“I had fun.” Aunt Adri hums and kisses my cheek. “Have we heard anything yet?” She looks from Mom to Cordelia.

“Not yet,” Cordelia answers, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

The room falls silent, and Aunt Adri takes a seat on the other side of Cordelia, her hand landing on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Cordelia stiffens under her touch, and I give it a few moments. If she’s uncomfortable, I have no problem telling people to back off. My family loves to smother. She relaxes and throws a timid smile to my aunt, “just hate waiting.”

“Cordelia,” Mom chimes in, “did you want to tell us a bit about your family? Why did they give up Adrianna? Where were you from?”

“Uh,” I can see her stiffening up again as I’m pulling out her chair, and gently guiding her up.

“She doesn’t need to answer that, not until results are in and when she’s feeling comfortable to do so.” I link my fingers through hers and give her a once over. She squeezes my hand and gives me a thankful smile.

“Fair enough.” Mom nods but I can see the determination in her eyes. “But, if those results come back positive, Adri deserves that information.”

“If the results come back positive, she can tell Aunt Adri and then they can decide from there.”

Mom looks from me to Cordelia, a crease between her brow and her eyes filled with questions. “Where did you say you worked again?”

“University of Toronto library.” Cordelia gives an awkward smile and releases my hand.

Yeah, Mom is smart, and her smirk is quick. “That’s right,” she nods and leaves it at that.

The shrill ring of Cordelia’s phone in the silent kitchen has all of us startled. I don’t know why I’m so fucking nervous; it feels like I’m solving the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune, I know the answer but I’m feeling anxious to get it out.

“Hello?” Cordelia’s voice shakes, her whole body is actually shaking. “This is her.” You could hear a literal pin drop in this kitchen right now, and Aunt Adri looks pale with anxiety, “you’re sure?” Cordelia’s shoulders relax and her eyes slide to mine. “Thank you.” She hangs up.

“Well?” Aunt Adri stands.

“He said he was sending you an email now, but it’s without a doubt a match. We are siblings.” Cordelia chokes back a sob, and Aunt Adri runs to her, wrapping her arms around her.

“I’m so happy you came to find me.” Aunt Adri whispers, and I feel like I’m imposing on something really personal, something unrelatable.

“I got to be somewhere,” my voice cuts through all the excitement. “Librarian,” I grin at Cordelia, “welcome to the family. One day you may wish you never did this at all.”

“Shut up, Saxon,” Mom moans.

“But now that you’re stuck with us, you will never need a single thing, and no one will lay a finger on you.”

“Yes.” Uncle Emmett nods.

“Without a doubt,” Dad agrees.

“Now, blink twice if you need me to get you out of here,” I blink exaggeratedly, and everyone laughs.

“I’m okay.” She nods.

“I can get her back to Toronto tonight.” Dad cuts in.

“Is that okay?” I search her face for any discomfort but only find elation.

“It’s fine, Saxon.” Her hand lands on my arm, “I’ll be fine.”

I nod and lift my hand, “some of us have to work all hours of the day, y’all enjoy yourselves.” I head toward the front door, when suddenly, an arm is around my throat, and a hand wraps around my mouth.

“She’s the one Amelia is getting down with, right?” Mom whispers in my ear.

I pull her hand off my mouth and wrap my arm around her neck, bringing her into a close headlock, “yeah, but hush about it. She looks like a scared kitten in there, ready to bolt.” I kiss the top of her head and release her, grabbing my keys.

“How late will you be out tonight? Who are you watching?”

“Late. Jack Taylor.” I open the front door and she fists her hand into the back of my sweater, hauling me back.

“Be careful, son.” She kisses my cheek then shoves me out the door, shutting it swiftly behind me.

He comes out of the grocery store at midnight, one hour after closing. His face is drawn, nearly haggard, and he looks oh-so-tired. Why the fuck are you tired, Jack Taylor? He stands at his truck, his face illuminated by his phone’s light, and his thumbs fly over the screen. I chug back a Monster to stave off the beginning of my exhaustion and wait. I can wait all fucking night; I have patience in spades.

