Saxon’s Distortion by C.A. Rene
Saxon
I sip my coffee as students rush around the University campus like ants. Last year I had zero desire to be one of them and this year is pretty much the same. Becoming an ant has never been appealing and following rules is foreign to me. Look, as long as I’m in control, and not hurting innocent people, then good stuff. Laws are a government’s way of controlling the ants and most of the time humans are happy as pigs in shit to be an ant.
Wait, there’s a lot of metaphors in there.
Yeah, I don’t care.
Like pigs in shit to be ants. Sounds right to me.
I’m out of the car and sipping my coffee, waiting for the one person I know who attends this university. My back is against my car, my foot on the wheel of hers, and I patiently wait because I’ve got all day really. Sleep is elusive, and sometimes it takes a day or two for me to feel the exhaustion, right before I crash.
When was the last time I slept?
The coffee cup is sitting against my lip while my mind works to remember the last time I crawled between my black satin sheets. Yeah, I said satin, and they’re fucking divine.
“Sax?”
I take a sip of the coffee and turn to look into the warmest pair of brown eyes. It’s like chestnut and mahogany mixed with flecks of gold encased with a rim of black. Her eyes have always intrigued me.
“Amelia.” I smirk and push off my car. “I was in the neighbourhood.”
“You heard about the attacks,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, did my brother send you?”
“Neil?” I’m aghast as I look at her, “he’s too busy tasting wedding cakes with my sister. Last I heard it’s going to be red velvet and rum.”
“I don’t think that's a thing, Sax.” She snorts.
“It’s Ivy, she’ll make it a thing.”
“So, what are you doing here?” she narrows her eyes.
“I did hear about the shit happening and wanted to see what you knew.”
“That’s it?” she opens her car door, “you weren't worried about me?”
“You’re a big girl, Amelia.” I roll my eyes.
She chuckles and throws her bag inside. “Thanks Sax, I can always count on you to give it to me straight.” With a quirk of my brow, my patience wears thin, and she continues, “the two girls attacked were leaving the library at closing. Same time, two different girls, and on two different nights.”
“Do they have a description circulating on campus?”
“It’s vague,” she crosses her arms. “All black clothing, black hoodie, and wearing a black mouth covering.”
“Eyes were uncovered? Any details on those?”
“Ah, no.” She bites into her lip, “he ah… takes them from behind.”
“Fuck, that’s smart.” I snap my fingers.
“It’s disgusting, Saxon.”
“But smart in his tactic,” just pointing out the facts, “he’s a rapist, of course it’s disgusting, obviously.” I wave her protests off, “we need to pull out facts about the guy instead of focusing on the victim, am I making sense? What’s done is done, Melly.”
“Yeah, I know.” She exhales.
“So, he’s smart, he’s cunning, and he’s targeting an area of the University obviously lacking security and cameras. Correct?”
“Yes,” she nods, and her eyes widen. “You’re good at this.”
“It’s called intelligence.”
“No, it’s how you detach your feelings from logic.” She throws back.
I shrug, “Anyways, who was at the library both nights? Who works there?”
“There’s one lady who closes on the weeknights. I doubt she’s the rapist.” Her tone becomes defensive, and her eyes harden.
“I was more wondering if the person got a description of anyone suspicious hanging around those nights.” My brow raises at her reaction, and she forces her face back to normal, but I already caught the feelings permeating through.
“She’s working tonight,” she huffs and slides into her car. “The cops have already interviewed her, and she’s pretty shaken up.”
“You know her personally?” I grin.
“We’re friends.” She rolls her eyes but the slight drop in her voice and her eyes blinking slowly doesn’t escape my scrutiny. All signs of longing.
Amelia was once in love with my sister Ivy and when she found out Ivy was more interested in her brother; I watched her heart break as if in slow motion. No one else saw her depression but then again, not many are as observant as I am. Watching people’s reactions and emotional outbursts are interesting. The only one I’m acquainted with is extreme anger and when that arises, blackouts happen. Hours become lost inside my anger and the memories are always grainy and coated in red.
“I’m going to talk to Uncle Emmett and see what he has to say,” I tell her and turn to unlock my car, “How much you want to bet he’s happy the twins ended up at Ryerson University?”
“First off,” she chuckles, “Sonja would kick anyone’s ass and Samuel would take bets on the winner.”
“True.” I chuckle with her. The twins are a bit unstable but most of the Greenes are. Save for Dahlia—my little sister—she is sweet and calm.
I get into the car and nod to Amelia, pulling out of my parking spot. I head in the direction of Whitsborough because thinking of Dahlia has me longing for her serenity. She’s been my ground from the moment she was born. Her soul grasps onto mine and somehow forces humanity into me. It’s the only time I feel.
“Saxon?” Dahlia calls from the kitchen when I close the front door. She knows it’s me because we all have an app on our phone which alerts us to any visitors.
“Hey.” I call out while heading toward the sound of her voice and groan when the aroma of chili blankets my nose. Dahlia makes a killer chili.
“Come taste this.” She grins at me and holds out a spoon, “Uncle Emmett and the family are coming for dinner.”
My moan is exaggerated as the flavour hits my tongue, “that’s good.”
“I know,” she shrugs with a giggle. “How was work today?”
“Fine,” I turn and sit at the table.
Dahlia thinks I work with Mom and Dad at Legendary Wheels driving around and looking for rare vehicles to acquire. I would rather keep up the ruse because her pure soul couldn’t handle the truth.
“The twins and Gabe are coming, too.” She snickers when my breath comes out in a huff. “They’re not so bad.”
“Gabe is fine,” I roll my eyes, “the twins make me twitchy.”
“That doesn’t take much.”
“True,” I grab an apple from the fruit bowl on our mahogany wood table and bite into the crisp flesh, “how’s school?”
