The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (62 page)

George came in and walked over to me, standing in front of me glaring. “Ava, I know you’re hurting but I swear to god, do that again and you will have me to answer to.”

I bit my lip, not wanting to feel George’s wrath and turned my head to stare through the window, ignoring them both. Mason rubbed his temples and turned to George. “Forget it George, she’s not willing to listen.” He shrugged, picked up his car keys from the table and left, slamming the door behind him.

My lips turned up in a sly smile. “Well that worked. He’ll probably go and fuck Rebecca now,” I laughed. George’s hand shot out and slapped me, straight across the cheek. My hand shot up to my face and I stared at him, absolutely stunned.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry Princess, I shouldn’t have done that, but nothing is getting through to you,” he apologised.

I stood up, the pain inside outweighing the pain in my cheek. Tears threatened my eyes, George had never raised his hand to me before and the overwhelming hurt from it broke me. I walked into the hallway, slipped on my pumps and slammed the door behind me.

I walked for what seemed like hours, aimlessly wandering, not caring where I was going or ending up. I sat on the bench in the local park, staring at the children playing happily on the swings, wondering if my child would have liked the park, would they have squealed when I pushed them high or screamed on the roundabout, would it have had Mason’s eyes and brown hair or my copper curls?

It had started to rain and I relished in its refreshment, tilting my head back and closing my eyes as the heavens opened and the torrential storm battered at my face and body, the rain drops mingling with my tears as I sobbed and sobbed, my knees held tight to my body as I howled.

I was suddenly walking again, my legs leading my body as they carried me onwards in a haze; the rain still beating my poor body, my aching and broken body. They didn’t stop until I found myself on Mason’s doorstep, pounding on his front door.

It flung open and Mason’s relieved face stared at me. He looked like shit. “Ava, where the hell have you been? George is going out of his mind,” he cried.

I raised my head, penetrating his eyes as he struggled for breath at the sight of me. “Jesus, Ava,” he wheezed. Reaching out, he picked me up and took me in, kicked the door shut and carried me over to the sofa, gently placing me on it as I just silently continued to look at him, my eyes never leaving his.

He crouched in front of me. “Ava,” he breathed as I tilted my head, regarding him intensely.

My hands reached out and pushed him so he fell backwards onto his backside, his face full of shock. I stood up as he scrambled to his feet and I pushed him again but he stood firm. “Come on Ava.” He was breathing heavy, his eyes boring into mine. “Come on,” he repeated.

I pushed him full force and when he stood firm I punched him, swinging my fist into his chin. He still stood silent for a moment. “Hit me, baby” he growled between a breath. I stood still, looking at him through narrowed eyes. “I SAID FUCKING HIT ME!!!” he yelled.

I punched him again, his head moved slightly but he grit his teeth and stood there goading me. “Not bad, what else you got?” he probed, raising his eyebrows at me.

I pulled back and slammed it into his cheek full force. This time his head snapped sideways and his stance wobbled. He pierced me with his stare again, “Better, Ava” he snarled.

I was now panting as the fury rose; the anger in my face told him what was coming and he braced himself. “FUCKING HIT ME AVA, HIT ME!” I screamed at him, my fist slamming into his chest and stomach as he held himself. “Good girl. Come on!” he spurred as my ferocity broke free and both of my fists struck him, beating him uncontrollably as he stood his ground and took it, every punch, every pound and every fucking piece of hatred.

“That’s it, baby” he whispered as my punches eased to let the devastation and grief through. My legs buckled and his arms shot out to catch me. “I’ve got you,” he whispered into my ear, as we both sunk to the ground.

His strong arms wrapped me up and he pulled me onto his lap as I fell apart, clinging to him and screaming for the loss of our baby, for what Dane had done to me and for all the heartbreak that Mason was feeling.

“Shush Ava. I’m so sorry,” he breathed as his own tears fell free and we both wept together, holding each other for a long time.

“George hit me,” I revealed quietly after a while. Mason stiffened.

“I know, he told me.”

“I deserved it.”

He rose to his feet. “Talking of George, I better let him know where you are,” he said as he entered the kitchen to ring George.

I clambered up and went upstairs. I entered the bedroom and stood there, silently staring at the bed; the place where my baby died. Mason had changed the sheets, now a deep blue quilt donned the bed. I sat on the edge and pulled the duvet back, revealing a crisp white sheet.

