Saxon’s Distortion by C.A. Rene

Amelia

I hear the hospital room door open, and still keep my eyes to the ceiling, not wanting to see the face of yet another nurse. I’m sore, tired, and in complete and utter shock. I’ve been here for almost thirty-six hours and the useless police are still no closer to finding Cordelia, even after telling them everything I know. It’s hard to keep it together when I don’t even know if she’s still alive or not.

I had a mental break about twelve hours into my admittance and I’ve been forced into psychological watch, apparently, they’re worried about self-harm.

The shoes hitting the linoleum floor sound heavier than usual, but I don’t move. My eyes remain firm on the ceiling tiles, a few of them yellowing in the corners from God knows what. It’s only when a hand slips under mine that I finally blink and turn my head to find Saxon looking down at me.

“Are you real this time?” My voice breaks from the dryness of my throat.

“Girl, I realize this face is too gorgeous to be real, but yeah, it’s me.”

It is him.

I can’t hold back, every fear, and every bit of pain floods my insides, all rushing out in a strangled string of sobs. He’s had to watch me cry now multiple times and I always try to be mindful of how uncomfortable it makes him; I just can’t help it. I’m worried about my girlfriend, my life has been turned upside down, and I’m being surveyed to find out if I’m crazy or not.

“I need to know everything, Amelia,” he squeezes my hand, “every single detail starting from my house to here. It’s the only way I can find her and bring her back.”

“The Uber who picked us up,” I begin, recounting the same story I told his uncle and three other officers, “he was the rapist. He must’ve been the one following us and leaving those messages because he knew I was at your house. He knew I ordered an Uber.”

“He would have to be registered as an Uber driver to get that information.” He says as he types away on his phone. “Go on.”

“We were driving to Cordelia’s, and we both passed out.” I suck in a sob, “I was so stupid, Saxon. I took your one rule of staying alert and watching my surroundings and threw it out the window.”

“Yes, that wasn’t the brightest, Melly.” He says, his voice sounding a bit disappointed, “continue.”

“The next thing I know, the driver has a ski mask over his face and he’s hauling Cordelia out of the car.”

“You didn’t catch what he looked like getting in?” He lifts a brow.

“I was upset at the time, and got in behind him.”

“Okay,” he nods, “hair colour?”

“Brown, dark brown. But he was wearing a hat.”

“Go on.” He’s typing furiously into his phone.

“I’m yanked out on my side as well-”

“Wait,” he cuts me off, “there were two people there? But only one when you were picked up?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“So, the second person would have been there waiting, like a rendezvous.” He snaps his fingers and continues typing, “which road?”

“The University service lane.” I croak out, and he chuckles.

“Smart and stupid.” He shakes his head, “I could probably pull some surveillance of the area that day, maybe get to see who it was heading to that lane.”

“No need.” I shake my head.

“What?”

“I know who it was, and told your uncle as much, they still can’t locate the bitch.” I snap, my fingers tightening around his.

“I will locate them; give me a name, Amelia.”

“Did you not talk to your uncle?” I give him a quizzical look.

“No, I came straight here,” he huffs, “name.”

That means something right? The fact that he came straight here to me before anyone else?

“Veronica Hanes.”

“Riley Hanes' little sister?” He sounds stiff, like a piece of puzzle is snapping together in his head, “Riley, Ivy’s ex-girlfriend.” Not a question this time.

“Yes.” I nod and try to work out what his facial expression means. “Saxon, what is it?”

He holds up a finger and steps to the end of the bed, punching his finger into his phone. He puts it to his ear, and I can see his jaw working in frustration.

“I know where Cordelia is,” he says into the phone and my chest collapses with relief, “check out dorm building 2A on the university’s campus.” My mouth drops and I stare at him in shock. That’s my dorm building. “Get over there now, second floor, room nine.” He hangs up and gives my shocked face a nod.

“Saxon, why do you think Cordelia is in my dorm building?”