He drags his hand through his hair, looking a bit agitated, and a lot tired. So fucking tired looking. The bags under his eyes have bags. Poor Jack Taylor, when your soul is consumed with evil, sleeping and eating become secondary.

I envision my hands wrapping around his skinny fucking neck, and my thumbs pushing against his windpipe, cutting off his oxygen as he struggles beneath me. His time is up, and he has no idea the ending planned for him. I can’t act now because all I have are assumptions, and as vindicated as they feel, they could still be wrong.

He gets into his truck and the deep rumble of the ignition echoes around the silent lot. The taillights glare a bright red as he slams the ugly vehicle into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. I wait to see which way he turns, then my car is in gear, and following behind, minus the headlights. I know all of Whitsborough like the back of my hand, driving with minimal vision doesn’t bother me, and with the rumble of this fucker’s engine, I doubt a deer will be running out. He turns on his street and pulls into his driveway, disappointment running through me. He hasn’t been going anywhere besides work and home, but I’m onto something and refuse to let up.

I park across the street and settle in for a long night, watching as the stupid asshole walks up to his front door. He still has the phone up to his face, and I snort when his foot catches on a lifted patio slab, making him trip forward. He stumbles, catches his footing, and looks around. He really is as stupid as he fucking looks. Once he’s inside, I open my messages to find a few from Amelia.

Melly: Final fitting for my bridesmaid’s dress was today.

Melly: Is Ivy okay? She’s making us wear the colour peach.

Melly: Saxon! I need someone to vent to!

Melly: My boobs nearly fell out of the dress, the lady had to take out the padding.

Melly: Ugh, where are you?

Me: Is that code for come feel me up?

Me: Peaches and cream huh? Don’t wear panties, I’ll take care of the cream part.

The three little dots blink on the screen, and I smile in anticipation. She’s going to chew me out about how crass and disgusting I am.

Melly: No, you can’t come feel me up! My parents are here.

Melly: No panties? Sounds good.

What the fuck does she mean, sounds good?

Before I can reply, the front door shuts from Jack Taylor’s house, and I find him dressed in all black, getting into his truck. This might be it, finally. I’d love to catch him in the fucking act. He gets on the highway that takes us westbound, toward Toronto. My mouth quirks up, and I regret not painting my face.

He turns off at the University exit, and my heart begins to beat in excitement. I know he doesn’t need to be here, he’s done for the year, and his dorm was cleared out last week.

Why are we here, Jack Taylor?

He pulls into the dorm parking lot, and I stay idling just outside of it. He parks across three spots and exits the truck, once again doing a half-assed look around at his surroundings. He pulls up his hood and I make a left into the lot, my lights still out. He’s jogging toward his dorm, which is the building right beside Amelia’s. I swear to God, if he’s looking for her, I will kill him tonight.

I pull up my own hoodie and walk briskly to where he disappeared. There’s a humidity in the air tonight making my skin feel slightly damp, and the moon is hidden well behind dark dense clouds. Looks like a storm might be coming in. Just as I finish the thought, a bright strip of lightning snakes across the sky, illuminating the area, and there’s Jack slipping into the side entrance of Amelia’s dorm.

Yeah, he’s about to die.

The door shuts just as I reach it, and a loud thunderclap booms overhead, the noise causing me to pause. It feels ominous here, like something dark and dangerous is lurking, and that rarely happens, I’m always the darkest in the room. I pull open the door, just as another one shuts above my head. I don’t know what floor he ran up to, but Amelia’s dorm is on the third floor. I’ll start there.

I take the stairs slowly, and curse at the little light in here. The staircases are the most dangerous spots for predators, and yet the fixtures they have are either blinking or completely out. In the women’s dorm, no less. I reach the second floor and hear a female squeal. I should be heading up to the third floor, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

I open the second-floor door and hear another slam shut further down the hallway. With one final glance at the stairwell door shutting slowly behind me, I roll my eyes. I need to make sure the girl is okay. I start in the direction of the shutting door and stop when a loud thud comes from above my head. Jack is doing something up there. I rush down the hall, pausing at each door, listening for anything, and when there’s no sound, I run again for the staircase.

