The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (122 page)

“You are my master and I must behave.”

He eyed me sceptically. “And will you behave?” he asked dubiously.

I frowned in fake bewilderment. “Of course, Sir. There’s nowhere for me to go, Sir. I promise to behave,” I lied but held his gaze. My heart sped and my hands poured with sweat as he sighed and dug the key out of his pocket.

Calm Ava, keep it together!

I stood still and rolled my wrist, relishing the looseness and freedom. Dane watched me like a hawk as he stripped but I stood still, biding my time, needing the perfect time. “In,” he barked, nodding his head towards the shower and I stood against the opposite wall of the shower head.

Breathe Ava, breathe slowly and calmly.

He joined me, stood opposite me and his eyes perused my filthy body. “Yes, I think you do need this, you dirty cunt.” I nodded as he stepped towards me. “You really are stunning Ava,” he breathed in my ear as his mouth started licking the skin behind my ear.

I swallowed the nausea away and placed my hands in his hair, feigning intimacy. “Oh you feel good,” I forced out and he chuckled.

“I knew you’d come round Ava, I always knew you wanted me not that fucking bastard. I can do so much more for you, Ava. I can give you the roughness and hardness you crave.”

I stroked his hair and pushed my body into his as though I wanted him. I needed my fury now, needed it to bubble inside, needed it to take over but I couldn’t find it, it had been gone for so long.

Katie, help me Hun, find it for me.

I brought the visions of her horrified face to mind as she burned in front of me, I forced the torturous screams into my ears, remembered her scorching flesh in my nostrils.

There it was; the tiny spark bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

YES!! COME ON!

Dane was now licking across my collarbone and I pushed that little bit further into him, needing to get him back another inch. “Mmmm,” I murmured as I called on my rage, brought it up, forcing it to surge through my veins.

I closed my eyes and welcomed it. My breathing steadied, the white calm enveloped me and I fed from it, devoured it. “YES!” I growled but not at Dane’s actions.

I could feel it surging to life, filling me and embracing me, powering me and eating away at the fear in me, fortifying me. My fingers tightened in his hair. I opened my eyes and focused on what I needed to do.

I inhaled deeply and gripped his hair. “Oh Dane,” I breathed. The pure ice and malevolence in my voice caused him to frown and lift his eyes to mine. I smiled at him, the malice evident in my eyes.

I gripped his hair harder, and then pulling at my strength I slammed his head into the tiles. I screamed in rage and did it again.

His hands came to my throat but I was too far gone to feel them. I smashed his head again and again, my rage powering me. I pulled at the shower head and ploughed it into his skull, over and over. Blood splattered everywhere.

“Ava?” Greg shouted.

I yelled and bashed him again as he crumpled to the floor. I kicked him in the face, one last act of revenge as I dashed out to Greg.

“Shit Ava, are you okay?” Greg asked, his eyes wide at my appearance. I frowned but nodded. “You’re covered in blood, Ava” he said as I skidded to his feet and frantically untied the ropes around his ankles.

“Quick Greg,” I cried and scooted round to his hands, pulling and tugging at the ropes and thankful to god for making the knots big enough to undo.

He wriggled out of the last part. “We need to hurry Greg, I don’t know how long he’ll be out.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head and handed it to me. I slipped it on as we raced through the door and skidded down the stairs.

We both looked around wildly for a door out. I flung up my hands in frustration. “Fuck, where’s the door?” I yelled and Greg shouted to me from another room.

I shot towards his voice and found him in a kitchen, yanking at a door. He slammed his body against it when it wouldn’t open. He tried again and it wouldn’t budge. I joined him, my rage was still flying through me and my power shattered the door.

He stilled and stared at me wide eyed, shocked at the sheer force I had. “Go!” I yelled at him as I looked around madly for a familiar location. We were in a back garden behind a rundown house with boarded up windows.

I grabbed Greg’s hand and pulled him along a path at the side of the house. “Come on,” I cried and we emerged on a residential street.

We raced a few houses down and ran up a path and banged furiously on the door. “Come on,” I yelled as I scanned the street behind me, “Come on.”

The door swung open and a middle aged man stood in the doorway, uncertainty and shock on his face.