“I followed Jack there one night, on a wild goose chase, set up by a very intelligent person, someone who knew I suspected him, and used it to their advantage.” His fingers scrape against the overgrowth on his chin. “I found Jack dead on the floor in your room but not until after I heard a female commotion on the second floor.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t recognize her, but her face was oddly familiar. It has been years since I’ve seen her, and I’m really fucking pissed my brain didn’t put it together. I saw Veronica Hanes in the dorm that night, with a large bruise on her face, and was scared to death.”

“She must’ve been playing you,” I sneer. “She’s been helping the rapist this whole time. The reason there’s no DNA is because Veronica is the one defiling girls, with sex toys.”

“I would’ve never guessed it,” He chews his lip. He walks to the door and gives me a look, “I’m going to go make sure Cordelia is safe, and then I’m coming back here.”

“I need you to come back, Saxon.” My chin wobbles with emotion, “we need to talk.”

“I agree.” He nods and then he disappears out the door.

Cordelia

I’m in a dorm room with a deranged female.

She’s happy one minute, telling me about the love of her life, and then the next she’s sobbing on the end of her bed, asking why he makes her do these terrible things to other women. She has two blossoming bruises under both eyes from Amelia’s breaking her nose, but there’s another large older bruise that covers her left eye, all the way to the brow line.

She told me it was because she messed up a rape a few weeks ago, foiling his plans for his next victim, and he punched her in the face. But she’s adamant she deserved it and I have to agree with her, just for different reasons. How can she sleep at night knowing she’s traumatized other women? Defiling them in the worst way and stripping them of their dignities? I feel no sympathy for a woman who has zero respect for how hard we need to fight to be equal, how hard we fight to be able to wear what we want, speak how we want, and not be judged as whores. How dare she join the ranks of men that like to strip a woman of her sense of self and remind us just how much more we have to work.

I’m no stranger to the vile nature of men, the thick oozing blackness that sits in each of them, and once it's stirred, they become monsters. Men have ruled for centuries, and the superiority runs rich in their genes. All boys have the potential to grow up wrong, to have something that switches on at any point in their development and activates that blackness. I’ve seen its dark depths peering into me from their eyes as they forced themselves over me time and time again, taking what they wanted and leaving me a shell of who I was.

“Do you need to use the washroom, Miss Edwards?” She asks as she steps out of the shower. Her bleached hair hangs in damp sections over her shoulders and down her back.

That’s another weird thing, she goes through extreme emotions and personalities. One moment she’s ranting and raving, calling me every disrespectful name in the book, and the next, she’s smiling and sweet, referring to me as ‘Miss Edwards’.

“Yes,” I nod. Escape is impossible, I tried to run off on my first washroom visit, only to have her taser me before I got to the door. With my own taser I tried to turn onto her boyfriend when he yanked me out of the car. I soiled myself and writhed on the floor in pain as she stood over me, cackling like a fucking lunatic. Running is no longer an option since she clutches the thing to her chest constantly.

She unhooks the other side of the cuff from the bed rail, and guides me to the washroom, the taser firmly pressed against my back. Once inside, I close the door on her face and lean against the counter. These dorms are the perfect place to hold a hostage. There’s only one window in the small spaces, and nothing else. The washroom is an enclosed box with one exit. I’m really trapped here, and I can’t see how I’ll be found. It’s daunting and soul crushing. I don’t know what their plans are for me and to be honest, I don’t think this girl knows either.

She hasn’t told me her name, but I’ve heard her being screamed at through the phone, the guy calling her ‘Ron’. She keeps demanding to know what to do with me, and during each call he tells her to wait for things to cool down. I want to know where Amelia is, I need to know she’s okay, and this Ron is not giving me any answers. I don’t even care about myself, as long as she’s fine, I can endure anything.

“Hurry up,” she taps on the door, “I have pizza coming.”

I groan and my stomach twists, she has ordered pizza twice already. Pineapple and spinach with extra cheese. It’s vile, just like her. I use the toilet and wash my hands, opening the door to find her pressing her ear to the main door, her eyes looking frantic.

“What is it?” Fear blooms in my chest, is he back?

“I heard a weird noise.” She whispers. “He knows where I’ve been staying.”

“Yeah, obviously.” I roll my eyes, “he’s been dropping off pizza all day.”