Was this some kind of distraction?

The trepidation I’m feeling is confusing, Amelia isn’t here, and he’s going to find her room empty. So, why do I have the need to get my ass up there quickly? I don’t stick around to figure it out, my gut instinct is there for a reason, and if it’s telling me something is wrong, then something is fucking wrong. I yank open the stairwell door again and run up the steps, my boots sending loud thudding noises as I hit each one. I no longer care about being stealthy or quiet, I have a bad fucking feeling.

I swing open the third-floor door and groan when I remember Amelia’s dorm room is down at the far end of the hall. I run, my footsteps loud, my arms swinging, and my heart fucking slamming in my ribcage. I run so fucking fast and yet it’s not fast enough.

Her door is open a crack and blood smeared on the handle, finger smudges on the white wood. I stop suddenly and listen, there’s no noise, not even a rustle. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and that dark feeling I had earlier returns. I grab my knife from my sweater pocket and nudge the door open further with my foot. A few of Amelia’s things are still in here, a light blue scarf hangs on a hook beside a few jackets. Some of her books are on the desk, and a few pictures on the walls of her family. The dorm is small, no more than twelve feet by twelve feet, so it’s hard to miss the body lying in the middle of the floor.

Jack Taylor has bled out from the deep gash across his throat, his blood pooling around his head. That’s not the only thing suspicious about the room, there’s a bloody message dripping down the wall for me.

Wrong mouse, meaning this person knows I’ve been trailing Jack, knows what my suspicions were, and decided to play a fucking game with me. I curse under my breath and call in for a cleanup. I can’t report this, and the killer knows it, too many questions will be asked about the message on the wall, and its connections. I’m back at square one and utterly defeated. How did this get so fucked up?

With anger making my insides vibrate, I go back down to that second floor, and search the dorm rooms for any one left over. Who hasn’t left and why would they still be here? I start swinging in unlocked doors, the wood bouncing off the wall guards, and seeing empty dorms. By the time I get to the end, two rooms are locked. I knock on the first one, when there’s no answer, I kick it in, breaking the flimsy lock. Empty. The second dorm room is not empty, I stand right outside of it, with a thin wooden slab separating us. There are shadows moving under the door, and a rustling coming from inside.

My fist hits the door, “open.” I demand.

The rustling stops and then a sharp intake of breath, unmistakably female. That giggle I heard earlier coming to mind. I bang on the door again and it slowly opens, revealing a girl with a sizable bruise around her right eye.

“Yes?” Her voice shakes with fear, and she has the chain lock firmly in place.

“Dorms are supposed to be cleared out, why are you still here?”

“Are you Security?” Her eyes widen and dart around me.

She looks familiar to me the longer I stare at her, and I can’t seem to fucking put my thumb on it. “No.” My words are abrupt, “it’s dangerous for you to be here alone.” I scan her face, noticing the green coming in around her purple bruise. Not fresh, maybe a week old.

“Trust me.” She whispers, “I’m safer here.”

The door shuts in my face and I should force it open, demand she tell me what the fuck is wrong. Then demand she tell me who the fuck she is, but I don’t. I’ll have to let it go because as tragic as it seems, it’s not my problem. I have enough to deal with.

So, I leave her be, she can have this place as a temporary safe haven.

Amelia

I swing by the university’s admin office to drop off payment to keep my dorm for the summer, and the secretary informs me the cleaners I hired have just left. I’m about to tell her I ordered no such thing but then decide to keep it to myself. I’m not going to complain about an extra clean dorm. I let her know I’ll be back in the room in about a week and then head back outside.

The campus is still busy with students taking summer courses but not nearly as packed as it will be for fall.

“Amelia, we meet again.” Veronica’s voice hits my back, and I scramble to swallow my groan.

“Hey,” my smile probably looks like I ate something sour, but she doesn’t react. She has on the same oversized sunglasses again, and I try to see past the dark lens to her skin underneath. Does she still have that black eye?

“Are you signing up for summer courses?” She looks back toward the admin office I just came from.

“No, just securing my dorm for the summer, I don’t really want to stay in Whitsborough.” I explain, “Are you taking summer courses?”

