The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone

by D H Sidebottom

  “Could you leave us for a moment please?” Mason asked.

  She turned to him and nodded with a grin. “Of course, Sir.” I bit my lip at her deliberate ignorance. I saw Mason eyes darken and he looked up at her slowly as his eyebrows rose but she had already turned to leave.

  “Baby? What’s wrong?” he asked with concern and I shook my head, feeling foolish at my behaviour. “Tell me, Ava,” he demanded softly and I chewed on my little finger. His eyes dropped to my mouth and he reached across and pulled it away, wrapping his fingers around mine. “Baby, talk to me.”

  I picked up my fork and started fiddling with it. “Dane made me . . . I had to call him . . . Sir,” I revealed.

  Mason’s face darkened. “Oh baby,” he sighed but I shrugged.

  “It’s just me being stupid but when I hear it . . . well it kind of . . . you know,” I explained.

  He smiled softly at me. “Yeah,” was all he said but I knew he understood my discomfort.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to talk about it?” he asked. I knew he wanted to know what had happened in that room but I just shrugged.

  “I dunno, maybe . . . one day.”

  I glanced at him and he held my gaze. “Ava don’t be . . . don’t be worried about my reaction. If it will help to talk then . . .”

  I took a gulp of wine and sighed. “I was thinking of going back to see Dr Greene.” I picked up my fork again, fiddling with it so I wouldn’t have to look at Mason.

  “If you think it’ll help,” he replied but I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Mason,” I held his eyes as I spoke. “I don’t think you’ll . . . I know you won’t like . . . well, it’ll hurt you if I tell you what . . .” I looked away as the waitress returned.

  “Have you chosen, Sir?” she asked. I grit my teeth and shivered, pressing my fingers into my temples at the encroaching headache.

  This time Mason noticed and he turned slowly to look at her. “If you call me Sir one more time I will personally make sure you never work in another restaurant again, my Fiancé has asked you to call me by my name and I’d appreciate if you could honour that request.” He glared at her as she squirmed.

  “Yes of course Mr Fox, please accept my apologies,” she hummed and Mason sighed.

  “You could start by apologising to my Fiancé, not me,” he snapped.

  She bit her bottom lip as if it would cost her her life to address me. “I’m really sorry, Miss,” she grated out with a smirk and I curled my lip at her but didn’t answer. She turned to Mason once more. “Are you ready to order Sir . . . Mr Fox?” I could see the glint in her eye.

  “Just one moment,” I sighed. I stood and left the room, making my way over to the Maître d. “Is it possible to speak with the manager please?”

  He frowned at me but smiled. “Of course, one moment Miss.” He disappeared into a door behind him and I started wondering if it was such a good idea to leave her alone with Mason, she was probably straddled across his knee already.

  “Miss Stone?” A young, dark haired Italian man spoke.

  I tipped my head in query and smiled at him. “Are you the manager?” I asked thinking he was rather young to be running his own restaurant.

  “I am, Ben Rossi, pleasure to meet you Miss Stone.” He smiled and showed me his brilliant white teeth.

  I held out my hand to him. “Hi, I’m dining with Mason Fox in the private room and I’m having trouble, what shall I say, warming to the waitress. She’s rude, arrogant and she looks at my fiancé like she wants to rip his pants off and sit in his lap.” His eyebrows rose. “I was wondering if it would be possible to substitute her with a different waitress or am I allowed to . . . modify her without the risk of getting arrested?” I smiled widely.

  He looked at the floor and I noticed him trying to hide his grin. “I will personally see that a replacement is made immediately and please accept my apology for the behaviour of one of my employees. I shall make sure I . . . modify her myself.” He gave me a wry smile and his eyes lit with humour. I tipped my head at him.

  “Thank you so much, I’ll make sure Mason tips well,” I smirked and winked.

  He smiled again as I turned and walked back to our room. Ben followed me through the door, to where I found our waitress sat in my chair, leaning over the table towards Mason, showing him her ample cleavage. I harrumphed and glowered at Mason, whose eyes were wider than the waitress’s huge arse!

  “Clarissa!” Ben growled behind her. She flew off the chair and stood to attention at the sound of his voice. “Come with me please,” he ordered pleasantly but I could hear the underlying anger in his voice. Her eyes shifted quickly to mine as she stared daggers and I raised my eyebrows at her.

