Saxon’s Distortion by C.A. Rene

Amelia

My heart is exploding in my chest, and I only have myself to blame. I knew the moment I let Saxon into my heart, he would break it. But like a foolish girl, I thought my love could change him, and like a selfish girl, I thought it was possible to have them both. It’s not so far out of the realm of comprehension when his very own family has two such relationships.

His bedroom door creaks open and for a split second, I pray it’s him. Instead, I’m looking into the concerned blue eyes of my girlfriend. She looks nervous and slightly uncomfortable as she slowly steps inside. Maybe she’s afraid of me no longer wanting her, and that thought sends a shot of satisfaction through me. I don’t know why and the guilt I feel is immediate.

I mean I do know why.

Cordelia loves me, I realize that now, but I didn’t know that when she avoided me for weeks. I didn’t know it when she denied us so often, and a part of me wants her to feel what that insecurity is like.

“I saw him leave,” she nods to the door. “I’m not going to ask if everything is okay.”

“No, it’s not okay.” I shrug, “but I always knew this would happen.”

“Do you want to go get some breakfast? Then maybe we can go back to my place?”

“Yes,” I nod enthusiastically, I want out of this house and away from his scent that permeates every room.

I rush back into the spare room and my breath catches in my throat at the evidence of what we did last night scattered around.

“I’ll clean up and you can order us an Uber.” Cordelia says as she darts around the room, throwing the different lubes and strap-on back in the bags. I can still feel them both, deep inside me, and the burn I’m feeling in both places is a constant reminder.

I head into Ivy’s old bedroom and find two black tracksuits for Cordelia and me. She’s making the bed when I return, handing her the clothing. I gather our dresses and fold them up, then throw my hair up into a messy bun.

“Fuck the rest,” I say as she’s about to head to the washroom. “He can deal with it when he’s back. I want to leave, and the Uber is at the gate.”

“What about locking up?” She asks as she pulls the clothes on.

“This place is Fort Knox,” I snort. “It self-locks when we leave. Nothing but the best for the Greenes.”

I leave the house a completely changed person than when I entered it yesterday. I was sad then, like I am now, but I’ve come a full three-sixty. Only this time, I know what to expect around the bend and harden my heart, preparing to move on with minimal damage.

Approaching the gatehouse, I hit the button to open it, spotting the timer on the wall. We have twenty seconds to get out before it shuts behind us. There’s an Uber idling at the side of the road, a black SUV, and the driver can hardly be seen through the blacked-out windows. I feel a bit of apprehension, but I’m not alone, I have Cordelia with me, and besides, I was taught some self-defence. The thought of self-defence jams my throat with emotion, and I quickly try to swallow it away.

I’m never going to want to step into my mother’s gym again.

We get in the SUV and just as we close the doors, Emmett’s chief of police car pulls up to the house. Maybe Saxon called him to come by and get rid of us. Rationally, I know this isn’t the case, Saxon doesn’t act like that. But my emotions are a tangled web and they’re dominating all logical reasoning.

“Hello.” Cordelia smiles at the driver. I can’t see his face because I’m sitting behind him.

He gives her a brusque nod and then pulls away from the curb, heading toward Toronto. It’ll be about a half an hour drive, and I settle into the seat, exhaustion hanging heavy around my head. Cordelia does the same, her head tipping back against the seat, and her fingers link with mine. My eyes slowly drift shut as the sound of the vehicle’s engine rumbling beneath me, lulls me into a blanket of numbing darkness.

“Get out of the fucking seat.” I hear a deep voice break through my subconscious. Where the fuck am I? I look around and suddenly everything comes back, the Uber’s vehicle interior coming into focus.

“Get your hands off me!” Cordelia screams to my right, and I sit upright just as a masked man hauls her out of the seat.

“Cory!” I scream but it’s nowhere near as loud as hers and watch in shock as the guy slams his fist into her temple, effectively knocking her out.

I throw open my door, and the way is blocked by another body, also with a mask covering its face. My hair is grabbed, and my body is yanked out of the vehicle, my knees hitting the gravel on the road.

“Get her up and ready.” That same deep voice says as he rounds the vehicle.