“Please help us!” I begged, still manically looking around but he just stared at me. “Please. I’ve been held hostage for nine days and I need to phone the police from your phone, please,” I pleaded.

His confused eyes swept over my body and he sucked his lips, debating if I was a serial killer.

I cried out in frustration. Greg swore and pushed past the man, entering the house and pulling me behind him. “Lock the door!” I shouted to the man as Greg hunted round for a phone.

He held it up to me when he found one and I observed the man, making sure he locked the door. “Lock the back door,” I demanded. He nodded rapidly, obviously thinking we were now holding him hostage.

“Police or Mason?” Greg asked quickly and I didn’t hesitate.

“Police,” I answered. He paused but nodded.

“Okay,” he said as he dialled.

I stood to the side of the front window, scanning the street for any sign of Dane. I breathed a sigh of relief as Greg connected with the police and informed them of our situation.

I sobbed and crumpled to the ground as I heard the sirens approach. I closed my eyes in pure relief that I would soon be with my man, the man that I needed so badly.

CHAPTER 3

“FOR FUCKS SAKE! Will someone please phone my Fiancé?” I shouted at one of the female police officers situated in the hospital room with me. I had been prodded, probed, photographed and examined a million times and my patience had snapped.

“Miss Stone, I really need you to answer some questions first,” the snotty policewoman said severely. I glared at her, a proper ‘Fuck with me and you’ll pay bitch’ stare.

“Listen love, I have been tied to a fucking chain, whipped, beaten, raped and fucking scorched to within an inch of my life for nine long fucking days and right now all I want, all I fucking need . . . IS MY FUCKING FIANCE!”

She sighed and bit her lip. “Name?” she asked in resignation and I exhaled heavily.

“Thank you,” I breathed. “Mason Fox, you need to tell him Greg is safe too.”

She tipped her head. “Mason Fox is your Fiancé?”

“Yes!” I puffed and winced as the nurse applied more lotion to my back and the police woman stepped outside the room.

“Fuck!” I hissed and she patted my arm, unbelievably the nurse treating me was Teresa, the nurse who had helped me recover after Dane had raped me last time.

“Oh Ava, sweetie.” She stroked my arm and I closed my eyes.

“Please don’t Teresa, any sympathy and I’m likely to fall apart right now.” She sucked in a breath but nodded as she came around the front of me and started to clean my front wounds. Her face was pained and sombre as she gently swiped at my burns, welts and cuts. Her eyes kept shooting to mine, care and pity reflected in them but I shook my head marginally at her.

She smiled and continued her treatment. “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered. She reached her hand across me and grabbed a paper bowl from the unit and held it under my chin. I vomited into it as she stroked back my hair.

“You’re okay Sweetie, I’ve got you,” she soothed as a sob escaped.

I heard her gulp back her own sob and I raised tear filled eyes to hers. “No.” I shook my head at her distress as she held my eyes. “No, I am not going to cry. Don’t let me cry,” I hissed.

Teresa turned around, hiding her tears from me as I sucked in a breath and pulled back my shoulders.

I would not cry, I would not cry.

The police woman entered the room. “He’s on his way,” she said softly. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded; a complete change of behaviour and I frowned at her. “He cried,” she said hoarsely as though she knew why I pondered her emotional change.

I nodded. “He . . . he will have been frantic,” I choked out.

She smiled warmly. “Yes,” she stated simply.

“Any news on Dane?” I asked her but she shook her head. The police had stormed the house after I explained what happened but Dane had already gone.

Teresa helped me into a gown after she’d finished tending to the wounds all over me, and I winced as it brushed over my charred flesh. She handed me some painkillers and a cup of water. I swallowed them down and she handed me some more, I eyed them sceptically.

“They’re antibiotics for your wounds, just to make sure they don’t get infected,” she explained. I nodded and swallowed them down as the door flung open and my man stood immobile and wide eyed.

My breath hitched at the sight of him and my body roared to life. The hairs on my arms reached out to him, my blood flowed rapidly through my veins making my heart beat intensely and my breathing deepened and quickened.