  She muttered something under her breath and turned to Mason, a sly smile curving on her lips. “Don’t forget to call me Mason,” she simpered and I sucked in a breath.

  “OUT!” Ben bellowed. I bit my cheek and clasped my hands together before I dragged her across the room by her hair and forced her fake smile through her large arse.

  “I’m so sorry about Clarissa, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Ben apologised but I only had eyes for Mason who looked thoroughly guilty and I wondered if he had actually took her number.

  Ben and Clarissa left the room and I stood glaring at Mason. “Sit down, Ava,” he sighed but I narrowed my eyes on him. He held up a piece of paper that looked remotely like a napkin, screwed it up and threw it across the room.

  My brows hit my hairline. “So you did actually take it then,” I scoffed and he glared at me.

  “Sit down,” he demanded. I huffed but sat and he cocked his head at me. “Baby, sometimes it’s easier to just take their number and throw it rather than keep fighting them off.”

  I snorted. “And how many do you actually throw away Mason and how many go in your pocket?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Ava . . .” he cautioned but I shook my head.

  “And while we’re on the subject of your many tarts, do you want to explain what happened with you and Rebecca, while were ‘talking.’” I drained my wine and filled it up straight away.

  He pinched his temples and let out a heavy sigh. “Are we just going to argue all night?”

  “I don’t know, are we? It wasn’t me ogling the fucking waitress.”

  His head snapped up as his eyes bored into me. “I was not ogling the waitress.”

  I scoffed and shook my head at him. “Mason, nobody gives their number out if they haven’t been encouraged. Shall I just go up to somebody in the restaurant and say ‘here’s my number, ring me’?”

  His lip curled and he closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “For fucks sake Ava, I didn’t encourage her. What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”

  “Does it not occur to you that I might have reason to not trust you? After Rebecca, Blondie and now back to Rebecca and whoever else you’ve fucked while you’ve been fuelled up on fucking coke, Mason?” I seethed. He cringed but scowled at me, his eyes dark and flinty. “Well?”

  “Ava please don’t do this now, we’re supposed to be having a nice evening together.”

  I reared back, “I thought you brought me here to talk, so talk!”

  He rubbed his face in his hands and groaned. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

  “Me? Is this your sneaky little way of changing the subject away from your fuck whore?” I was on a roll now and I could tell from his expression that he was doing exactly that . . . changing the subject and I was starting to be a little concerned why.

  A waiter entered the room and smiled politely at us. “Good evening, I’m Michael and I’m your new waiter for the evening. Are you ready to order?” He smiled hesitantly and I think he caught the atmosphere.

  “I’ll just take Steak and salad please,” I told him with a huge smile on my face. His lips curled slightly as he perused me and then he nodded as he wrote down my order.

  “Any
thing else Ma’am?” he asked and I tipped my head and pursed my lips.

  “Let’s see, is there anything else you can help me with?” I asked with a twinkle in my eye.

  “Ava . . .” Mason hissed but I ignored him.

  Michael gave me a cocky smile and raised an eyebrow at me. “What did you have in mind Miss?”

  I snatched up a napkin and scribbled my phone number down and passed it to him. “Apparently it’s perfectly normal for me to give you my number . . . so here you are.” I grinned. His eyes widened as he flicked a glance towards Mason, who swiftly seized the napkin.

  “What the fuck, Ava?” he raged but I shrugged and turned back to Michael.

  “Looks like just the steak and salad then.” I pouted playfully and I could see him trying to sustain a smile as he turned to Mason.

  “Are you ready to order, Sir?” he asked.

  I groaned loudly, my temper finally blowing. “For god’s sake his name is fucking Mason, you got that?—‘Mason.’” I took a deep breath and fought back the urge to vomit all over the table. “In fact, just forget it!” I stood up, my chair flying backwards and I reached for my bag.

  “Ava! Sit fucking down and behave,” Mason ordered and my head shot up.

  You are my Master and I must behave, Sir.

  “Yes, Master!” I shouted and strode out of the room, my temper frayed and my teeth nervously chattering, the vomit was seriously threatening to surface. If I heard ‘Sir’ one more time I think I might actually have passed out.

