The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone

by D H Sidebottom

  I flicked a glance at Rebecca who was glancing at me nervously and then to each of the men. I wanted to tell her to calm down. I could literally see her heart pumping through her breastbone as perspiration beaded her brow, her eyes anxiously widening then narrowing as too many deliberations rushed her brain. Her body wasn’t strong enough to cope with the adrenaline surge. I ignored the men and grabbed her attention. “Rebecca, calm down.”

  She gulped and nodded but I could see the fear in her, smell it even. “It will be okay, hun, you need to calm . . .”

  I hissed as a foot connected with my jaw, cracking my cheekbone as my face swung to the side and smashed against the metal column I was tied to. “Shut up.”

  “Hey,” Rebecca growled. “Leave her alone, she didn’t do anything.”

  The man turned to her and laughed, his Russian accent rebounding loudly off of what little objects littered the room.

  He smirked as he dropped to his haunches in front of her and gripped her chin. She whimpered loudly when he smeared the tears she had shed across her lips with his thumb, “You wanna make me angry, pretty lady? Go ahead, I bet I can make you angrier.”

  “Hey . . . Hey . . .” I intercepted. “Pick on me, you obviously know who I am.” He turned to me and sneered, his top lip curling with disgust. “You want a challenge? You look like the sort of man who does. So come on, big guy, pick on the bigger woman.”

  He tilted his head slowly, the malevolence in his expression causing me to shudder. “But, you see I prefer a woman who still has tits, so I’ll pass.”

  “You bastard!” Rebecca exclaimed and then spat in his face.

  Ahh Shit.

  His blows on her exhausted body were cruel and quite horrific. He didn’t take into account the fact that she was a woman, or that her already frail body couldn’t cope with his assault, he just punched her over and over.

  I yanked at my restraints when her lip burst open and blood sprayed over his face. He stopped, swiped at his cheek with the back of his hand then looked at it. His head tilted as though Rebecca’s blood was something of great interest before he slowly ran his tongue over his hand and lapped at her blood.

  “You sick fuck.”

  Rebecca was hardly even whining, her head drooped as her chin rested on her chest and her blood smeared onto her already ruined shirt.

  He just shrugged then stood up and swiped at his phone screen. “Your husband’s number, Mrs Fox, if you please.”

  “What?”

  “I require your husband’s phone number. You want to talk to him, do you not?”

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked as I kept my gaze trained on Rebecca, checking her over to distinguish if her injuries were life threating. It seemed he’d only done damage to her face and not her body, lessening any chance of internal injury.

  “All in good time. Now . . .” He bent and seized my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks cruelly, “ . . . Mason’s phone number.”

  I relented and gave it him. Mason was our only hope now but I hated to do this. Putting Mason’s life in danger had been the last thing I had wanted but now he was all the hope I had left.

  He punched in the numbers then turned the phone towards me. “Video call is so much fun, don’t you think?”

  I whimpered when Mason’s face filled the phone screen as he answered the call. “Hello?” The uncertainty at the unknown number giving his tone an edge of puzzlement. “Oh my god,” he choked out when my image filled his own screen. “Baby?”

  “Mason. . . .” I sobbed out as I saw his beautiful face, the most handsome face to ever grace my life. “Mason . . .”

  The Russian guy rolled his eyes. “Mr Fox,” he interrupted without turning the phone for Mason to see him. “I’ll make this quick . . .”

  “You fucking cunt. When I find you . . .”

  “All in good time, Mr Fox. In the meantime, I want three million transferring within the hour.”

  “What?” I choked out. “This is all for cash? For money? My God, you’re no more than a petty fucking thief.”

  I cried out when his foot slammed into my jaw, the pain so fierce that I choked on the bile that forced itself up my throat and my brain cried out as too many pain hits clashed with the adrenaline now coursing through me as well as Rebecca.

  “Okay . . . Okay,” Mason yelled. “Fine . . . fine . . . I can get it to you.”