“Where is Cory?” I yell and try to stand.

“Right here,” she’s slumped over his shoulder as he opens the back door and dumps her inside. That’s when I notice she’s bound, and her head is covered. “I told you to get her up.” He snaps at the second guy.

I’m grabbed by the hair again and dragged up to standing, my eyes never leaving where Cordelia is. Saxon’s words run through me just as I’m being slammed into the side of the SUV. Keep calm, look at my surroundings, and pick the perfect moment to attack. I take a few deep breaths as the guy at my back yanks my head back. The one who grabbed Cory appears in my vision and I can see the blue of his eyes, the outsides crinkling with mirth. I try to look for any familiarity, but don’t see it and he disappears out of my sight.

“Show me.” He growls and I try to look over my shoulder at him, only to get a fist to the cheek. It’s not hard but enough to make me see stars. My sweatpants are being yanked down and my heart is beating frantically in my chest.

No.

This can’t be happening and when I glance up, the sign for the University of Toronto campus looms overhead. I know where we are, it’s a service road behind the library for cafeteria deliveries.

That means…

Fuck. These are the University rapists, and I just became their next victim. Saxon is going to be so fucking pissed at me for letting this happen, and I have a moment of weakness as my pants are dropped to my knees.

“The fucking whore really has no panties on?” The gruff voice begins to chuckle. “He must’ve given it to her good last night, lesbian my fucking ass.”

He’s making his voice sound different, adding a husky layer that makes it sound garbled and distorted. I turn my head again, to get a better look at them, and a hand snares into my hair and my face is bouncing off the metal exterior. The pain rushes from my temple down to my jaw and I groan as a black fog threatens my vision.

“Don’t look at me, you little whore.” He snarls and fists my hair, the strands pulling from the scalp. “Get it done.”

He’s holding my hair, keeping me in place as his buddy spreads my legs. A sob is working its way up from my chest and I try my hardest to keep it down, I don’t want to be a weak little girl. I can still get out of this.

Something cool presses against my entrance and I’m momentarily shocked, a hum sounds from the guy as the object is pressed in further. No fucking way. They’re fucking people with dildos, and I wouldn’t have known without having one in me just a few hours earlier.

A loud thump comes from the back and my heart soars knowing it’s Cordelia waking up. Thank God she’s okay.

“Fuck,” the guy snarls, “hurry up, and make her bleed.”

There’s a distant low rumble and the penetration stops.

“Fuck.” He growls again, “someone is coming.”

The fist comes out of my hair and as soon as the pressure eases on my head, my elbow is snapping back behind me. It connects with the face at my back and then a high-pitched squeal makes me still in shock.

“You dumb lesbian whore.” A fist collides with my face again and my body drops, hitting the gravel road. My nose begins to flow with blood, and I know it’s broken.

I fight to stay conscious as my purse is thrown out of the car and lands at my feet.

“Make sure you call that boyfriend of yours and tell him what happened. I’m taking your girlfriend with me, though. Tell Saxon I’m waiting for him.”

“No.” It comes out weak as I get up to my hands and knees, my pants still down around them.

A large boot connects with my ribs, the kick sending me out to the middle of the road, and I land on my back, the wind knocked out of me. I’m staring up into the bright blue sky, the blaring sun right above me, heating my damp skin, and tears skate down to my hairline. They have Cory.

Not all is lost, though, when I hit the other guy behind me, I recognized the sound of their squeak. I know who it is.

They weren’t a guy at all.

Cordelia

The vehicle doors open, and slam shut, and two people start arguing. One man and one female. I don’t give away that I’m awake in hopes I can catch their names to give to the cops when I get out of here. I am getting out of here because I’ve survived much worse. It’s Amelia I’m worried about because I don’t hear her inside the vehicle with us.

“I told you this was a bad place to go!” The girl shouts. “We should’ve waited until night.”

“They called the Uber to leave the house, what choice did we have?” The man bellows.

“She broke my nose.” The girl whines, and I grin knowing Amelia at least got some damage in. I hope she got away from them.

“I gave her one to match. Now, shut the fuck up.”