“Not the delivery guy,” she hisses, her chest moving rapidly with fear. “Saxon knows where I’m staying, he found me here before.”

My heart begins to beat with elation, if Saxon knows she’s here, maybe he’ll figure it all out, and I can get out of here, back to Amelia.

“I warned him,” she grits out, “but he never listens to me.”

“Men rarely do,” I huff, finally seeing an angle that could work. “They think we’re weak, easily controlled. Using us is their ultimate pleasure.”

“Yes,” her eyes widen, “you understand. I just want to be his everything, and want him to love me. So, I do all these bad things. But he’ll never see me as his partner, only his toy to use whenever he needs it.”

“You deserve so much more.” I nod, and she nods along with me.

“Yes,” her hands become fists. “I do.”

“This man of yours, he doesn’t know what he has,” I sit on the bed. “You need to give him an ultimatum.”

“Brian would never agree to that.” She realizes her mistake after she makes it, and her eyes widen in fear. “Fuck! You’re going to have to die now, he’s going to kill you.”

“No,” I hold out my hands, “not if we help each other. I promise to help you, Ron.”

“Don’t call me that,” she spits, “he’s the only one who does, and I hate it. My name is Veronica.”

“Okay, Veronica.” I nod, swallowing through my anxiety. “I can help you; I’ll get you away from him and you’ll never be used again.”

“Saxon will kill me,” she whispers, “you heard Brian, he’s a serial killer.” Yeah, I did hear him, and will be asking about that if I ever get out of here.

“I think you need help, not only from Brian, but from yourself. I don’t think you’re past redemption.”

“Really?” Her eyes glisten with tears. “I want to get away from him-”

She’s cut off by the door being kicked in, wood splinters fly everywhere, and the door hangs off one hinge. We both scream as we stare into the eyes of a demon. Only I know its name.

Saxon Greene stands in the doorway, half his face is painted in an intricate skull design, and his eyes look manic. He holds a pizza box up in the air and his mouth stretches into a psychotic looking grin.

“This pizza smells like a fucking zoo animal.” His nose crinkles, and the makeup moves with it, “what did you order? A gorilla ass with extra cheese?”

He’s psychotic, there’s no other explanation. What is he doing here, alone and dressed up for Halloween? His eyes meet mine and he gives me a once over, assessing me for injuries I would assume. But where are the police?

Veronica whips out her trusty taser, just the sight of it makes me cringe, and she aims it at Saxon. I’ve barely blinked in the time it takes him to grab a small knife from around his waist and to throw it at the small device in her hand, knocking it to the ground and nicking her skin.

“Bad girl,” he chastises and then looks at the now opened pizza box on the floor, “my bad.”

He darts forward and grabs Veronica by the hair, dragging her to the bed. He looks livid and terrifying. I look at the open door, deciding if I should make a break for it, and find Amelia before any of these crazy people do.

“Librarian, I see you’re scared but I’m here to help you, not kill you. My uncle is downstairs waiting for you, Veronica and I need to have a chat.”

He’s a serial killer.

That must be code word for torture and kill.

“What do you have on your face?” My voice shakes with uncertainty.

“Costume makeup, the special kind they use on movie sets. Your sister orders it for me.” His makeup moves as he winks.

“Why do you wear that? Why are you here without the police? Where do you go for days? Why are you strapped with knives?”

“Librarian,” he sits on the bed, still holding Veronica’s head into the mattress as she tries to get away. “Do you not want to get out of here? To go see Amelia?”

“She comes with me.” I blurt and jump to my feet, “she’s done terrible things, but her boyfriend is the real perpetrator.”

“Downstairs, Cordelia.” He yanks on her hair some more and she whimpers, her scared eyes searching mine.

“No, Saxon-”

“You can't save everyone who’s evil.” His eyes turn on me and pity stares back at me, “you should know that.”

“I do.” I nod, “but she’s not evil, she’s mentally unstable.”

Kind of like himself.

“She seemed happy enough to participate.” He grips her head.

“Her boyfriend was beating her.” I say quickly as he reaches for another knife, “his name is Brian!”