Dahlia just started high school this year and like the rest of us, she’s attending Precious Blood Academy.
“It’s okay,” she looks over her shoulder, “I’d be bored if it wasn’t for Gabe.”
Gabriel is in his final year at Precious Blood and thankfully he’s been keeping an eye out on Dahlia. As sweet as she is, she’s a bit of a loner, and has attracted the attention of assholes. After finding out she was being picked on, I was ready to march down there and get into those kids' faces. That feeling of being left out and deemed different by your peers, I didn’t want that for her. But Gabe reminded me, I have a lifelong restraining order with the fucking place, and he would take care of it.
He has been, I can’t complain. Dahlia looks happier and says she’s being left alone. I don’t know Gabe’s tactics at controlling the high school pieces of shit, but I do know his personality. He’s a playboy through and through, he loves the ladies. He’s also a popular jock and baseball is his thing. There’s just something about sticks and balls that get men so worked up, it’s weird.
“Don’t worry, Sax.” She sits beside me, “I’m fine.”
“You’d tell me differently though, right?”
“Yes.” Her tone stays level, and her pupils don’t dilate; she’s telling the truth.
“Okay.”
Our phones ping simultaneously, and we both look down, seeing Uncle Emmett’s cruiser pull through the gates. He’s probably early because I texted him about needing info on the University Rapist. Since one of the victims lives in Whitsborough, his department has been brought in on the investigation.
“Darn!” Dahlia exclaims and stands, “everyone will be here soon, I should get started on homework. Will you watch the chili? It’s on low.”
“Sure.” I nod and watch her run off.
Dahlia works the hardest out of all of us to get good grades, she’s not stupid by any means, just slower to grasp the details.
The front door opens and Uncle Emmett strides in. He’s looking older these days with grey at his temples and throughout the scruff on his face, but his eyes still twinkle with mischief. He and Mom are identical twins and it’s still startling to see a smirk they share or a certain look in their eyes. He sits across from me and grabs an apple as well, taking a large bite.
“That’s a nice bowl,” he stares at the fruit bowl in the center of the table.
“I got it from Walmart,” I nod, “saw it in someone’s house and decided to torture them until they told me where they bought it.”
“Seriously?” He pauses the apple in front of his mouth.
“Maybe,” I wink.
“Something smells like Heaven.” He inhales as he chews.
“Dahlia is making you and your heathens dinner.” I retort, and he laughs.
“Perfect description… heathens.” He nods. “You were at the university today?”
“Yeah,” my teeth crunch into another bite of the apple, “I spoke to Amelia. Tell me more about this.”
“That’s the thing,” he huffs, “we have next to nothing, no DNA in or around the victims.”
“Condoms were used?”
“Yeah, that’s the likeliest conclusion. Cameras in that area are shotty at best which means-”
“It’s most likely someone who goes there.” I finish his sentence.
“Yeah. They would have to know about the camera angles and to be honest it narrows the pool down a bit. Kids that frequent the library or even security itself.”
“I was going to say that,” I nod, “did you interview the security?”
“Yeah,” his hand wipes down his face, “they seem clean, but you know as well as I do, the cleaner they look-”
“The filthier the insides.”
We both sit in silence as we crunch into our apples and slip into deep thought. It would seem the most logical explanation is it’s someone in security and even better, whoever is security and appointed to the library.
“How many guards are on at night?”
“Three every night.” He answers and I nod.
“Are any of them assigned to the library more than others?”
“Nope, it’s all an equal rotation.” He leans forward, “you sure you don’t want to be a cop?”
“You sure you’re not dipping into evidence? You seem cracked out.”
He sits back with a laugh, “it was worth a try. Samuel and Sonja will most likely be behind bars instead of in front, and Gabe will be a baseball star.”
“Sounds accurate.” I snort.
“Does your interest mean you’ll be helping out?”
“There’s a rapist running wild at a university where a friend is attending, I’ll kill him as soon as I find out who he is.” I take the last bite of the apple and set the core on the table.
“Amelia?” Uncle Emmett begins to grin. “Ember owes me fifty bucks; I knew you were into girls.”
“I don’t even know where to start with any of that,” my nose crinkles with a shake of my head, “Amelia is a friend, and did you and Mom bet on my sexuality?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “we couldn’t figure it out.”
“I’m not anything,” my shoulders lift. “If something catches my eye, I pursue it. But it’s fucking weird you’re betting on my dick with Mom.”
“What the fuck?” His head rears back, “I don’t care about your dick.” A grin plays around his mouth.
“You’re caring about when and where I stick it.”
“I’ll tell her to give you the fifty,” he mutters and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sweet.” I chuckle. “Anything new from Jules and the Cartel?”
“Nothing,” he scratches at his beard, “things have been quiet.”
“Not good.”
“Catalina is looking into it.” He looks off, deep in thought again.
My family never rests, there’s always someone or something that needs watching, and we’ve taken it upon ourselves to become a family of vigilantes. My cousin Carmelo and my good friend Cameron are both in a relationship with an ex-Cartel Princess, Catalina Delgado. Her father happens to be my mom’s right-hand man at the New York compound.
When the Cartel was causing problems for my family, we flew to Mexico, and we put a Band-Aid on the problem. But it’s nearing the time we took care of the situation completely. It’s on my list but it keeps getting pushed down as new shit arises, this job is exhausting.
“I need more hours in a day,” A large yawn nearly threatens to black me out. Looks like I’ll be crashing soon.
“We’re here to help if you need it.” Uncle Emmett looks at me with worry.
“Nah, I’m good. Plus, you’re old and move slower.” He whips his apple core at me, and I catch it before it hits my face, “see?” I tease as he grumbles.