I stared at the spot where I could see the large blood stain through the opacity of the white sheet. A pink splodge was now all that was left of my child and I placed my hand gently over it, my fingers curling into the sheet as I curled up beside it.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have told him, I shouldn’t have told him you were there, snuggled inside me. You didn’t deserve to die, I’m so sorry.”

A tear slid free and dripped over the blemish, making the sheet semi-transparent. The pinkness of the stain turned to a deeper pink and as more tears fell it deepened so the red was now completely clear. I gripped the sheet tighter, pulling the cotton into my fists. “My baby,” I whispered desperately.

Mason slid behind me, gathering me against him but he remained silent as I kept repeating the same words, “My baby.”

CHAPTER 30

“WERE YOU AT the club with Rebecca?” I asked quietly into the darkness of the room. We had laid together for a couple of hours, both us silent in our own nightmares.

“Well she was there, yes” he breathed into my hair. I stiffened. “Why?” he asked.

I sighed, “Dane said you were . . . busy with Rebecca.”

He tightened his embrace, pulling me further into him. “No I wasn’t
with
Rebecca but we were working on the wages,” he whispered.

I turned around to look at him. “Have you found any . . . any discrepancies with the bar wages?” I probed, remembering the miscalculations from a few weeks ago.

He frowned. “Well I don’t do the bar wages, Rebecca does.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I was taking a look at them the day I found the file and they were way out.”

“Rebecca’s a bitch but she’s usually good with figures,” he stated.

I sniffed, “Oh yeah, she’s good with figures, so good they are £126,000 out!”

He pulled back and stared at me, “Really?”

He sat up now, looking at an invisible spot on the wall. “Yep, that’s why I found the file you had of me because I was looking for more receipts or new employees that weren’t down on record but I rechecked them three times and they still didn’t tally.”

He turned to look at me; cocking his head and frowning, “Strange, I’ll get Greg to double check for me.”

He stood and entered the bathroom, preparing a bath. I walked over and stood in the doorway as he was adding bath crème and lighting the candles, minus the brass candleholder that had broken when I smashed it into Dane’s face. I shivered at the memory, recalling him looming over me.

“Did you finish Dane or did Sam?” I asked quietly. He swiftly turned to look at me, regarding my face to get a reading of my mood.

He sighed but looked away. “I did,” he whispered with a chill to his voice and I nodded.

“Did it help?”

His eyes shot to mine. “Did it help when you hit me?” he asked slowly. I nodded solemnly but he smiled a warm smile that brightened his eyes. “There you go then.”

He turned back to the candles and I stood silent for a while. “But I didn’t kill you.” I spoke low and coolly but he didn’t turn.

“No,” he uttered. “Did you want to?” he asked, wanting complete honesty.

“No,” I said without hesitation.

He looked at me, held my eyes with his, searching them deeply for the truth and I held his gaze. He smiled slowly and winked, making the corners of my own mouth lift. He had a stunning smile, one that heated your insides. There weren’t many people who had the privilege to witness it.

He turned the taps off and I slipped out of my T-shirt and skirt, then slowly peeled off my bra and knickers. I noticed Mason looking at the pad in my knickers and the raw pain in his eyes wrenched at my soul. He was hurting too, just as much as me and in a way more, his inability to get to me in time agonised him; I could read all this in his expression. I walked over to him and held his jaw. “I love you,” I expressed softly.

He inhaled deeply. “Oh baby, I am so sorry. I tried to get here, I phoned Sam because I knew he was nearer but . . . but . . .” A tear slid from his eye, trickling down his beautiful face and I swiped it with my thumb.

“I know, Mason.”

I slid into the bath as he stripped and climbed in behind me, his legs flanking and entwining mine.

“I’m sorry about the bed, I ordered a new mattress but they can’t deliver until Monday,” he said softly, picking up the sponge and gently wiping my body, cleansing me.

I took hold of his hand and squeezed, revolving my head to kiss him softly. His hand cupped my cheek as he took control and kissed me tenderly and lovingly with soft little kisses at the side of my mouth, the opposite side to my stitches.

