Rites of Spring

Chapter 2-3

And why had Cameron thought he’d seen fangs, or extra body hair?

He closed his eyes and tried to find focus. He knew perfectly well why he imagined monsters where there were only people. It was his mother’s gift to him, bestowed over a decade and a half, and no matter what he told himself to make things better, he would probably never really get over it. The bigger question was why Cameron had let Jason goad him into violence so easily.

That whole scenario could have gone so much differently for him. If the cops had gotten there when he’d been hitting Jason, they’d have seen a brown-skinned guy hitting a white guy and drawn their own conclusions. It might be nice to think that they’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’d learned very young that his skin didn’t do him any favors with authority. It would have all been sorted out eventually, but only after he’d been dragged down to jail and left the house unprotected for at least twenty-four hours. Had that been the con men’s’ plan all along? And where had the other one been, Reid?

The thing was, Cameron wasn’t usually a violent guy. He’d always rather solve problems with reason and words instead of fists. What was it about Jason that made him dig in his heels and say, “That’s not going to work here?”

And what was it about this house, about him, that drew Jason and Reid here anyway? It was an old house, sure, but it wasn’t an upscale house. If they’d peeked in the windows they’d have seen a few electronics but nothing spectacular, nothing that they couldn’t get by stealing things from someone nearby who wasn’t calling the cops on them or punching them in the face. The fact that they’d fixated on him, specifically, chilled him.

The question kept him awake long into the night.