  “And by the way, Fox. Don’t think you can double cross me.” He turned to Rebecca and pointed the phone at her. “Another of your lovers Mr Fox, although I know this one doesn’t mean quite as much as your wife.”

  I watched in horror as he pulled his gun from the back of his trousers and pointed it at Rebecca. “Nooo,” I screamed as he shot her in the thigh, no hesitation, no feelings shown on his face and no acknowledgement to what he had just done in his eyes.

  “You have one hour before your bitch bleeds out and then I move onto your wife . . .”

  “Oh fuck . . . Bec? Becca?” Mason choked out.

  I stared in shock as Rebecca writhed in agony, her tears thick and rampant as she screamed and cried out, trying desperately to draw her legs towards her body instinctively to aid her pain.

  “Now,” Russian carried on nonchalantly. “Bank number 08–96–69–42, account number 5673991763534 . . .”

  Mason’s survival training kicked in suddenly as instinct hit the part of my brain that was still coherent. I closed my eyes and prayed that it wasn’t the last time I ever spoke to my husband. “MASON,” I shouted quickly. “FIFTEEN MILE RADIUS, RURAL OUT-BUILDING, RAPESEED TANG TO THE AIR. THREE RUSSIAN BROTHERS. . . . .”

  Everything went black when one of the other Russians punched me in the temple but before I went out, I heard Mason shout out an order to someone. My glorious bastard was back, doing what he did best . . .

  Saving his little warrior.

  * * *

  “Rebecca?” I hissed at her as I came round. “Wake up!”

  She murmured something I didn’t catch, her voice low and grating as her mouth struggled to move. “Honey, look at me. Look at me Rebecca.”

  Her eyes opened slowly, way too slowly. I glanced at the pool of blood she was sat in; too much, way too much.

  “Fuck!” I hissed.

  “Ava . . .” she whispered. She lifted her heavy eyelids and stared at me as she blinked slowly. “I’m . . .” She swallowed, the action torturous to watch as her body had accepted this was the end.

  “Hun . . .” I choked out. I couldn’t reach her. I couldn’t get to her and I so desperately wanted to hold her hand. She needed that, she deserved that.

  I accepted it now. I admitted to myself that my husband had created a monster in both of us, had morphed us both into women that needed him to survive, to breathe. She had done what any of us would have done, she had fought for her man, she had used what weapons had been available to her and she had never given up, even when cruelty and humiliation had eaten at her, she had pushed on and that in itself deserved my respect.

  “I’m sorry, for everything . . . Ava. I . . .”

  “Shush,” I sobbed as I watched her slipping away. “Hey, you . . . you and me, Rebecca, we’re the same, we’re both creations of what love does to us all. I forgive you, for everything and I know Mason does too.”

  She shook her head slowly as a single tear rolled down her face. “I loved him so much Ava but it was never . . . enough . . . I was never enough . . .”

  Her eyes closed slowly and I knew, I knew. “But he always came back. . . . He always came back to you Rebecca . . .” I whispered as she slipped away.

  The sobs that racked my body hurt, they hurt like fuck, each one ripping at me, tearing at my soul as devastation consumed me and crippled me, each breath as debilitating as the previous.

  I understood now. She had been guilty of loving and that was all. She had loved too much and in the end it still hadn’t been enough.

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed as I frantically tried to reach her. But as
in life, I’d never been able to reach her. She’d never been able to reach herself. She’d never had a moment’s peace from the torture of heartache but now as I whispered a silent prayer for her, I knew she was finally granted the peace that she’d always sought in life.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Carnage

  Mason

  I ROLLED MY fingers around, catching their attention. Numerous affirmatives were whispered in my ear as we all turned to night vision. As soon as the lights snapped out in the building we went in silently.

  The first Kenin brother went down easy with a single bullet to his forehead. Sam waved him down and the other’s moved forward as I went in search of Ava, furiously pulling at each door. There were so many different corridors and rooms that led to other rooms.