“Is it?” His eyes light up and he presses his mouth to Veronica’s ear, “is it Brian Cox by chance?”

She nods and whispers, “he hates you.”

“I know.” He stands up, looking extremely excited and claps his hands. “That’s all I needed to know. Now, Librarian, you can take your new friend downstairs to my Uncle Emmett’s car, and he’s taking you both to the hospital.”

“I just want to see Amelia,” I protest.

“She’s there as well,” he nods, “broken nose and broken ribs, courtesy of your new friend here.”

He releases her and she rushes to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Like she wasn’t just holding me hostage here for days. I guide her out the door, and Saxon stops us.

“Cordelia, why do you have blood on your back?”

“I was tasered.” I answer nonchalantly and tighten my hold on Veronica, fearing he’ll grab her again.

“Tasered?” He hoots out a laugh, “I’m starting to see a trend with your choice of friends, Librarian. You like them unhinged and dangerous.”

“So am I, Saxon.” I throw over my shoulder, making him laugh again.

After being checked over and the doctor says I’m perfectly fine, luckily the taser hit me on either side of my spine. They took Veronica immediately into observation and I learned from Emmett that’s where Amelia is as well. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to see her, but Emmett pulled some strings.

I’m standing outside her door, my stomach twisting with nerves, and sweat collecting on my brow. I’m not nervous about seeing her, I can’t wait to see her. It’s about having to tell her about Saxon. Will she hate me for it? This will break her heart, I know it.

With a deep breath, I push open her door, and find her sitting up in bed, holding a long piece of paper in her hands. She doesn’t notice me at first, and I take the moment to drink her in. She also has two black eyes, similar to Veronica’s, and her nose is plastered. But she’s still beautiful, she still takes my breath away. Her finger runs along the paper’s surface and a tear rolls down her cheek then drips off her jaw.

I feel like I’m interrupting a private moment.

Just when I’m about to turn to leave, her head pops up, and her auburn eyes meet mine.

“Cory?” her mouth is open in shock.

“Looks like having a friend like Saxon comes in handy.” I open my arms. “He found me.” Even though he’s a deranged psycho killer.

“I knew he would find you.” She smiles, but it’s sad. “I’d get up to hug you, but I have three fractured ribs, and it hurts.”

I rush to her bedside and take her hand, looking into her sad eyes. “Tell me what happened.” My voice hitches with emotion, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“They almost did it,” she whispers, “what they did to those other girls, but I hit Veronica.”

“You know it’s her?”

“Yeah, I heard her voice and recognized it.” She nods, and I swell with pride. She’s so brave.

“You saved my life, I’m sure if Brian came back, he would’ve killed me.”

“Brian?” Her eyes blink in surprise, “Brian Cox?”

“Yes, I think that was the name Saxon said.”

“Oh no,” she breathes, “Saxon will go to him, and Brian is unhinged.” She winces as she tries to get out of bed.

Saxon is unhinged.

“Saxon can look after himself,” I grip her arms and hold her still, “you need to heal.”

“But Brian is crazy,” her breathing becomes erratic, “he’ll try to kill him.”

“Honey,” I chuckle, “so is Saxon.”

“I can’t have anything happen to him.” She grips my hands.

“He’s not helpless, Amelia. He’s not who you think he is.” I don’t want to go into detail while she’s clearly distressed.

“What happened?” Her eyes are wide.

“I saw a side of Saxon tonight and it wasn’t anything I have ever witnessed before in my life.”

“Cory, I told you he was different but when it comes to Brian, there’s something inside of him that goes off the rails. And now that he knows Brian attacked me…” She chokes on a heavy sob.

“I told his uncle about Brian on the way here,” I try to placate her, “he’s going to go find him.”

I help her back up on the bed and look down at that long strip of paper, shock coursing through me. My eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of my skull and my head begins to throb. This can’t be what I think it is.

“I was kicked pretty hard in the ribs, and the force of it had me tumbling onto the road.” She takes a deep breath and holds my hand. “I was given an x-ray, but they found something.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” I try to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“I was given an ultrasound, to confirm that everything was okay.” She sniffs and I finally tear my eyes from the strip of black and white photos. “I haven’t told him yet.”

