Stockholm Syndrome (9 page)

“Then won’t you help me?”

Edna shook her head. “Me an’ George spoke to Mason last
night, and he told us everything that happened. It’s a real shocker, and I’m
not saying he’s innocent, but obviously it’s not a simple situation. We’re real
sorry for both’a youse, but we’re gonna let Mason sort out this mess his way.”
Behind her, George nodded his agreement.

“You’re committing a crime, Edna. Do you realize that? You
could go to prison for this.” Evelyn blinked back tears of despair.

Edna hung her head. “I love that boy like a son,” she
whispered. “I owe him everything.” She looked up, and Evelyn saw she was crying
too, but she kept speaking, her voice growing stronger with conviction. “Mason
is the best man I know. He has a fine character. This’ll be eating him alive.
He’ll find a way to put it right no matter what it costs him.”

“It’s not something that money can fix.”

“I wasn’t talking ’bout money, sweetie, though he’s got
enough of that to fix a lot of hurt. He’ll find a way. There’s never been a
problem he can’t solve. Just give him time to figure it out.”

Evelyn sighed. This was hopeless. She’d do better to make
friends with the woman. At least she might learn more about Mason. “Then you’d
better sit down and eat some of this food with me, Edna. And while we’re
eating, you can explain to me why you think the sun shines out of Mason’s ass.”

Edna looked taken aback for a moment then burst into shaky
laughter. She exchanged a glance with George, who retreated into the hall,
closing the door and locking them in together. She sat on the side of the bed
and helped herself to a bran muffin, which she slathered with jam and grated
cheese.

“It’s quite a tale, actually,” she said, “and neither George
nor me’s ever told anybody before. But we know all about youse now, so I guess
I don’t mind.”

Evelyn started on her eggs and bacon, waiting for the other
woman to continue.

“Mason bought this place ’bout ten years ago. ’Round that
time, my George had just been let go from his job. He was a shift supervisor on
the mines, and earned a pretty good wage, but they had redundancies, and his
whole team was ’mongst those they let go. He was a bit old to go starting over
at a new mine and we had some savings, so we bought the property next door
here. We thought we’d have a go at a bit of farming.”

She finished her muffin and reached absently for a bowl of
yogurt, which she held but didn’t eat. Evelyn could see that she was lost deep
in her memories.

“It was a lot harder than we thought. In the first year, so
many things went wrong we used up all our money. We worked damn hard but we
didn’t know what we were doing. Looked like we were gonna lose the farm, and we
didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was ’round ’bout that time when George
started hitting me.”

Evelyn gasped. “He hit you? Oh no, Edna, I’m so sorry! You
can stop if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I’ve started now, so ya may’s well hear it. One night
he laid into me pretty badly, and Mason heard us. He’d been out with a sick
horse in one of the paddocks near our side, and I guess he heard me screaming.
So the next thing we knew, he burst in our front door and he knocked George
clean out. Broke his nose. Then the next night he came back again, but I was
ready for him. I had a wooden fence post, and I told him I’d kill him if he
laid another finger on George.”

By this time Evelyn had also stopped eating. Although
horrified by Edna’s story, the thought of her threatening Mason with a fence
post was absurd.

“What did he do?” she whispered.

“He laughed at me. Then he said he’d come back to find out
if I still wanted to be with George, and I told him of course I did!”

“You wanted to stay with him even though he beat you?”

“Don’t ya judge me, missy! Ya wait ’til you’re my age and
you’ve learned a thing or two ’bout life. I love George and he loves me. He’d
never raised a hand to me in all the years I knew him before. He was just
breaking his heart over the farm and the money, and he didn’t know what to do.
That’s what I told Mason that night too.”

“But, Edna, you’re a victim. There’s no excuse for what he
did. You don’t have to stay with him. I know you’ve never told anybody about
this, but I know what to do. My job is helping people like you. There are
places you can go—”

Edna cut her off with a snort. “There ya go judging again.
I’m no victim. That was a decade ago, and he’s never laid a finger on me since.
That man spends every wakin’ minute trying to make it up to me for what he
done, even though I forgave him years ago.”