  Kade had done a brilliant job of narrowing down the area we needed. My amazing fucking wife was still the warrior we had both created in her, giving me pride at what she had learnt and managed to initiate even during periods of horror, she had once more come into her own and done what was needed.

  We’d found the farm, based on her clues, and I was astounded at what had been created underneath it. It was a quarry of corridors, rooms and the place even housed a drug factory.

  Three rooms I tried before I found her, each holding a horror in each, each as stomach curling as the last as emaciated bodies, blood splattered walls and beaten girls drugged out of their minds greeted me.

  I was starting to panic, these men weren’t two bit crooks; they were mean and hungry, taking away their conscience and just filling it with detachment and indifference, making them extremely dangerous.

  And I knew I was in trouble when I opened the door and found the third brother stood behind Ava with arm around her neck and a gun embedded in the middle of her breastbone.

  “How nice of you to join us Mr Fox,” he sneered into the darkness. He was well aware of my available vision, hence why he was stood using Ava as a shield as well as a bribe.

  I swallowed quietly when Ava lifted her hand to me. I wanted to drop to my feet and fucking idolise her, worship her fucking strength and fortitude.

  “But you see,” he continued. “I did warn you about double crossing me. I also gave you an hour to come for your bitch. And I’m afraid you’re a little too late now.” He turned to Ava and smiled, “You should have bought your husband a watch for his birthday.”

  Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Even the air that my lungs sucked at trickled down my throat at a torturous pace, as my heart rate slowed to complement the pace.

  I watched his finger press against the trigger as I started to move. I watched in horror as Ava lifted both hands, one out straight in front of her to stop me. The other seemed to move even slower but was in fact immeasurably fast as she brought it up to the muzzle of the gun that was pressed against her chest.

  The heel of her hand nudged the gun and I screamed out when the bullet fired straight through her shoulder. She cried out and fell forward leaving Kenin staring open mouthed behind her, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth as a hole appeared in his chest.

  I reached Ava, pulling her against me as Kenin dropped to the floor, his eyes still wide but the light in them extinguished.

  “Fuck Ava, what did you just do? What the fuck? You just shot yourself.”

  She stared at me, her eyes wide in panic as her hands lifted to my face. “Mason? . . . Mason, I’m so sorry . . .”

  “Shush. Save your energy, baby. We need to get you to hospital.”

  She shook her head furiously, tears streaming down her face as I pressed my palm over the bullet wound just above her collarbone. “She’s gone, Mason. I tried . . . I tried so hard for her . . .”

  I nodded. I’d already seen Rebecca’s body through the goggles, but she hadn’t given off any thermal light. “I know, baby. Shush, it’s okay.”

  “I’m so sorry . . .”

  “Ava!” I scolded as she became hysterical. “Calm down, you need to save your energy. Do as you are fucking told!”

  She blinked at me but her lips twitched as I brought my mouthpiece to my lips and pressed the button on the side of my earpiece. “Target three down. I need an ambulance . . . fast.”

  Furious assaults of acknowledgements hissed in my ear and I switched it back off as I pulled Ava harder into me. “I love you, Ava.”

  She nodded weakly against me, her sobs quiet now as her vigour depleted. “And me, you.” She whispered before the door flung open and my men stormed the room.

  Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Ava. When the fuck are you gonna stop causing so much damn trouble?”

  Her lips twisted as she raised her eyes to him. “Ahh you’d get bored without my adventures.”

  He laughed loudly as he crouched before us and patted her cheek. “We would, we so fucking would. Nice to have you back Mrs Fox.” He winked.

  “And it’s nice to be back,” she whispered as she palmed my cheek, her eyes telling me everything I needed from her, her love and remorse open and honest. “But this time,” she scowled at me. “Try to hold on to me a bit longer, eh? It’s not really much fun without you.”

  I stared at her open mouthed. She giggled and fuck me, if that wasn’t the best damn sound in the world. “Yes, of course, baby. I’ll try to do better next time.”

  “Good boy.” I shook my head and lifted her into my arms. “Ahh fuck, watch it, I currently have a damn hole in my shoulder you know.”