“Yeah, I had to catch up on a few credits.” She shrugs. “I get what you mean about Whitsborough,” she sniffs, “I’m trying to get out as well.”

“Is everything okay, Veronica?”

“You know how it is there,” she waves me off, “everyone knows everyone else’s business. I just need to find a place here in the city and be away from all the buzz. My parents are so overbearing, and they hate who I’m dating.”

I open my mouth to ask who she's dating when the same SUV from last time comes barreling into the parking lot.

“See ya, Amelia.” She calls out as she runs for the vehicle.

There’s a part of me that wants to chase after her and ask her if she’s truly okay, to double check if her sunny disposition is real. But I don’t. I can’t assume what she’s going through, and it was just one bruise, there are no others visible. She was wearing a small crop top, short shorts, if she was being beaten, there’d be more, right? She wouldn’t be so outwardly happy, right?

Truthfully, it’s not something I’ve ever dealt with, and I don’t want to cause a problem where there isn’t one. So, I mind my business. People have accidents all the time that could give them black eyes, everything is fine. My eyes settle on the library, it’s hard to ignore the longing to walk over there and confront the librarian. I don’t even know if she’s there. I haven’t heard from her, and haven’t bothered to ask Saxon if he has. I don’t want to know.

My car is parked at the far end of the lot, in the shade of the large oak tree, and I groan at the long walk ahead of me. My father always told me to park in the shade, that way the car isn’t stifling hot when you get back in, but right now, I wish I hadn’t. There’s a prickling at the nape of my neck, an awareness that’s activated, telling me I’m not alone. I stop walking and look around, my eyes scanning the treeline. I don’t see anything, but instead feel it. I don’t linger, I rush ahead and unlock my doors, jumping into the car.

I don’t waste time as I leave the parking lot, and make my way back to Whitsborough. Tomorrow is Ivy and Neil’s wedding. Ivy will be staying with her parents, and she’s asked all of her bridesmaids to stay with her. I feel sorry for Saxon being around that many females. Or maybe I don’t, he’d probably like it, not that he would ever say.

Ivy is chewing on her freshly manicured nails, and I slap the hand out of her mouth, “it’s stupid to be this nervous after being together for nearly eight years, right?” Her face is pale, and her ocean eyes sparkle with unease.

“Why did you guys wait so long anyway?” One of Ivy’s snooty college friends sneers from the other couch.

“Neil and I were waiting for the right time, but things kept coming up, and I finally got myself situated with my career.” She shrugs.

Ivy is a part-time grief counselor at Travis’ clinic, and she also runs her own non-profit business helping families in need. Neil is Vice President of Vin’s company Legendary Wheels, and I agree, they’re finally situated. I’m proud of them for not rushing into it. They got engaged after two years of dating and then moved in together, now six years later, they’re getting married. Hopefully, with a baby on the way soon, I know how much they want one.

“What do you think the guys are doing?” She asks, her teeth now gnawing into her lip.

“Probably watching porn and comparing scrotums,” Sonja cuts in. She’s Adri, Travis, and Emmett’s child and she’s fucking hilarious. Her hair is the same shade as Adri’s, a dark chocolate brown, and hangs down her back in a straightened shining sheet. Her eyes are the same ocean shade as Ivy and Emmett.

“Ew,” another one of Ivy’s uppity bitches screws up her face.

“Don’t like ball sacks?” Sonja inquires, her brow lifting.

“This is certainly not something a lady speaks of,” the girl—fuck, I forgot both of their names—retorts. Thing One and Thing Two.

“Babe!” I hear Neil’s booming voice from the front door.

“Motherfucker.” I snarl and get up as Ivy shoves by me, eager to see her soon-to-be husband.

“Baby!” She squeals and jumps up in his arms.

The guys are standing behind him, and I snicker when Saxon rolls his eyes. “Big baby missed his mama.”

“My wife.” Neil growls, and Saxon shrugs.

Gabe pokes his dark blond head in and gives me a wink, “how’s my big sister doing?”

“I’m about done with painting nails and talking to dumbasses,” Sonja thumbs over her shoulder to Thing One and Two. “Tell me you have alcohol and strippers.”