“But—”

“There’s no
buts
. He’s not gonna do it again.” She
leaned forward and fixed Evelyn with a glare. “I know what people say, but
sometimes a man makes a mistake. A terrible mistake, maybe, but still a
mistake. An’ if he’s a good man, when he realizes what he’s done, he’s sorry
right through his guts, and he’ll never, ever do it again. Then ya gotta
decide. Do ya throw it all away, his life and yours, or do you give him another
chance? Sure, I could’a left George. Would’a enjoyed it, paying him back for
the hurt he caused. But where would I be now? In some old-age home somewhere?
Or living in the back room in my daughter’s house, being a burden on her
family? Instead I’m living in paradise here, in a big house with air
conditioning, and I got somebody to sit with me when I’m lonely and hold my
hand when I’m scared.”

She put the untouched yogurt back on the tray, and with a
small smile said, “So ya wanna know what Mason did then? He offered George a
job, and the cottage to stay in, and we’ve been here ever since. He bought our
farm after that. Said he wanted more space to ride his horses ’bout. Paid fair
market price for it, so we could settle all our debts. Pretty soon he hired me
too, to keep house for him. George and me wouldn’t leave him for anything. He’s
family to us now.”

Evelyn didn’t know what to say. Edna’s story certainly
explained her loyalty to Mason.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said at last. “I guess I can
understand why you want to help him.”

“Yeah, he’s a good man too. You’ll see.”

Edna left shortly after, taking the tray and all the dirty
dishes and banging on the door to summon George.

“I’ll be back later with your lunch, sweetie.”

Evelyn flopped back on the bed. “Oh Edna, you were my last
hope,” she murmured.

She’d have to resort to desperate measures.

Thirty-six hours ago she’d been happily involved in her
studies and her job, and looking forward to her trip to Africa. Then she’d
taken an ill-advised walk in the dark, and here she was.

All that mattered was escape. A feeling of terrible shame
and self-recrimination had grown in her mind for hours. She had, in the end, been
weak, given in to a mere physical impulse, and look where that had landed her.
But she knew one thing for certain—if she could save herself, she’d regain her
tattered self-respect. She might be confused about the sex, but the kidnapping
was inexcusable. The desire to take back control of her own life was
overwhelmingly desperate. She would do
anything
to make it happen.

She would make Mason believe she was in love with him. Only
then could she convince him that she would never, ever, go to the police,
because her hatred had changed to love, and only then would he let her go. It would
not be an easy task—the man was no fool—but she thought she knew a way.

***

Mason arrived home just after three that afternoon. He
wondered if Evelyn was listening for the crunch of gravel and the purring of
the Range Rover’s engine. Would she be waiting to see him? Would she be angry
after a day cooped up in her room?

George and Edna helped unload and stack the shopping on the
kitchen counter within a few minutes, but he didn’t go directly to Evelyn’s
room. It was another hot day. Nestled in the valley of the mighty Fitzroy River
and surrounded by sweeping hills, Rockhampton sweltered in the relentless spring
sunshine. He was sweaty and tired, and needed to clean up before engaging in
the next round of verbal fencing with his unwilling guest.

He marched to the master suite, taking several shopping bags
containing his personal items with him. He walked past his private study,
through his theater room, into the cool shadows of his bedroom where he dropped
the bags on the bed. Then he proceeded straight into the bathroom. Flipping on
the shower tap, he shed his clothes into the laundry basket and stepped under
the cold stream of water with a sigh of enjoyment.

He was impatient to get to Evelyn, so he made quick work of
the shampooing and scrubbing down, but when he gripped his cock in his soapy
fist, he paused. It was already firm and throbbing, and it occurred to him that
if he jerked off now, he could save himself a lot of the discomfort that an
evening with Evelyn was bound to cause.

He tightened his grip and began to pump his distended flesh,
throwing his head back as the pleasure coursed through him. With his other
hand, he cupped his balls, squeezing and tugging, while his fist worked his
cock like a piston.