  I growled at her as I walked us through the corridors to meet the ambulance. “I can’t believe you did that, Ava. Jesus Christ.”

  “Hey,” she defended. “It was an awesome move.”

  “It was damn stupid!”

  “Nah, if Bruce Willis can do it, then so can I.”

  “What?” I scoffed at her. “You copied a move from a damn film?”

  “Excuse me,” she protested. “It wasn’t just a damn film, it was Die Hard.”

  “Well,” I shrugged. “That’s okay then, that makes all the difference.”

  She grinned and nodded at me. “You can’t beat Bruce Willis.” I narrowed my eyes on her. “Sorry, after Mason Fox, of course.”

  I gave her a stern nod and held her firmer, just inhaling her, just taking her essence and feeding my soul with it. I was never letting her go again, ever. Kicking or screaming, my little warrior would now be attached to my hip, our souls linked mercilessly.

  The doctors weren’t too impressed with that promise when they had me to contend with during the operation to remove the bullet from her shoulder.

  But fuck them.

  I was Mason Fox.

  And life didn’t get any better.

  PART TWO

  Sometimes, the only way to face your past is to accept your future

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Old memories

  Mason

  I SMILED AT her as I re-puffed her pillow, her beautiful eyes smiling back at me. “Love you,” I whispered happily as I planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

  “I know,” she whispered back as I slipped onto the bed behind her and curled an arm around her waist. “And me, you.”

  “Hey,” I asked suddenly. “Will the consultant come here with your test results tomorrow?”

  She shuffled round to look at me, her brow creased in confusion. “Why would Dr Franks come here?”

  “Well, because you’re bed bound.”

  “I’m not bed bound Mason.”

  I knew she thought I was being a mother hen since she’d come home two hours ago. Her shoulder had healed perfectly, another scar to add to the collection but anyone would think she had just tumbled over the curb the way she was behaving.

  “Yes, Ava, you are. The doc said you needed to take it easy.” I argued as I narrowed my eyes on her.

  “Mason,” she grinned at me, her eyes teasing me brightly. “Since when did I ever listen?”

  “Exactly,” I reprimanded with a tone that told her not to argue. “So
this time you’re gonna do as you are told.”

  She nodded firmly and saluted me with two fingers. I smirked and shook my head. “Still, after all these years you can never master the salute.” She quirked a brow at me but I smiled and ran a finger across her jaw. “Do you remember that night?”

  She groaned as the memory of her hangover came crashing back to her.

  Incineration

  I saw her as soon as I entered the club. I also heard the perfection of her laugh. I was just relieved I had found her, after our argument and her state of mind, I’d been frantic.

  She was laid out in the middle of the dance floor, her legs bare from her thighs downwards, her feet kicking drunkenly in time to the beat of the music as her heels slipped from her shoes and they hung on to her toes precariously.

  The anger bubbled in my gut. She was way past the drunken stage, she was slaughtered . . . and making a fool of herself.

  I stalked slowly over to her, people in my path moving aside as they felt the storm brewing around me. She had her eyes closed, her hysterical laughter filling the air around me as he arms lay out either side of her.

  Her friend quirked one eye open and then squinted at me. “Oh dear,” she whispered.

  Ava moaned and opened her eyes slowly. She gaped at me then her lips twitched and she was giggling deliciously, the sweet tone to her warming my belly. However, she needed to learn that she couldn’t just walk out on me and disappear.

  “Hey, baby.” She slurred as her arms came up to reach for me. “Your little warrior is a little blotto.”

  I sucked in a breath and bit down on the inside of my cheek. Was she for real? Did she not think I’d kind of sussed that out? “Get up, Ava.”

  Her laughter erupted again. Obviously I was hilarious. Not for long.

  “Sammy!” Ava screeched when she spotted Sam behind me. “Did you bring Mr Cross?”

  Mr Cross? Mr Cross? Jesus holy Christ. I was gonna be on the News at Ten for torturing a drunken woman in the middle of my own nightclub with her own damn shoes.