“Not unless you want your twin breaking it down for those hot dumbasses.” Samuel shoves Gabe aside and steps in the house. I swear they’re like a younger version of Emmett and Ember, and just as much trouble. He has the same hair as Sonja and same eyes, nearly identical save for the beauty mark he has on his cheek.

“Nasty fucker.” Sonja grins, “these girls don’t want to see your little man.”

“Maybe he’s a grower like Cameron!” Carmelo yells from outside, and I lose it. It’s been a running joke for years now that Cameron has a small dick, and I think it started with Saxon.

“Wee pee-pee,” Sonja alters her voice, “that’s what Mom used to call you.”

“When I was a fucking toddler,” Samuel looks at the thoroughly disgusted Thing One and Two in apology, “she hasn’t seen it in years though, so she doesn’t call me that anymore, because I’m older now. I’m twenty by the way, completely legal.”

“What did I miss?” Sabrina—Carmelo’s younger sister—huffs inside, her bag thrown over her shoulder, “wait, no dicks allowed before the wedding!” Where Carmelo looks like his birth father, Sabrina looks like hers. She’s golden tanned, long light brown hair with random streaks of pink, and big hazel eyes. Her face is always immaculately done up, and she’s tall and willowy like her mother Marlana. She’s been attending a university in Quebec and her flight just came in this evening.

Having them all here brings back fun memories of our childhood, and it makes me miss the older sister I never got along with. Her and Ivy were always loud and plotting together, and I miss her presence.

“Sab!” Sonja squeals and grabs Sabrina in a tight hug, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Hey, Sonny,” she chuckles, “hey, Sammy.”

Samuel grins—the look way too similar to Emmett’s—and Carmelo comes inside.

“The airport was a madhouse,” Carmelo grumbles, “then this one was all whiny when we were dropping her off, I want to hang out with my wife.” He mocks Neil.

“Wanna go to the strip and race Shelby?” My brother completely ignores the heckling, and his loving gaze is focused on Ivy. Sometimes I envy them and what they have, it’s like taking a knife to my stomach.

“Yes!” Ivy jumps and claps her hands. “Let’s all go to the strip!”

Everyone starts filing out of the house, and I turn to grab a sweater, coming face to face with Saxon.

“Hi, Melly,” his warm breath fans my face as he tucks a curl behind my ear, “are you having fun?”

“I am now.” I smile back at him. I haven’t been completely happy for a while, and it’s obvious he can see it when he’s looking deep in my eyes.

“What can I do to make it better?” His lips are mere millimeters from mine.

“Let me sit in the car you race, anything vibrating under my ass will help.”

“How do you know I’ll race?” His green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Because Ivy will goad you like always, and you can never turn down a challenge.”

“True,” he hauls me into his chest and places a kiss on my lips, “think I can get these wrapped around my cock while I’m racing?”

“Maybe,” I smirk at him.

His fingers link with mine and he pulls me out to their garage. I’ve only ever been in here one other time and that was to grab keys for Saxon off the wall. Most of the cars are covered but when we step inside, I gasp. There are at least twenty cars here and even though I’m not an enthusiast, this is amazing. He brings me to a car and lifts the covering off. It's midnight-blue and sparkling.

“What car is this? I’ve never seen you drive it.” I run my hand over the hood.

“This is a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda HEMI. I still remember the day Dad brought this home, I was nine.”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, “is it fast?”

“Mmhmm.” He has a small smile around his lips. “It’s our only chance to beat Ivy’s Shelby.”

“Then we ride the HEMI.” I laugh.

“Call it a ‘Cuda, for the love of God.”

We get in the car and the rumble of the motor sends a shock through me, it’s so powerful. When he puts it into drive, it purrs louder, and I squeal as we race down the driveway. Everyone is long gone, but I have a feeling we won’t be too far behind, not with how fast this car is.

“Your dad has the best job.” I squeal when he revs the engine at a streetlight.

“Yeah, he does.”

We reach the strip and Ivy looks at us with wide eyes, surprise evident on her face. “Why does Ivy look afraid?”

