“He won’t ever leave me,” I declared. “I go where he goes.”
As much as my statement hurt him he knew I wouldn’t ever survive without Mason, just as Mason wouldn’t breathe without me.
“Go get some sleep,” I told him. He was exhausted, the usual bright blue of his eyes hidden behind threads of blood and the white of his eyes shadowed with a grey tint.
“The doctors are coming later. Make sure you let me know what they say.”
“I will.
He bent to kiss me, his mouth pressing hard against my own. Drawing back, he ran the tip of his nose down the length of mine. “Anything happens, don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.”
“I won’t,” I whispered.
He walked away, refusing to look back. I knew he was crying but I knew he needed to do it alone. I loved him, and he loved me. Yet life wasn’t that simple. Mason was my soul, the beat of my heart, and if I lost him then, even with Kade’s love, I just wouldn’t be able to take the agony of that. They all say that time heals but no amount of time could ever fill the hollow that would be left inside me without Mason there. He was the air I breathed, the substance in my veins, the aura of my soul, and the rhythm in my heart. Everything would die within me without those things that kept them going.
I took the chair Kade had vacated and made myself look at Mason.
His chest rose and fell in rhythm as air was pumped into his lungs. The machine told me his heart was still beating. Two bags hooked to the side of his bed extracted his urine and the excess blood swilling around inside him. Antibiotics and other medications were pushed into his veins and food was slowly fed into his stomach. Most of his skin was hidden beneath layers of gauze, stemming the blood loss and keeping out infection.
But it was his face that broke me. My man didn’t smile, his beautiful steel greys didn’t turn and twinkle at me like they always did when I walked into a room. My name didn’t rush from his lips.
Four rows of suturing held his face together. His usual tanned skin was now purple and blue. His nose had been annihilated, now just a crooked mess of flesh and shattered bone. His jaw was so swollen I wasn’t sure where his neck began and his chin protruded. His eyes were taped down, my fingers itching to remove the white strips so he could open them and look at me.
Even his hands were bandaged, and I had no doubt that there were no fingernails left under there. However, very gently, I lifted his hand and slipped mine underneath, resting his back down on my upturned palm.
That simple touch was the thing that called forth the despair and the grief. Tipping my head back, I screamed into the room, my heart exploding with pain. I knew with every breath I took that he wouldn’t survive. He had been destroyed, completely. Every part of him that made him him was now gone, replaced by a corpse of mutilated skin and broken bones.
I had always expected to be the one that went first, the cancer returning to finish me. Even though it was back it wouldn’t take me quick enough. Cancer only promised a drawn out death, an excruciating wait for it to take your last breath.
But all that didn’t matter now. Death was now guaranteed by a bullet, swiftly impaled into the temple and straight into the brain.
“We’ve had a good life, baby,” I whispered, a soft smile touching my lips.
I chuckled to myself, “Only we could call the last twenty years of drama, murder, affairs and drugs, good.”
I lay my other hand over the top of his. “But you need to know, before you go, that I would do it all again, because you’ve been right there beside me. You’ve taken my hand and pulled me through the darkness, the pain and the horrors we’ve faced.”
Swiping at the tears that fell, I quickly put my hand back on his. “I remember everything. I remember the way your eyes fell to mine the first day I met you. I remember the despair on your face when I had the twins. I remember making love on the beach at the French chateau. I remember how fucking beautiful you were on our wedding day, and even the pleasure in your eyes the first time you made love to me.
Not even death will take those memories from me, Mason. My heart will stop with yours, but our love and our souls will go on forever.”
The machines still beeped. Mason’s lungs still lifted and fell. His eyes remained closed. But I felt him, right beside me. I felt his love curl around my heart. And I felt his soul reach out for mine, protecting it like he always did. Even at the gates to heaven did he still keep me safe, even from myself.
I dropped my forehead to his arm.
And for the first time in my life, I prayed.
Twenty Two
Katie
Four days later
Mum’s hand found mine when my knees buckled.
I watched them hoist the coffin onto their shoulders, each man sombrely lowering their eyes to their feet as they stepped forward in unison.
Music played when we entered the chapel but I couldn’t tell you what it was, in fact I couldn’t tell you how the small church was laid out.
I needed my dad. But I couldn’t have him, so I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and follow my husband down the aisle until he was perched onto a platform covered in a white sheet.
It was all a farce; from the chosen wood of his coffin to the few flowers scattered around, to the music being played through a crackly speaker in the corner of the cold room. Apparently death paid.
The service was a blur. I didn’t hear one word. I felt my mother’s hand in mine, and I saw the box that held my husband.
Memories of his laughter filtered in, the look in his eyes when he sank deep inside me. The echo of his declaration of love tumbled into my head. Even the taste of his kiss lingered on my lips.
It was all still so fresh, so new.
“I’m going to Bali.”
Mum turned, and smiled. “Good.”