He gave one to Amelia to match? I try to breathe through my anxiety and tell myself she’s strong and she’s smart. She’ll get herself to safety. I don’t know who these people are and what exactly they were looking for, but I can rest assured Saxon will find out and take care of it.

“What are we doing with her?” The girl continues, her voice sounding nasally, “we’ve never gone this far before.”

“I don’t know,” the guy exhales. “It was a last second decision. Maybe it’ll draw Saxon Greene out and I can get rid of him once and for all.”

“You did all this to get his attention, and for what?” She sneers, “what is it you have on him?”

“I know what Saxon Greene does for a living and it has nothing to do with his family’s car business.” He sounds smug, and something swirls in my gut.

“So you’ve said before, but it’s also my ass on the line if we’re caught. I deserve to know what it is you have on Saxon Greene.” She sounds like she has her nose plugged.

“Saxon Greene is a cold-blooded murderer, and his family covers for him.”

No.

This guy is full of shit. There’s no way my sister would ever be attached to a family who condones one of their own murdering people. That can’t be true, and I know Saxon, he isn’t a murderer.

A lot of people said that about Dexter, too.

No. Still, I can’t believe that. The vehicle is in a shocked silence as the girl absorbs the man’s confession. It’s a few minutes later when she huffs out a breath.

“How do you know?” She asks, “do you have proof?”

It’s another few minutes of silence and then I hear what sounds like a video in the small space. I can’t make out the words, but I do hear a few gasps here and there.

“I know this house,” the girl says, “it’s that meth house downtown. What the fuck were you doing there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he snaps.

“If you’re using again, I swear to God…”

“Shut up!” He roars and the vehicle falls silent again.

We stop and I wish I could see through the sack he put over my head. I can only see the light that seeps through the fabric, the sun is so strong today. The door opens and a rough pair of hands grab me, throwing me over his shoulder again.

“I still think we should have left her there with Amelia.” The girl whines.

“I love a good game of cat and mouse,” the man holding me says as he climbs a few stairs. “Saxon makes a fun mouse to play with.”

They open a door, and we enter a space, the light around me instantly disappearing. It smells musky and unclean, something close to a frat house. There are a few of them around campus, large houses the students rent and use for parties. I think I’m in one of those, not that it helps with so many around.

“I’m putting her upstairs in your room,” he says as we climb another set of stairs.

“Why?” The girl stomps her foot.

“Because I’m going to need you to watch her.”

“But my nose.” Her whining is so annoying, and I wish her voice wasn’t so nasally, she sounds familiar.

“Put some ice on it and shut the fuck up!” I can feel the vibrations of his scream through his back and into my chest.

She trudges off, the sound of her clunky boots hitting tile or wood, and we continue up the stairs.

“You know, Miss Edwards,” the fact that he knows my name has me stiffening, “I can tell you’re awake. I really wanted to frame you for those rapes. I wanted to make you prime suspect numero uno, but then you just had to be there to help that fucking girl.”

These two are the rapists? A guy and a girl?

I really didn’t see that coming. How the hell would he pin that on me? Although it was there briefly in Amelia’s eyes, she thought I was the one following her after she left my apartment.

I’m dumped on a bed, and I can smell this room is different, clean with a strong scent of perfume. I keep my mouth shut, not willing to talk to the people who want to kill my friends.

“Don’t worry, Cordelia,” he snickers, “if all fails with Saxon, I bet your sister would be willing to pay a hefty price for you.”

My mouth dries and my stomach drops.

How does he know all this?

Saxon

Raul is once again sitting across from Carmelo and I, only this time, he’s dressed appropriately. A Rolex adorns his thin wrist, and he has on two large platinum link chains hanging from his pathetic neck. His suit reeks of wealth and his shoes shine like he has a new pair to switch out each day. He found it imperative to stop playing that particular game. I hope he’s smart enough not to play another.

“Where is my son?” He’s trying to sit calmly and not portray the worry in his face, but I see it.

I hold up my hand, giving Trent the okay to bring Eduardo in. He’s been doing well here, eating well, and making friends. If I were to make a guess, he doesn’t want to go back to Mexico with his father. I hear the door open and a few moments later the shuffle of lazy feet. I hate when someone can’t be bothered to lift their fucking foot to take a step, that’s when you know they’re lazy to the fucking core.