“Oh, probably because Dad would kill us if he knew I took this out of the garage, much less raced it.”

“Saxon!” I gasp.

“It’s okay,” he grins, “they’re staying at Aunt Adri’s place tonight, no one will know.”

He steps out of the car, and I follow, just as Ivy’s scream hits my ears.

“Saxon! If you get a single scratch on that thing, Dad will fucking bury you in the backyard.”

“Is that nerves speaking, sister?” Saxon teases.

“Saxon,” Dahlia comes to stand with us, “don’t mess up the paint on this one, seriously, Dad will explode.”

“Don’t worry, Little Flower,” he ruffles her curls. “Nothing will happen to the car.”

“Come on, Dahlia.” Neil grabs Saxon’s little sister with a smirk, “let’s watch these two compare wee pee-pee sizes.”

“What?” Saxon cocks his head, “obviously I’m bigger. Are you saving yourself for marriage?”

“We’ll see,” Neil winks at me, and I snicker.

“If he’s having issues with the female anatomy, that’s probably why there’s no pregnancy.” He’s shaking his head as he watches my brother walk away.

“Oh my God, let’s get this done.” I sit back in the car. I’m exhausted and sleep hasn’t been coming easy. I want to try and get rest tonight, so my face doesn’t resemble a corpse for the wedding tomorrow.

Ivy is already at the starting line, revving the engine of her pretty red car. Saxon pulls up beside her, and snickers as he revs his too, making her shoot him a glare. The ‘Cuda definitely sounds louder. I don’t know if that makes a difference or not.

Everyone is lined up along the side and it brings me back to the years when we would come out here with the local college and high school kids. I was barely out of elementary school, and still, I remember the thrill of it all. Now I get to experience it first-hand.

Saxon begins to undo his jeans, and I stare at him in shock, “what are you doing?”

“Preparing for what we agreed on, Melly.” He winks, and my stomach flips.

“Oh,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Saxon’s finger strokes my cheek, and we’re startled when Ivy revs again.

“Alright, let’s get this done,” Saxon rolls his eyes. Sabrina walks out onto the road and gives us a wink, her hair blowing in the wind.

“She’s beautiful.” My eyes rove over her in admiration.

“Eyes on the prize, Melly.” Saxon tsks and pats his lap.

“For fuck’s-”

I’m cut off as Sabrina’s arms drop, and Saxon has us gunning forward, slamming me back into the seat. The speed feels like having a heavy boulder pressed against you, keeping you stationary, but the world around you blurs by.

“Fuck,” Saxon growls as Ivy takes the lead.

“She’s good.” I nod, “she used to always win out here on the strip.”

“I know,” he snarls, still sounding pissed.

He slams the gearshift into another slot, and the veins on his forearm pop, making me damp between the legs. His serious expression is bordering on anger, his hands are clenching around the steering wheel and gear shift, and his growling groans are turning me on.

Every time he gets on par with her, she pulls ahead, and I can feel the frustration palpable in the air. Finally, we line up, our windows parallel, and Ivy throws us a smirk. I take that moment to pull Saxon out of his pants, his cock hardening in record time, and dip down into his lap. Saxon laughs and then it ends on a groan as I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

The car jerks a bit and as I bob up and down on his cock, he lets out a loud whoop, making him flex in my mouth. A horn honks behind us, but I don’t stop sucking Saxon off, and even when the car jerks to a stop, I’m continuing to slurp him deep.

“Fuck yes, Melly.” He moans, lifting his hips upward and gripping my curls.

I whimper around him when he picks up the pace, brutally fucking my mouth, and making my jaw strain. It’s painful, but I want to feel his cum sliding down my throat so bad. He gives me one final thrust and his balls slap up against my chin, his groan sounding pained and guttural. His salty cum squirts down my throat and I swallow him down, moaning around his still jerking length.

Finally, after swallowing every drop, I sit up and look around us. It’s dark and both sides of the road are lined with dense pine trees. No streetlights here.

“Did you win?” I try to find Ivy’s car.

“Yeah,” he grips my chin and pulls my face back around, “I think I did.”