How can I tell her the father is a serial killer?

“And everything is okay? With it?” my finger brushes the glossy finish.

“Yes,” she hiccups, “I can’t keep it, Cory.”

“What?” I give her a confused look.

“I don’t want to have children yet, if ever. I’m not even done with school; I want to travel. I understand those things sound selfish, but I am, I’m selfish. I shouldn’t have children.”

“It’s your decision,” I squeeze her hand, “but I do agree you should let Saxon know.”

I settle in the chair next to her bed, and she begs me to tell her every detail about my ordeal with Veronica. So, I do, leaving out Saxon and his sinister face paint. I do it to keep my mind from floating back to those black and white photos, to push back the fear that I could lose her, and to stop my own quaking insides.

I have never wanted children, not after everything I had been through, and that still hasn't changed.

Saxon

My phone rings again and I huff picking it up, “you are being so annoying.”

“Saxon,” Uncle Emmett says into the speaker, “Cordelia told me it’s Brian, you should let the police deal with this one.”

“No can do.”

I hang up, only to have my phone going off again. It’s my father, now I know Uncle Emmett called in the big guns. He’s on vacation with Mom, and I really didn’t want to have them worry and fly back.

“Sun’s out, guns out?” I say, picking up the phone and relaxing when he chuckles.

“You know it,” he takes a deep breath, “your mother’s buns are out, too.”

“Ew, Dad, what the fuck?”

He laughs again and then falls silent, “do we need to come back, son? Your uncle called your mom and she’s adamant we should come back. We know the history you have with this guy. Maybe letting the police handle it is the best way.”

“He was raping girls, Dad. Mom wouldn’t be letting the police handle it, regardless of the history.”

“I want to make sure you’re in the right mind space. I thought we could have a little talk.” I hear water rushing around him, he must be walking along the beach.

“Okay.”

“I know what that fucker did to you, how he tormented you during your younger school years, and then the beating in high school. I saw you drawing more and more inside yourself, and it broke my heart. I want your assurance that you’re thinking with your head and not with your hatred.” He gives a slight pause, “I want to hear you say it, Saxon, especially because of what happened to Amelia.”

Amelia.

She was hunted by him because he saw how close we were getting, he wanted her to be filled with fear, and overcome with terror. He followed her, wrote cryptic messages she would see, and then he tried to hurt her. All to get to me.

“I’m angry.” I admit, “livid actually, but see this as my job. Yes, it might get messier than usual, and most definitely I will torture him, but I can’t let the police have this one.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He snorts, “You’re me in appearance, but your insides are Torres. I used to fear that, and was scared of what you could become.”

“Because of Mom’s dad?”

“Yeah, and her brothers. Your Uncle Emmett is tame these days, but him and your mother Black Slaughtered the hell out of New York in their day. It was a pastime for him. Seeing you with his fucking knives,” he pauses, “just freaked me out at first. Your Uncle Carm was also a bit unhinged and loved pushing his power around, even though he was a good man, even when he was lost and confused. But the Torres blood carries a need for violence.”

“Yeah.” I agree. I already know all this.

“But what I’m not saying is what the Greene blood contributes.” He takes a deep breath, like this next part is painful for him. “My father was evil; he was fucking vile. The things he did to women, to your grandmother, to your Uncle Travis. You also have his blood, and I think that scares me more than the Torres one. I don’t want you to lose yourself in the lust of it.”

“I know, Dad.” Mom drilled it into my head that this is nothing but a job, but I’ve seen how her eyes lighten and her energy hits the roof during each hit. I get what he means about lusting for a kill. I am lusting for Brian’s blood, but he’s the first to draw out such a visceral reaction from me.

I care about my job, about making the world a little safer with each kill, and feel justified in my work. I’m a serial killer through and through, but I do it to protect the general public. This kill though, Brian Cox’s death, is like the cherry on top of my ice cream sundae.

“I want you to come out of this still being the son I know; I don’t want to have to strip away the layers to reach your core again. I don’t want to lose you to this piece of shit. To me, it’s not worth it.”