Eduardo takes the seat next to mine, the choice making his father raise a brow, and lock his jaw.

“Son,” he says, his voice calm and even. “How have you been treated?”

“Well.” Eduardo says with a nod.

“Start talking, Raul.” I flick open my leather jacket and watch his eyes widen on the throwing knives strapped to my stomach. Carmelo’s eyes narrow on them, and I swallow down a chuckle, he never really accelerated in throwing knives.

“You were right in your assumption; Julio Ramirez is building an army to protect himself when he breaks away from the Greene/Torres rule.”

I can feel the heat of Carmelo’s stare on the side of my face, knowing this is now my predicament to steer.

“And?” I ask, there’s always more.

“He’s asking for an assassin to take out Black Slaughter.”

“Just one assassin?” I quirk a brow as Carmelo stifles a snort.

Raul looks from him to me and his brows crease in the center, “yes?”

“Odd,” I lean forward on the table, “Black Slaughter is an organization, not a person.”

“You are not Black Slaughter?” his eyes narrow on mine, and I can’t help but laugh.

“He’s Black Slaughter,” I point to Carmelo, “they’re Black Slaughter,” I motion to Trent and the guards standing at the door, and then lean back in, “weare Black Slaughter.”

He swallows noticeably and sits back in his seat, clearly realizing he’s been out of his element from the beginning. Loyalty to money is one thing, but his life takes precedence, and he’s starting to see how easily he could lose his, along with his son. I stand abruptly from my chair, the metal legs scraping along the cement floor.

“Looks like we’re going to be taking a trip to Mexico to pay my good friend Jules a visit.” I clap my hands, and Trent opens the doors, his voice firm into his phone. Calling the pilot, no doubt. “You guys might as well travel with me.” I tell Raul.

“It’s okay,” he waves his hand, “I had vacation plans.”

“I must insist, friend.” I give him a smile that must look sinister because his eyes slip to my hand that’s resting on his son’s shoulder.

Finally, he gives me a nod and slowly stands from his seat, I’ll have to watch my back with this one, he’ll have no problem stabbing it.

The plane touches down and I finally take my phone out of my pocket. I’m old school, I really don’t like using it while in the air, just a superstition but whatever. I power it up as the wheels bounce along the asphalt and my brows raise at the number of pings coming through.

When I open my messages, they’re all from Uncle Emmett, and my teeth ground together, wanting to see what he figured out from our security cameras. I don’t see anything from Amelia, so I guess she’s still stewing. Talking to him is impossible right now; I have this shit with Jules and the fucking mercenaries to concentrate on.

Once we’re off the plane, three blacked-out sedans are waiting for us on the tarmac, and I begin to see how nervous Raul looks.

“Everything okay?” I ask as the three of us get into the first car.

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” he demands, and I shrug my shoulders.

“You look a bit… unsettled.”

“Your face is a bit unsettling.” He retorts. I guess that makes sense, the Black Slaughter skull is a bit creepy.

I spin back around, facing the windshield while Eduardo and Raul sit in the back. This may seem like a vulnerable position to be in, but I never do things without thinking it through at every angle, multiple times. The trip from the airport to the Ramirez compound was strategically planned just as much as what’ll go down when we get there.

Trent is sitting in the car behind us with a few of the guards he handpicked, and even though Cat’s pregnant, she begged to come, probably thinking she could save her childhood friend’s life. Her words and appearance would have no bearing on my decision. It’s not about sentimental attachment, it’s about integrity and making sure my family remains safe. Trent convinced her to stay home, he convinced her to accept everything that happens today.

The twenty-seven-minute drive to Casa Ramirez is quiet, eerily so, and when I sneak peeks through the side-view mirror, I find Raul chewing the inside of his cheek. Nervous tics are the most fascinating for me because they differ drastically from person to person. I tend to pick up on them well, though. A bouncing knee, a clenching fist, or excessive blinking, all great tics, but chewing on your own flesh? That’s got to be a classification of cannibalism, right?

