The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (274 page)

His bluntness made me obey, allowing him to silently study each mutilation. “Please . . .” I whispered. I hated his inspection. He was too quiet, making me detest my body and wishing he would at least just walk away if I repulsed him.

He walked round me until he was stood before me. His eyes narrowed on me before he gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked off his own top. I licked my lips as my eyes feasted on his ripped body, his abs sleek and defined.

But then he turned around and it was my turn to gasp. “Mirror images darlin.’”

I stared at his own welts, hundreds of them tore across his back, their angry red marks defacing his otherwise perfect body. He hissed when I reached out and followed each of their pathways, gently determining what instrument had caused which blemish.

My head tilted and I frowned when I noticed the poker burns. “Oh my.”

He nodded, “See Ava, we’re replicas of each other.” He turned back round to face me. “So don’t ever be ashamed of your body. You are fucking stunning. You make my dick so hard that I’m scared to death of coming before I’m even inside you.”

He cupped my breasts and I closed my eyes, fighting the pain that tore through my heart at another man’s hands on me.

“On your knees,” he whispered against me, causing me to jump in surprise to his closeness.

I nodded frantically, clenching my teeth at the agony tearing through me at what I was about to do as I slowly got down on my knees before him.

I felt him crouch behind me and I fought back the tears that rimmed my eyes. I needed to do this. I needed to move on.

I wanted to do this.

I wanted to move on.

I wanted to die.

“Shush,” Steed soothed as he pulled me back against him. I hadn’t realised I was sobbing until he lifted me onto his lap and wrapped me tightly in his arms. “Good girl,” he soothed into my ear, his warm breath tickling the chill in my tears.

My heart broke as each sob tore me to pieces. “I can’t,” I cried into him as I clung onto him.

He took every sob, every cry and every agonising scream from me, making them his own as he sat silently letting me release and use him for support while he rocked me gently in his arms. “I know, darlin.’”

“You know?” I hiccupped as I lifted my face to him.

He nodded and swiped at my tears with his thumb. “Your man has been ripping the city apart looking for you, how could I
not
know.”

“I don’t understand?”

He looked at his watch and smiled at me. “Prepare to be stormed in around thirty seconds, darlin.’”

“What?” I scrambled off him, shaking my head desperately. “What have you done?”

I fell to my knees again when I heard the wood splinter in the door and then heavy footsteps on the stairs. “What have you done?” I repeated just as my glorious bastard kicked my bedroom door open.

Chapter Nine

Wrath

Mason

I STARED AT her. Fuck, she was so damn perfect, so fucking beautiful. I felt like I had come home. My body shot to life as my eyes drank her in, each fibre in my system electrifying at her closeness. My soul sobbed with relief as my heart found the regular rhythm that had abandoned it six weeks ago, six—long—torturous—fucking—weeks.

She remained on her knees looking up at me, her face red and blotchy from her tears. It was then I noticed she was just in a skirt and bra. Panic and anger overtook then as I slowly turned my head to see Steed topless and watching us serenely from the edge of the room.

I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, my wrath just bubbling under the surface. “Did you touch her?”

He didn’t need to answer. His expression told me all I needed.

“MASON!” Ava screamed as her tiny hands pulled at me. “Stop!”

I blinked, pushing her away. She fell backwards, her backside hitting the floor with an oomph. Life seemed to slap back at me suddenly.

What the hell?

Steed was curled in the corner, bleeding and desperately trying to protect himself. Ava sat sobbing on the other side. And my knuckles hurt.

I spun round to face her, barely holding on to sanity never mind patience. “Did you fuck him?”

“What, no!” she spluttered.

“Did you kiss him?”

She scrambled to her feet and came to face me but I saw her fear and her anguish. “I haven’t seen you for six damn weeks and all you can ask is if I fucked another man?”

I closed my eyes and blew out the steady breath that was burning my lungs then took her face in mine, my hand sliding around the side of her face as though it had been moulded for just me. “Did—you—kiss—him?”

She held my gaze, her eyes stormy and dark. “Yes.” She inched closer to me, “Yes, I kissed him Mason. I had his tongue in my throat, I had his hands in my hair and then on my tits.”