His words would bring either one of my sisters to tears, that’s a normal human reaction, but all I hear is him being worried about working through my defences. I know he loves me and everything he’s saying is from his heart, I appreciate it. As his only son, I’ve never lacked in his affection or care.

“Dad, please understand something about me and I don’t mean to sound obstinate. I don’t feel things like the rest of the family. I’m not like Ivy, condensing feelings inside. I’m not like Dahlia, looking at everyone like she can save them with her need to nurture. I just want to be the best version of myself for each of you, I want to do what I’ve been asked to the best of my abilities. I want to be the son you and Mom are proud of, the brother Ivy and Dahlia can come to for anything, and I want to make myself proud each day. I cannot let this piece of shit go.”

“Then I will trust you to make the right decisions, because out of all my children, you are the one who weighs all consequences before you act. But, promise me,” I can hear him swallow through the line, “promise me, this kill won’t change you.”

I can’t lie to my father; I can’t tell him something I don’t know the answer to. I keep the phone to my ear, the sound of his breathing mixed with the ocean’s surf, and contemplate. He gives me the time I need, knowing I’d never dare lie to him, and I close my eyes, letting every scenario play out. At the end of each one, it’s making Amelia no longer a victim, I hate that she’s been reduced to that.

I open my eyes and stare at the Cox household. No lights on but I do see the black SUV sitting in the driveway. I wonder if he knows about Veronica yet. I told Uncle Emmett to hold off the media, but I wonder if he’s tried to contact her.

“I realize what Amelia means to you, and I understand what killing him would do to rectify what he’s done, but would she appreciate it?”

His words sink into my head, and I pause my thoughts. Yes, Amelia deserves closure.

“I’m not killing him tonight,” I tell him and start the car. “I will put further thought into it, and Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Thank you.” He’s always been the one to grab me when I’m sinking.

“I love you.” He says and hangs up the phone.

“You, too.” I say and drop my phone into the cup holder.

It’s time to have a conversation with Amelia.

She’s asleep when I enter her room and her girlfriend is curled up on the chair beside her bed. I’m glad she’s here because we’re a team. I wouldn’t want to have this conversation without Cordelia, and to be completely honest, I’m ready for them both to know exactly who I am.

I stand at the end of her bed and watch her sleep, something settling the anger inside me at knowing she’s safe. I would do anything to ensure she remains that way. I know she’s looking for certain things from me and finding me lacking, but I can provide a balance with the love that comes from Cordelia. I can be her protector, the person she comes to when she needs to let her fears loose, the one to soothe her. I can be the one to promise her a good life, free of threats, and protect her and Cordelia both. I want to do all of it.

It’s as if she senses me, like our connection surpasses consciousness and her eyes flutter open, slowly focusing on me.

“Sax?” her sleep filled voice puts a smile on my face.

“Hey.”

“Is everything okay?” She struggles to sit up, and I round the bed to help her. Cordelia begins to stir in her seat, and when her eyes open, it’s like icy orbs glowing in the dim light of the room.

“I was hoping we could have a talk. I don’t like how things were left at my house, and we need to talk about Brian.”

“Yeah,” she gives me a nervous look, “I have to talk to you about something, too.”

I sit on the side of her bed and watch as Cordelia sits up, cracking her neck. “Hi, Saxon.” She gives me a small smile. I see her restraint though, and understand why. Seeing me the way she did must’ve been unnerving.

“How’s your new friend?” I smirk.

“I don’t really know.” She shrugs, “but thank you for not killing her.”

“Killing her?” Amelia looks at me with confusion.

“I actually came here to talk to you about that.” Nerves attack my insides, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s all about showing the side of myself only my family knows about. “Brian Cox.”

“Veronica and Brian were talking about you and saying you are a serial killer.” Cordelia cuts in.

“I guess… by definition I am.” Both women gasp, and I fight hard to hold in the eye roll. “I am an assassin. I don’t kill for no reason. Just the people who the system would otherwise let go. Where evidence is circumstantial even if it is overwhelming.”