  The nausea was rising rapidly and I was starting to panic, tears filling my eyes and spilling onto my cheeks as I heard the words repeatedly in my head. I sucked on my lips and raced out of the building, swiftly looking for somewhere to throw up.

  I felt Mason’s hands wrap around my upper arms as he swung me round. “Ava! What the . . .” He didn’t finish as I spewed spectacularly all over his crisp black Armani shirt and trousers . . .

  “Fuck!” He growled and stepped back.

  “Just fuck off and leave me alone!” I shouted as I scanned the area for a place to substitute a toilet for. I spotted a flower bed and successfully reached it as I continued my stomach explosion. The words were still flying through my head as I retched and I grabbed at my hair, pulling it desperately as I tried to take the concentration off my thoughts and onto the pain but they were getting louder and I sunk to my knees, tears streaming down my face.

  ‘What do you say Ava?’

  ‘Please could you take me to the toilet Sir?’

  ‘You are such a whore that a fuck from anyone would sate you’

  ‘Yes, thank you Sir’

  ‘What do you say Ava?’

  ‘You are my Master and I must behave Sir’

  I retched as I covered my ears. “Noooo please.” I sobbed. Mason crouched beside me, his face etched in pain and fear.

  “Ava, please, what is it baby?” He scooped my hair in his grip as I threw up again and I fell into him as the last heave left my body.

  “Don’t let him . . . don’t let him get me Mason . . . please,” I begged as I buried my face in his strong chest and he enveloped me protectively.

  “I promise Ava . . . I promise,” he whispered into my hair as I wept.

  After taking me home, Mason laid me on the bed, tenderly removing my clothes and settling me down. “Sleep baby,” he whispered as he kissed my forehead, “I’ll be right downstairs.” I gulped but nodded. He smiled softly. “I promise I won’t leave you, I’m just gonna sort out Kerrie’s taxi and then I’ll be right up.”

  I nodded. “Leave the light on.”

  He frowned at me and then nodded. “Okay, I won’t be long,” he assured me. I smiled tensely and curled up under the duvet.

  I heard the door shut behind me, I panicked and ran out of bed to re-open it. Mason was on the top step heading down as he turned to look at me. I shrugged nervously and walked back to bed, climbed in and pulled the duvet right up to my chin.

  “Avaaaa.” I heard his voice behind me as I ran along the embankment, my feet stumbling in my heels. “You can’t run sweetheart.”

  I was sweating profusely, my legs trembling in fright as I panted and wheezed, my lungs fighting with the air that was trying to fill them.

  “Avaaaa.”

  I risked a glance back. I still couldn’t see him in the darkness, my eyes scanning the area and trying to adjust to the black depths following me. I turned back round and froze as I found myself back in the dirty rundown bedroom. “Noooo!” I screamed as my eyes landed on Greg in the chair. His eyes were open but blank and very, very dead . . . like him. His throat had been cut and blood was pouring from the wide open wound, his tongue swollen and hanging slightly out his open mouth.

  I couldn’t move, my body frozen in shock and horror. Hands gripped my arms and I screamed. “I told you Ava, you can’t outrun me. I will always get you,” Dane sneered as he dragged me over to the hook and chain.

  “Please no . . .” I begged, sobbing and weeping loudly. He yanked my hands upwards towards the hook and handcuffs suddenly appeared, binding my wrists to the hook as Dane stood before me, a leer on the half of his mouth that remained. “No, please Dane.” I was crying uncontrollably now, snot and dribble hanging off my face. He laughed the high pitched cackle that iced my blood and froze the air in my lungs, and held up the poker, glowing and bright red in the dimness of the room. I screamed again and struggled against the handcuffs, chafing and ripping the skin on my wrists.

  He laughed at me again. “Where’s your precious Mason, Ava? He promised he wouldn’t let me get to you and yet here I am.” He smirked as he swept his hands over himself. “Ready Ava, what do we say?”

  I shook my head rapidly, my bladder suddenly full and my body now naked. I looked down at myself and shook my head again as he took a step closer. “Need the toilet, Ava?” he chuckled and cocked his head.