His eyes held mine and I was shocked at the pain, torture and desolation that flashed through them. “I . . . I . . .” He seemed to be struggling to breathe and I held out my hand to him. He shook his head rapidly “I . . . I can’t . . .” He reared back, turned and ran.

Teresa and the police woman stared at me as I stared at the empty doorway.

What the hell?

Devastation coursed through me and I stumbled onto the bed, swallowing my nausea and distress. “He’s just in shock, Ava,” Teresa said softly as she took my hand and sat beside me.

I turned slowly to look at her. “But . . . but . . . I need him . . .”

She tipped her head in pity. “Sweetie, give him time. He’ll be feeling all sorts of different emotions that he can’t cope with; relief, guilt, anger and pain. He’ll be back, I promise.”

“I want my babies,” I whispered and turned to the police woman. I should have really caught her name but everything had happened so fast when the police had arrived at the good citizens house.

She smiled softly and nodded. “Who do I need to call?”

“Courtney Williams,” I mumbled, still stunned at Mason’s reaction.

Did he hate me, think it was my fault? Did he think I was the whore he had so expressively told me I wasn’t? Did he think I was dirty and filthy and couldn’t even look at me anymore? Was he high and didn’t want me to discover it?

A mass of thoughts raced through my head but the one that slammed to the forefront was hurt, oh that had hurt. His face as he looked at me, the way he shook his head in disgust at me . . . that fucking hurt, in fact it hurt me more than the fucking sear of the poker.

* * *

The door opened and Courtney stood and gazed at me. A sob broke free and then a scream as she crumpled to the floor. I climbed off the bed and went over to her, clambered down beside her and pulled her to me, disregarding the searing pains that were shooting through me as she grabbed me tightly and pulled me further into her like she wanted to be inside me.

My own tears flowed as we both sobbed and wept and cried together, grateful for each other in those moments. Our love as best friends, binding us together in need as we rocked each other in grief, comfort and ultimate relief.

She eventually pulled back and palmed my face. “Oh, babe,” she breathed as her fingers touched every piece of skin, my eyes, my cheeks, my chin, my ears and finally my hair. “You fucking stink.” I chuckled, then I laughed and then I was howling hysterically. She giggled alongside me. I suddenly stopped and stared at her and then I started shaking, uncontrollable trembles that racked my body. An anguished cry broke free and I just stared at her.

“Oh, Ava,” she sobbed and pulled me in tight again. “I love you babe, so, so much Ava. I was so scared, so fucking terrified I would never see you again,” she cried and I realised that she had been in pain as much as me, the unknown was a terrifying thing and it tore at your soul.

“I’m here Courtney, I’m here,” I whispered and she nodded against me. “Did you bring them? Katie and George?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Kerrie has them, I’ll go get them,” she said as we climbed off the floor.

She left the room and I went into my private bathroom and pulled off some toilet paper, blowing my nose noisily.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror and gasped at the woman looking back at me; she was thin, gaunt and pale. A couple of cuts marred my face and my lips were ravaged, sore and scabby. I had a black eye and my hair was dull, lifeless and mangled with dirt. I wasn’t sure my babies should see me like this but I was desperate to hold them.

I walked back into the room and stumbled over to the bed as Kerrie and Courtney held each of my children. I swallowed and let out a relieved sob as I sucked in my lips, wiped my eyes and held out my hands.

They had just started smiling properly, great big gummy grins when I had been taken and as their little eyes found mine they rewarded me with the most wonderful, happy grin each and it boosted me, it was as if they knew exactly what I needed.

They were placed in my arms and I immediately buried my nose in their soft hair, first Katie’s stunning copper curls and the George’s soft brown wisps. I sighed in relief as my body instantly relaxed into them.

They both gurgled at me. “I’m sorry peanuts, Mummy stinks.” Their hands reached for my mouth and I sucked on each of their little fingers, relishing the touch, smell and taste of them. “My beautiful babies,” I whispered in their ears and kissed their faces, lots and lots of tiny soft kisses. I couldn’t get close enough, be near enough and love them enough. “My babies.”

I really thought I would never see them again and that had torn me apart on those long dark nights, the nights when I would lay awake and picture them in their Daddy’s arms as he nuzzled them and laughed at their shocked expressions as his growth had tickled and tortured them.