“You’re an assassin?” Amelia sounds on the verge of tears.

“I kill people who hurt children, people who rape women, and people who sell both in the sex trade. All the people the system turns a blind eye toward.”

“Oh.” Amelia’s eyebrows curl together. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“I do.” Cordelia grabs her hand, “I think taking another’s life is disgusting. We’re not gods and we can’t just decide who’s worthy of living or not. But on the other hand, as a person who comes from such abuse, I thank you. I was always afraid to go to the police about the Canonites, they had so much power and I was just one little girl. Knowing there’s someone out there eliminating these predators one by one, makes me feel better.”

Amelia looks down to their clasped hands and then back to me, “you don’t just kill random people.”

“Random assholes only.” I shrug.

“I don’t know if I can ever wrap my mind around that.” She’s being honest.

“After what Brian did to you, do you think he deserves jail time?”

“Of course,” she growls.

“Okay,” I nod, “there’s no physical evidence against him. As of right now, he will walk free. There’s more evidence against his deranged girlfriend. Knowing that, how do you feel?”

“I feel scared. If he’s back on the streets, I won’t be able to live.” Her chin trembles. “He could come for me again.”

“Right,” I nod. “I prevent that. I help children and people live their lives without constantly looking over their shoulders.”

“I get it.” She looks at Cordelia, “I understand your reasons.”

“I want to kill Brian,” I pause to wait for her reaction, “but I want you there with me.”

“Me?” she squeaks, “why?”

“I think you could hold me back from the deepest depths of my hatred.” I give her my honest answer. “You can make sure I kill him and leave it behind me like I do all the others.”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“I do.” Her and I both look at Cordelia, “I think you would benefit from watching that piece of shit die.” Cordelia’s words not only shock me, but I can see they shock Amelia as well.

“Saxon,” Amelia grabs my hand, “I have to tell you something, too.”

“Okay,” I’m preparing to hear her say she’s done with me. That being with me is too hard, I’m not relationship material, and I wouldn’t disagree with any of it.

“When I got here, I was given an x-ray for my broken ribs. The doctors found something abnormal.”

“Abnormal how?”

Her hand lands on her flat stomach and I can’t look away, “I’m pregnant.”

“How?” I ask, finally raising my eyes to hers. “You said you were on birth control.”

“It’s not one hundred percent.” Cordelia adds.

“Learning what you did about me just now,” I try to sound reasonable, “would you want to raise a child around that?”

“No.” she says, and I’m suddenly relieved, even if the guilt is overwhelming. The fact that we got pregnant on birth control and my own sister can’t do it normally is a fucking asshole move on life’s part.

“So, what are our options?” I ask.

“Abortion or adoption.” Cordelia says.

We all fall silent, the room feeling heavy with all our confessions hanging over our heads, and I wait for the answer only Amelia can give.

“I don’t know.” Tears roll down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be a mother.”

“And you don’t want to be a murderer.” I add.

“No.” She shakes her head. “What are you thinking?”

“I hate myself for this happening so easily and yet your brother and my sister can’t seem to make it happen for themselves.”

“Wait,” Cordelia sits up, her eyes wide with a realization. “Oh my God.” Her hand covers her mouth. “That’s the answer. Your brother and sister are the same DNA of this baby. They were considering adoption anyway, right?”

“Would that work?” Amelia looks at me, and I can’t even answer as I try to process the words Cordelia just said.

Ivy would want the baby, without a doubt, and Neil would do anything to make her happy. But could I live with that? Could Amelia live with that? We would see the child regularly, every family get together, all holidays, and we would watch it grow, knowing it was ours and yet, not really. Could that work?

“I would be able to rest knowing it was with a loving family.” Amelia says, cutting into my thoughts. There’s that as well. It would be with a family who would treasure it.

“It’s your decision,” I declare, “and whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

“How about this?” She says with a smile, “I’ll come with you to end Brian, if you are there to help me hand our child over to the best possible family for it?”

“We’ll both be there.” I reach my hand out to Cordelia to complete the circle. “You call Ivy though; I can’t deal with her crying.”

Amelia snorts and nods, “fine.”