And then I snapped. Viciously and very violently.

“Get out!” Ava screamed at Steed as I destroyed the bedroom, ripping the furniture apart with my bare hands as things splintered everywhere. The bed was torn to pieces, the bedding ripping like paper between my fingers as my fists destroyed the walls. The mirror was plucked from the dresser before it shattered against the headboard of the bed. The dresser was next, the sleek mahogany nothing against the rage flowing through me.

I finally turned to leave but stilled when I saw Ava stood with her back to the door watching me. She was calm and casual, her arms crossed over her chest. “Finished?”

“Don’t push me, Ava.”

She chuckled with bitterness and shook her head as she took a step towards me. “Now you can leave.”

She was too detached, too aloof and indifferent to my wrath. The chill from her settled into my bones as her unemotional eyes continued to watch me. “No.” I answered bluntly.

She pursed her lips and stepped into me again. She closed her eyes for a moment before she reopened them and I gulped at the iciness in her stare. “I asked you to leave. I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t even fucking love you, so get—the—fuck—out!”

I always wondered what it would feel like to hear her say she didn’t love me anymore. But I had never imagined the horrific agony that tore through me as my whole soul burst into flames. My knees buckled as I stared at her. She stared back, determination and resolve radiating from her in suffocating waves.

“No,” I shook my head at her as I went to reach for her. “Ava, please,” I begged when she took a step back and removed herself from arm’s length.

“Get out,” she whispered.

“No,” I choked out as I reached for her again.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” She screamed at me, her face morphing into something I had never witnessed in her before. “Go get high, Mason. Obliterate us both from your life. I’m done, I’m finished.”

I sank to the floor when she turned and left, my eyes on each of her scars as she walked away from me.

She had always been a fighter, had always been my little warrior. But now, there was nothing left, no fight, no grit, no determination.

My little warrior had already died.

Chapter Ten

Concede

Ava

MY EYES SHIFTED from the guy in front of me to the viewing window. There were currently three men watching us, each with their hands on their crotch, their fingers deftly working their solid erections.

“Deeper,” Random ordered as he slid his cock further down my throat. I gagged slightly when he gripped my hair and pulled me into his thrust.

The room was spinning, the faces blurred and wobbly in my haze of coke. No wonder Mason always turned to this shit, it was good at obliterating thoughts and emotions, and excellent at forcing back my self-hatred.

I could do this, I could fuck another. It would be so easy.

I was yanked to my feet by large hands. Random smiled kindly at me before he turned me round and bent me over the back of the couch in the room. I shivered and retched when he pulled at my knickers, sliding my skirt up and over my hips to give him better access. “Fuck, you have a sweet pussy,” he murmured as he slid to his knees behind me.

I squeezed my eyes closed when I felt his lips on my bare bottom. His fingers pinched at my flesh harshly as he continued his voyage lower and lower.

I squinted when I was suddenly moving across the room, my face looking at the floor and somebody’s jean clad backside. “Enough of this shit, Ava.”

“What?” I couldn’t seem to form words properly. Everything was surreal and obscure as I tracked the pattern in the carpet on my journey through endless corridors.

“Sleep,” someone whispered when a thick duvet was pulled under my chin. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

I smiled when I felt lips gently brushing my forehead. But then oblivion took me away.

* * *

“Oh Christ,” I croaked when my head wanted to split open and relieve the pressure banging on my skull. I covered my eyes with my hands before I opened them, fear at the pain the light would bring making me vigilant with how to wake.

“Hey,” a voice whispered, a familiar voice that made me smile.

I slid onto my side and risked the light just to see his handsome face. “Hey.”

He smiled softly and stroked the hair gently from my face. “How you doing?” William cringed when he asked the question as though he knew exactly how I was feeling.

“Umm, can I answer that question when you come into focus?”

He laughed low and handed me a glass of juice and a couple of pills, “Drink and swallow. Magic stuff, I can promise it works wonders.”