The vicar scowled at me when he saw my lack of attention to his god awful sermon, the bullshit he spewed about God welcoming Steed into his arms. I wanted to laugh. Steed had gone straight down, at lightning speed. However, I knew he wouldn’t have the patience with the saints and the angels, hell was entirely his cup of tea.
Curtains pulled around the coffin as the music became loud to my ears, its decibels trying to sound out the cogs that carried the coffin into the incinerator.
Weeping filled the gaps between the music.
I stood up and walked out.
♡
George sat on a chair. He was pale, his eyes downcast as me and my mother sat opposite him.
We’d been there for almost an hour, no one saying a word.
Eventually, Mum sighed. “Why?”
His eyes lifted to her. I swear there was nothing left of my brother inside, there was an emptiness behind his eyes that fractured my spirit. He was my twin, half of a soul that tethered us together, but I would never accept that part of him.
Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes on her. “He will kill you eventually. He will drag you into hell. All your damn life people have taken and taken from you, Mum. Dad, men, friends.” His eyes moved to me. “Even Katie. They’re all out for what they can get from you. You’ll never find happiness; you’ll never find salvation from their sins.”
I wanted to laugh. He sounded like a fucking preacher.
Mum just nodded slowly.
“You should be grateful,” he went on, “I cleared the way for your happiness.”
She laughed. Her head tipped back as hysterics took her. Tears rolled from her eyes and her arms came around her belly to stop the cramp.
George stared at her, his confusion evident.
“Oh, you certainly did that.”
He frowned.
“They tell me hell is warm this time of year.”
“I don’t…” he shook his head, his face screwed up with bewilderment.
“You stupid boy!” she suddenly snapped, “You actually think I would survive without your father?”
“But he’s hurt you so much.”
She shot out of her chair. Her hands gripped the arms of George’s chair as she thrust her face to his. “But he’s loved me! Your father loves me with a passion, with an intensity that people can only ever dream of having once in their lifetime. It’s raw, it’s primal, it’s fucking sacred. Every single second of our twenty two years together, your father has given me that love. He took me at my worst and he built me up. He brought me back to life, he gave me his heart and he forced me to stand up and fucking breathe. To fucking live!”
“Let me tell you something that he refused to ever tell you,” she spat. “Your father asked me to marry him. And do you know what I did?”
He stared up at her, horror creeping over his pale face.
“I laughed at him. And then I went out and I fucked someone else! I fucked Kade!”
“W-What?”
“Oh yeah.” She nodded quickly. “I took his love and I threw it back at him. But guess what. Your dad loved me that much that he overlooked it, he forced it away just so he could keep me beside him.”
“But more than that, I fell in love with Kade. I fell so deeply in love that I couldn’t ever give him up. Your father loved me so much that he gave in, he allowed another man into our lives, because of me. He says it was for himself, but I know, I know within my soul that he has taken Kade because of me.”
“But the drugs, the women, the violence…”
“The drugs gave him an excuse for fucking other women! What excuse did I have? None. You think I’m a saint, George! I am far from it. I’ve done things worse than any woman, worse than what you accuse Mason of! I relished in the violence. Your dad didn’t force me to hurt anyone. Sometimes I think he despised that part of me because I slowly destroyed myself. But your father never destroyed me. He kept me alive, he kept my heart nourished.”
She moved back, standing over him. Defeated, her shoulders sagged and she ran her hands over her face. “You killed us both when you took a blade to your own father.”
“I refuse to believe that. You can change your life around now, Mum. You can start again.”
“What?” This time it was her with shock covering her face. “You think I want to go on without him? You think it’s even possible? That I’d even want to?”
He was silent. Finally, he understood.
“And Courtney?” Mum asked, taking a step back from him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” His voice was a whisper; shame, surprisingly, showing in his eyes. “I can’t remember.”
Mum tutted, disgust pouring from her.
“And Steed?”
I flinched. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it but I forced myself to remain still and silent.
“It was part of the deal with the Vaughans. They wanted information on Katie after she took out Jacob.”
“But you knew what they would do.”
He shrugged. “They promised me drugs… and Dad.”
“Jesus Christ.” Mum whispered with horror. “Where the hell did I go wrong?”
He looked at her with shock. “You didn’t go wrong, Mum. It was him, always him.”
“No,” she shook her head. “It was never him, George. You have no idea what your dad did to protect you, to give you the things in life that he thought you deserved. You deserve nothing… but death.”
Acceptance bled into his eyes as they flicked to me, and he nodded. “Not you, Mum. Even I wouldn’t put that on you. Katie does it.”
“No…” Mum spoke quickly.
“Yes,” I declared.
Both George and my mum turned to look back at me.
“But you give George a gun. I refuse to kill him coldly. One last fight, brother. And if you take me down,” I looked at Mum, “You let him go.”
Her eyes held mine for a brief second before she nodded.
She cut George’s ties, and then she handed him her gun.