We get to the Ramirez gate, and I motion for Eduardo to get out and approach the camera. I slip down in the seat, and hear him talking to whomever is watching us. They can’t see me, and when the gate opens, Eduardo waves us in as he walks behind the car, just like we planned. I sit back up and find Raul staring out the back window, looking a bit confused.

“The thing I’ve noticed about having offspring,” I say quietly as the car stops in front of the Ramirez front door, “you need to continuously up your game.” I twist to look at him, “those same tactics your parents used on you, won’t work on your kids. Educate yourself about their generation, find out about the things that interest them, and create new tactics.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His eyes flash with anger and spittle flies from his mouth.

“I’m talking about the disdain your own son has for you, how much he hates the position you put him in, and your brutal lessons aren’t sitting well with him.” I steeple my fingers and watch as Eduardo slowly walks up the driveway. “Forcing obedience through fear is something long outdated, whipping, hitting, and humiliation doesn’t breed respect anymore.” I open my door and step out, bending in to look at Raul’s shocked face. “It breeds hatred.”

“Hatred?” he spits out.

“Yeah,” my lips lift slowly, “and do you know what hatred breeds?” I give him a moment and when he doesn’t answer, I nod, “I’ll tell you. It breeds disloyalty.”

I leave him with that thought and shut the door. Eduardo is waiting on the front porch for me, and I grin when his predictable father opens the car door and begins berating his son in Spanish. I stand back and study Eduardo’s face as his father comes closer, the yelling becoming louder and more ostentatious. He’s feeling the slip of his grip on the last strands of power he wields over his son.

“Shut up,” Eduardo growls, “we need to look united.”

Smart man.

Raul’s face falls in surprise as Jules opens the door, seeing Eduardo and his father first. I’m too far off to the side to be noticed without sticking his head out.

“Hey!” Jules exclaims, “my business partners have arrived just in time for lunch.” His words slur slightly.

Is he drunk?

The door opens wider and Eduardo steps inside, sending me a quick look. I give him a nod and grin when Raul throws me a disgusted scowl. I can’t wait to wipe that look off his face permanently. I quickly come up behind Raul as he enters the house, the large foyer not how I remember it. The last time I left here, I painted the place in blood, and helped Carmelo find his current wife.

I grab Raul by his hair and kick out his legs forcing him to his knees. He screams out in surprise and his hands come up to wrap around my wrist, trying to dislodge me.

The most comical thing right now? The absolute look of terror on Jules’ face. He looks around as his guards—or mercenaries—raise their weapons, all pointing at me.

“Did you think you could come here and attack us in my home?” Jules bellows as he laughs heartily. “Go ahead and shoot the fucker.” He screams and a few guns cock.

Eduardo raises his hand and looks around the room, “lower.” He says quietly but firmly. I won’t lie, for a split second there, I almost shit down my fucking leg.

“What?” Jules finally clues in and looks around nervously, swallowing forcibly.

Raul stops struggling and his body heaves with each breath he takes, “Eduardo, what have you done?”

One of the mercenaries steps forward, a mean looking motherfucker with scars marking his face and arms. “Eduardo is promising us better wages, healthier living arrangements, and security for our families. Something you laughed at in the past. We now answer to him.”

“Look at that,” I murmur, low enough for just Raul to hear, “looks like you bred some disloyalty.” He begins to struggle again as I force him up to his feet and throw him forward onto the tiled floor. “Jules,” I bark. “Looks like we have ourselves a problem.”

“No,” he laughs nervously, “there’s no problem.”

“You hired an army and an assassin to come for my family, I think that’s a big problem.”

“I didn’t do that-” he’s cut off by a screaming Raul.

“You did, you fuck! Now, you’re nothing but a blubbering idiot. I should have never trusted you. This isn’t cartel; this is a fucking carnival. Your father would be ashamed of you.”

Jules turns and starts to run, but this is a big fucking house, and I’m fast. I draw a knife from my belt and fling it across the room, satisfaction curling inside of me as it sinks into his shoulder. He hits the floor with a cry, his hand trying to reach for the knife, and his blood seeping through his silk Hawaiian shirt. With a hand still firmly tangled in Raul’s hair, I drag him with me over to a writhing Jules and kick out his legs again. Raul is kneeling between Jules’ legs as Jules pulls himself up to sitting.