He imagined it was Evelyn’s hand on his heated length. Her
hands were much smaller than his, and not nearly as strong. She wouldn’t
squeeze him so hard. For a moment he loosened his hold, trying to imitate what
he imagined her touch would feel like. He envisioned her slim fingers wrapped
around him—not all the way, since she’d never be able to close her grip over
his girth. But if she used two hands… He moaned, arching his back.

What thoughts would go through her mind when she grasped his
full arousal, measured his length and width in her hands, in anticipation of
him driving it into her body?

He could bear it no longer. Urgent heat built behind his
cock, and with a guttural shout he came in mighty spasms that left him
trembling and spent, sprawled against the cold tiles of the shower wall.

When the weakness faded from his legs, he finished his
shower quickly and dressed in old frayed denim jeans and a gray t-shirt. His
hair was beyond help, but he combed it away from his face as best he could.
Damn, he should have gotten a haircut in Rockhampton—it was driving him crazy!

By four o’clock he was ready to go to Evelyn. She was sure
to be furious with him for making her wait, but it was worth it. He felt like a
new man after his shower, and was ready to deal with whatever drama she threw
at him.

He knocked on her door and unlocked it when she called to
him to come in. Opening the door wide, he was just in time to see her stand up
from the bed and move into a long, full-body stretch. He stared, incredulous,
at her. She wore the shortest pair of hot pants he’d ever had the pleasure of
seeing on a woman. They were olive green and frayed around the legs, and she’d paired
them with a skimpy pinkish vest. And damn him, she wasn’t wearing a bra either!
The stretchy little vest was hugging and molding her big tits like a second
skin. He couldn’t quite see her nipples, but nothing else was left to his
imagination. And when she stretched her arms up, arching her back like a little
cat, that vest lifted right away from the waistband of her shorts, and gave him
an eyeful of her lean, silky stomach and belly button.

The problem that he thought he’d attended to in the shower throbbed
resoundingly back to life.

“Hi, Evelyn.”

“Hello, Mason.” She sounded sleepy and a little husky. There
was no way he could stay and have a conversation with her in the bedroom. With
a bed. Right there.

“Would you like to walk up to the stables with me? I haven’t
seen my horses since I got back.”

She looked surprised. “Okay. Let me put my shoes on.”

She bent over to tie up her trainers, this time with her
back to him. He couldn’t peel his eyes off her ass. Those damn shorts rode up
as she bent, and the lower curves of her ass cheeks peeped out. If she was
wearing any panties, they had to be the tiniest of thongs.

“All done, let’s go.”

He led her through the house and out of the kitchen door. It
was a beautiful afternoon, and soon there would be a spectacular sunset.

They walked side by side down the road. He wondered why he’d
asked her to come with him to the stables, when he could have suggested a dozen
other options. His time with his horses was sacred, and he treasured the
moments that he spent alone in their peaceful and undemanding company.

“Do you know how to ride, Evelyn?”

“No. I’ve never even been on a horse. Well, maybe I have
when I was a kid. You know, at fairs and things. But I can’t remember.”

“Would you like to learn?

“Yes, I really would!” She looked excited. “There are some
adventure holidays I’ve been wanting to go on where you do the whole thing on
horseback, but you have to be quite a good rider, and you have to know how to
look after your own horse. It would be great to learn!”

“I’ll teach you then.”

“Thank you.”

They passed George and Edna’s place.

“Wow, I’d hardly call that a cottage! It’s definitely a
house!” exclaimed Evelyn.

“Yeah. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms,” said Mason,
waving to George and Edna, who appeared on their veranda.

“Have you never been tempted to rent it out, make some money
from it?”

“No. I could, but then what would become of Edna and George?
Besides, I like my privacy. I wouldn’t want any strangers living so close to
me.”

As they drew near to the stables, the road sloped downward,
and a pastoral vista opened before them, of white-fenced paddocks spread out in
neat blocks over the hills.

“Is that all yours?” asked Evelyn.

“Yes, all the way to that valley on the right.” She looked
where he pointed. It was some distance away.

“How many horses do you have?”

“It varies. At the moment there are twenty-three, but five
of those are foals that I have sold. They’ll be leaving for their new homes
when they’re weaned.”