Twenty Three
Ava
Both my children stood before me, side by side, hand in hand. Both were the epitome of how they were created - out of blood, lust, chaos and carnage. One with a thirst for bloodshed, the other with a hunger for peace.
And now I faced the decision no mother should ever have to. I had to choose. I had to split my soul in two and massacre one half of it, knowing I will never be the same woman again.
It takes a certain amount of strength to admit failure, to admit that one of your babies is… wrong. That there’s something deep within them that isn’t… right.
I kissed them both, a tender loving kiss of pure devoutness that I could only hope would grant each of them absolution. I swallowed back the pain, the utter feeling of hopelessness inside as each one awarded me their tears of understanding.
And then I turned and walked away.
I left my children to fight. Together. To the end. To the very bitter end.
Only one would prevail.
My feet stuttered at the sound of a single gunshot – a sound that will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. My knees buckled and I gasped for breath when an unbearable agony tore through me as my heart splintered in two. A scream ripped from the very core of me as my soul fractured within me.
I felt my husband’s hand slip into mine, guiding me, holding me, even though he wasn’t here. How I wished he was here. How I longed to feel his arms around me one more time, to touch his beautiful smile with the tips of my fingers, to feel his lips brush mine.
The door opened. Katie stood with her hand on the doorframe as she tried to hold herself up. Splatters of her own brother’s blood covered her face and chest. “He shot himself.”
Her throat bobbed as she tried to hold back the vomit. But its force was too powerful. She spun round as her stomach emptied its contents all over the concrete floor.
My son hadn’t wanted me to witness his final weakness. And as Katie handed Barbara back to me, I realised that, in the end, it had been my bullet that had killed my own child.
I drew back my shoulders, wiped away my tears and released a shuddering breath.
And then I carried on walking.
Epilogue
Ava
Four weeks later
My stomach growled. I looked out of the window at the rain that poured down the glass, the wind howling through the decaying window frame blowing the cheap threadbare curtains slightly.
“Wind’s getting up, Mason.”
As usual he didn’t answer me. His lungs continued to lift and fall. His heart continued to beat. His eyes remained closed.
Night had descended and a yawn told me it was time to go and sleep.
Katie had returned from Bali a week ago. There was something different about her. She had always been a cold person, her emotions hidden away. Yet now she was hard, breathing a bitterness that, for some reason, had engulfed her.
Grace had had to leave to take another assignment but Kade stayed behind with me.
I lived in limbo, waiting for the day my husband decided he’d had enough and found the strength to make his next journey. The doctors had told me it was highly unlikely he would wake now. He’d taken too much of a battering. Normally, they’d told me, anyone with that amount of injuries wouldn’t have even made it to the hospital.
But my man was a tough one. Or stubborn, whichever way you wanted to look at it.
Dr Franks had visited. Apparently the lumps in my neck were just enlarged glands, probably due to being run down and stressed. He’d stared at me when I’d just nodded. My indifference shocked him. However, whatever the outcome of the tests, I was soon a dead woman anyway.
I picked up my bag and, as was routine, leaned into my husband and inhaled his unique scent. Pressing my lips to his forehead, I whispered, “I love you, my glorious bastard. Wait for me until morning.”
As I stood up a noise sounded, making me jolt. Confusion, for a moment, made me stare around the room.
It wasn’t until Mason started to jerk on the bed and alarms screeched that my heart stopped beating with my husband’s. He flipped and buck
ed, his body jumping off the bed as a seizure tore through him.
I was too shocked to move.
The doors flew open and a multitude of people burst in.
Nurses held his body down as doctors shouted commands and put paddles to Mason’s chest. Needles were inserted into him as more orders were barked out.
I couldn’t move. I just stood and watched my husband die, right before me.
“Ava.” Hands grabbed at me, gently pulling me away. “Come on, Ava,” Theresa beckoned as she guided me out of the room. “Let them do their job.”
The doors banged shut behind us but I could still hear their shouted instructions and the scurry to keep my man alive.
But I knew that they wouldn’t succeed.
He’d held on for so long. But he was tired. So very tired.
“He’s dying,” I whispered to no one in particular.
I wasn’t scared. I thought I would be.
Theresa directed me into a chair.
I closed my eyes as I prepared for his soul to leave me.
Visions of our life flashed in my head. They always say that your life flashes before you as you die, and I wondered if I shared Mason’s as image after image flooded my mind, our wedding, Mason holding Katie after she’d been born. His hand in mine as I shot Dean. Our lovemaking, our kisses, our laughter, our tears. Each one took my breath as I welcomed them into my heart.
Time passed. Theresa stayed with me, sat beside me as she held my hand tightly. I was calm, just waiting.
Finally, the door opened. A doctor stepped out and looked down at me. “Mrs Fox.”
I stood up, waiting, ready.
But he turned and walked back into the room.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. But eventually I followed.
All eyes turned to me when I entered the room, every face full of shock as they all looked.
Decay (Heart of Stone Book 13) Page 14