“I made him pay, Ava,” he breathed against my lips. I opened my eyes to see the glint in his eyes. I swallowed harshly but nodded and turned back to look at our tangled legs, joining us as did his words.

His act of revenge should have frightened me but I was glad that Dane had paid the price for killing my child, I wanted him to suffer the way we were but I was glad that Mason had managed to aid his grief and heartache. I just needed to do the same now.

Twisting the hot tap with my toe, I added more hot water. “You have many talents,” Mason joked.

I smiled up at him. “Many,” I nodded seriously.

His hand grazed my stomach. “Very many, lots and lots of them,” he growled in my ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“Stop it!” I warned in jest and he laughed.

“I know,” he sighed and kissed me softly on the head.

“We’re missing Sam and Marcy’s party,” I said glumly.

“It’s fine, Sam wasn’t expecting us there.” He dipped the sponge and trickled water across my chest as his chin leant on my shoulder to watch. “I nearly didn’t get my revenge; Sam kicked the shit out of him. It was only your scream that stopped him from killing Dane,” he exposed quietly and I nodded.

“He cares about you,” he whispered and I frowned.

“Who does?” I turned my head slightly to look at him.

“Sam,” he clarified. “He was really choked up when I got there. He was holding your limp body, rocking you and his face . . . his face when I got there. He looked broken . . .” I slid my hand up, cupping his cheek. My thumb stroked along his striking cheek bone. “I had to prise you off him; he just kept stroking your hair and saying sorry. If I didn’t know he cared for you platonically I’d have smacked him,” he laughed bitterly. “He’s scared of seeing you again.”

I frowned deeply, “But why?” I asked, baffled and confused.

“Because he blames himself for not getting to you earlier.”

I stiffened and swallowed heavily. “It’s my fault Mason,” I admitted on a whisper.

“What?” he gripped my chin and turned my face to his.

“It’s my fault.” I looked away and studied our toes bobbing above the water level; his large tanned toes softly stroking my little pale ones.

“I know that’s not true, Ava,” he breathed but I shook my head.

“He was just going to rape me but I begged him not to because I was pregnant.” I lowered my eyes as I heard Mason growl quietly. “He laughed and . . . and said he could rectify it and smashed his elbows into . . .” I sobbed.

His arms tightened. “Oh no, no, Ava. You told him to protect the baby. It’s natural to want to appeal to someone’s morality but Dane . . . Dane doesn’t have any. I promise you Ava, It—is—not—your—Fault.” I nodded but only to pacify him.

He squeezed me tighter and his thumb stroked across my knuckles. “Did he . . . did he manage to . . . Ava?” he asked so quietly. His voice held a terror I had never heard before and I could barely hear him.

I shook my head rapidly and pulled his hands into mine. “No,” I stated simply. “Sam got there before . . . before . . .”

I gulped and he kissed my cheek. “Shush,” he whispered as I let out a sob.

“I would have let him though . . . if I knew it would have saved our baby,” I told him honestly. He nodded slowly but didn’t speak.

“Do you think all the stalking stuff is over now? Do you think it was Dane that got that bloke following me?” I asked and I felt him shrug.

“I dunno, but I would have thought so, it started after your argument in the supermarket.”

I slid round onto my stomach and knelt up between his legs. “He said that Rebecca was pretty pissed with me, do you think she? . . .” I shrugged, unable to finish. He scowled and narrowed his eyes. “Mason, I need you to be honest with me now, it’ll help me figure this out but only if you’re truthful,” I said seriously and he frowned but nodded. “Did Rebecca come onto you at the club, did she try anything?”

He looked away, unable to hold my eyes. “Mason, be honest,” I appealed and he slid his eyes back to mine.

“Yes, she tried but I pushed her away.” His gaze held mine so I could see the honesty behind them.

I sighed, “It’s just something Dane said, that she was keeping you busy while he saw to me and I dunno . . . I believe it, I think she tried it on with you to keep you there until Dane had finished.”

He grasped the edge of the bathtub, his knuckles white and a cold haze clouded his eyes as his jaw tightened. I quickly held his chin and turned his face to mine. “Mason, I need you to stay focused on this, not go into your usual rage.”

His eyes cleared and he regarded me. “If I find out that’s true Ava, I will kill her,” he professed so coldly and so full of malevolence that I didn’t underestimate his words.