“Saxon, listen-” he begins but he’s soon cut short when I slash my knife along Raul’s throat. The blood sprays out in a perfect arc, landing in a thick mist all over Jules’ face and exposed chest.

“See,” My breath comes out in a huff, and I drop a gurgling Raul on top of him, “I hate having to teach lessons. I’m not a fucking teacher, I’m an assassin, killing people I deem unfit for this world, not flying to Mexico on a whim because a little brat is misbehaving.”

Jules is not listening to a word I say as he stares down at a rapidly dying Raul, his face one of complete horror. I slap him hard, right across the face, and the blood sitting there provides a little extra sting.

“Why is it, these fuckers never pay attention to what I say?” I give an exasperated look to Eduardo.

You’d think he’d look sad, right? Maybe a bit put off by the fact that his father is now reduced to a corpse sitting in his own blood. But nope. He’s trying hard not to break out into laughter at the look on Jules’ bloodied face.

I turn back to Jules and see what’s so fucking funny. He’s pale underneath the sheen of red, and he’s shaking like a fucking leaf. He’s worried for his life and knows he has no one to turn to. The Cartel he runs has slowly begun to lose respect for him, and the people he hired to protect him are turning their backs. I can see the humour in it. Not that I’m fucking laughing. I don’t want to even be here, but yet again, some piece of shit tries to toe the line, and I get the messy job of throwing them all the way back.

His father was a hard, toughened crime lord, and his son was raised to be the same. Only Jules became soft, trusted too easily, and forgot every torture he endured as a child.

“Do we understand each other now, Jules?” I ask and nearly roll my eyes into the back of his head when he begins to nod his head profusely. “We already had this talk with you… what? Two years ago?”

“I just… got away with myself.” He blurts out with a grimace.

I grab him by the front of his blood-soaked shirt and haul him to his feet, dragging him over to Eduardo.

“What the fuck, man?” Eduardo jumps back just as liquid hits the tiles.

My eyes roll to the ceiling, and I take in an exaggerated breath, “did you just piss yourself? Big Cartel man?” I take a sniff and screw up my face, “you need to drink more water.”

“I got my lesson…” he mutters.

“Yes, that’s fine.” I coo, “but with every disobedience comes a consequence, and maybe a pack of diapers for the regression in potty training.” I pull my knife out of his shoulder, making him hiss with the pain, “I thought you were a stronger man than this, being tortured by your father at a young age and all. That’s what Cat told me, anyway.”

“They all grow soft when they’re cushioned with guards in their mansions.” Eduardo retorts.

“Sounds legit.” I nod. “So, Jules, I have a new proposition for you since the old one didn’t seem to be a great fit. You are now second in command to the Ramirez Cartel, with Eduardo now in charge. Anything he says goes, and Jules?” I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I told him to kill you without a second thought if need be.”

Jules nods, and I release him, shoving his pissed covered body away from me. He looks around, his face heating with embarrassment and then quickly turns on his heel, heading to the back of the house.

“Keep an eye on him,” Eduardo nods to the scary fucker from earlier. We watch him walk after Jules, and I twist to reach out a hand.

“Anything you need, call me.”

“You’re a force, man.” He laughs and shakes his head, grasping my hand in his. “When you came up with this plan, I really didn’t think we could pull it off.”

“You did good.” He was very obedient. Then I turn to the door just as my phone begins to buzz. I find Trent and the others waiting outside and swipe open a call from my uncle.

“Hell-”

“Do you not read your fucking messages?” He cuts my greeting off with a nasty growl.

“Sorry, I was busy murdering people from New York to Mexico.” I snark as Trent chuckles.

“Saxon, you need to get back here now,” the frantic sound of his voice has me stopping mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Amelia and Cordelia,” he says, his words becoming garbled as he speaks quickly. “One’s in the hospital and the other is missing.”

I jump into the nearest sedan and bark at the driver, “get to the tarmac now!”