I sat upright, wincing as I nodded to him, and rested against the headboard. I chuckled and shook my head, “I always wondered what it would be like to sleep in your bed in your office.”

He smirked at me and shook his head. “Bathrooms through there,” he told me as he pointed to a door in the corner. “There’s fresh clothes in there. I’ll be back when you’re done.”

He walked away then suddenly turned to me. “You know,” he paused as if trying to find the courage to say what he wanted to say. “You know. George, your
dad,
was a good man, Ava. He loved you like his own. He took on your heartache and pain and he fought to bring you back to life . . . to
give
you a life.”

I swallowed as tears burnt my eyes and my stomach revolted. “I know.”

He nodded then narrowed his eyes on me, “And I can guarantee that he won’t want to be replaying all that up there.” He pointed to the ceiling then shrugged and looked down, “Or down there. He’s found his peace Ava, let him have it.”

I lowered my eyes when he closed the door behind him, watching the fall of each tear as they dropped into the glass of juice and marbled the orange into streaks of yellow.

* * *

I sighed as I sank into the hot water, the bubbles tickling my chin when I slid as far down as was possible without drowning. The warmth enveloped me straight away, disinfecting the chill that had developed in me.

I lay for a long while, wondering how much longer I had. Would it be painful, would it be quick or would it draw out agonisingly? I even pictured how many would be at my funeral.

“I would love to see Rebecca there.” I said to myself. “That would be awesome. I’d swoop down on her and flick her perfectly styled hair.”

I nodded to myself then sighed when I realised I’d spent way too long on my own. “You are so sad, you’ve now progressed to talking to yourself. I should get a dog.” I decided suddenly, “That way I have someone to talk to.” I frowned and chuckled, “But that’s out, Ava. Damn girl, he wouldn’t even get past the puppy stage and he’d be on his own.”

I clambered out when the water had cooled and rubbed myself down. I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror, the large scar on my breast from the poker glaring at me.

I traced along it with my finger. “You know what’s so fucking hard to take.” I spat at the ceiling. “I went through all the shit. I spent night after night, shivering in the cold, starving and fighting to survive until the morning. I’ve been raped, I’ve been beaten, I’ve been tortured for Christ’s sake, but not once, not one single time did I ever give up.”

I studied my breasts in the mirror, then placed my hands over then, squashing them as hard as I could to my chest. Mason loved my breasts, he’d feast on them, worship them even. I couldn’t bear for him to see them hacked away, replaced by something hideous and repulsive.

I fought back the anger and pulled on the clothes William had left for me, sniffing them secretly to see if they’d been cleaned from the previous woman who had worn them, then went back into his office.

My breath left me in a whoosh as a palm flashed across my cheek, snapping my head to one side abruptly. “You fucking bitch!” Courtney hissed at me.

She tore at me, her hands and nails in my face as she screamed and raged at me. I curled into myself and let her get it out. She needed to do this, she needed to let it loose but her sobbing hurt me more than her physical abuse. They were cries of broken sorrow and grief and each one gutted me.

“Okay,” she said finally as she lifted her chin defiantly. She wiped her forearm across her nose and turned to face someone. “She’s all yours.”

I gasped when Nate walked over and hoisted me onto his shoulder. “Enough of this crap Ava, you were born to fucking fight. And now . . .” his voice broke and he coughed to clear it away, “now you fucking fight.”

I didn’t answer for a while, I couldn’t; the distress in his voice hurt me more than anything. I hadn’t just destroyed myself, I had destroyed my friends along with me.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay?” he asked as he turned his head to look at me. He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head. “Okay?”

I nodded. “But you do this with me. Not Courtney, not Kade, not even Mason. I don’t want them to watch this. Just you.”

“You’re on. I’m there, sweetheart. Right the fuck beside you . . . all the damn way.”

I nodded, “Okay.” I repeated.

It was all I could say.

But it was enough.

Chapter Eleven

Relief

Mason

THE WHISKY WASN’T enough. The coke wasn’t enough. I fought over whether heroin would be enough.

I tried to stand but fell to the floor, my head bouncing off the corner of the coffee table. “Fuck!”