  I jerked against the hook, pulling and tugging trying to free myself. He took a step closer and his mouth rested against my breast. “Ask Ava,” he demanded and I shook my head.

  “No!” I said firmly and he tutted at me.

  “Ask Ava.” he repeated.

  I shook the chain, trying desperately to tug it out of the ceiling. I let out a sob as he bit roughly into the flesh of my breast and I clenched my thighs together hastily. I heard his sinister laugh as I felt the urine trickle down my leg and I whimpered now I knew what was coming. “Please Sir, I didn’t mean . . .” I let out a blood curdling scream as I felt the blistering sear on my back, my skin recoiling and shrinking as the poker incinerated it and then ate away at the flesh underneath.

  I howled at the most intense pain I had ever felt as he held the poker tighter against me and it continued to corrode into me, the smell of charred tissue and muscle rank in my nostrils.

  “Say it Ava,” he demanded as he moved the poker to a new area of skin, the heat already sizzling into me before he placed it against me.

  “SAY IT WHORE!” he roared. I opened my mouth but the words wouldn’t come. “Three . . . two . . .”

  I gulped but opened my mouth again “YOU ARE MY MASTER AND I MUST BEHAVE. . . .” I shouted and then screamed. . . . .

  “AVA! FUCK!!!” I heard Mason shouting from somewhere. I continued screaming against the scorching sensation, as I flipped about, trying to take the pressure off my back.

  “GET IT OFF ME!” I screamed as I shot off the bed, my hands desperately trying to reach around my back.

  Mason clamped onto my arms. “Ava!” He shook me lightly and I shook my head rapidly.

  “It hurts so much Mason . . . stop it!” I begged as I struggled out of his grip, “Make it stop!!” I screamed.

  “AVA!” Mason bellowed at me.

  Suddenly I snapped awake and realised where I was, my brain reverting back into the present. I stopped abruptly and stood immobile, breathing heavily. “Baby, it was just a dream,” he soothed as he pulled me against him and wrapped me up in his arms. “Sshhh,” he pacifi
ed as he stroked my hair while I trembled against him.

  “Mason . . .” I sobbed.

  He scooped me up into his arms then walked into the bathroom and started to fill the bath without letting go of me. “It’s okay,” he whispered as he kissed my head and cupped my face. “I love you and I will never let him take you again.”

  CHAPTER 12

  MASON SETTLED ME in the bath when it was full and climbed in behind me, wrapping his arms and legs around me as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I sighed, relaxing into him as he planted tiny wet kisses on my neck every so often. “Okay?” he asked.

  I hiccupped and nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  We lay silent for a while, both lost in our own heads. “Ava?” Mason asked quietly.

  “Mmm,” I murmured as I sank further into the warmth of the bath and the comfort of Mason’s solid chest.

  “You . . . you shouted something before I woke you up.”

  I could sense his nerves and I frowned, “What?”

  I heard him sigh and then swallow loudly. “You shouted something like ‘you are my master and I must behave.’” I stiffened. He stroked his heel up and down my calf as his fingers entwined with mine. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he muttered quickly as he kissed my cheek.

  I paused then took a deep breath. “He made me say it to him whenever he took me down from the hook and chain,” I divulged uneasily.

  He was quiet for a while but I felt him brace himself. “What was the hook and chain?” He wanted to know but could he handle the knowledge? Only one way to find out and I was suddenly ready to tell him, to let him in.

  “It was a chain that hung from the ceiling with a hook attached to it.” Mason pulled in a sharp breath. “He would secure me to it and then . . .” I paused, not sure how much he wanted or needed to hear.

  He kissed my neck. “Go on, I need to know Ava,” he urged gently.

  “Are you sure?” He nodded against my shoulder and I took a deep breath. “He would hang me from it and . . . and whip and fuck me.” I clenched myself but Mason remained still, the only sign I knew he had heard me was his heavy uneven breaths. “He had different methods of . . . of torture.” I swallowed and closed my eyes. “His favourite was the whip but he also used canes, a small blade and he . . . he used various objects to . . . to fuck me with.” I shivered at the memories. “The last torture he used before I got out, the one he made Greg watch was a . . . to . . . to brand me with a red hot poker.” I trembled, my mind trying to stay stable throughout the memories. Mason’s arms and legs tightened around me.