‘Yeah.’ Drew went to scratch his chin, but looked disappointed when the handcuff snapped his wrist back. ‘After she cheated on him, he sort of made it his mission to get them back. As for my books… he found it poetic, I guess. It was how they’d met, after all.’
Mason leaned over and put a hand on his. ‘You didn’t need to be dragged down with it. I haven’t known you for long, but I’m positive that you’re a good guy.’
‘Meh. I’m a killer, Mason. Whatever my reasons, I’m a killer.’
‘In the end, you did what was right. You can’t change the past, but you’ll just have to convince yourself that your last actions say something about you. George was important to you – that’s obvious – but you broke away from that toxic relationship for the greater good.’
Drew rolled his head to the side, gazing out of the nearby window. It was sunny outside, which came as a nice November surprise.
‘I have to get going,’ Mason told him. ‘Anything you need, just talk to the warden.’
‘Thanks.’
Mason wasn’t sure if he would ever see Drew Ackerman again. On some level he hoped he would. Maybe in a few years, when he was due to be released from prison, he would return with a new frame of mind. Until then, all he could do was ask the guard to make sure he stayed comfortable.
As for his own problems, Mason left the hospital ready to see Diane again. These past few days had been all about repairing relationships, and now it was time to tend to his own… even at the sacrifice of his career.
40
As the bus pulled into the station that night, Diane listened to Mason’s voicemail once more.
‘I’m ready to make things work. If you want me around, I’m there. If you want me to quit my job, I’ll find a new one. I’ll do anything it takes for you to be happy – you and the baby.’
It was an endearing thought, and she couldn’t wait to begin this new life of theirs. At the heart of it, his career wasn’t a problem. Mostly it was his obsession toward it. But after some hard thinking, she couldn’t ask him to put that behind, although it was sweet that he’d offered.
The bus stopped with a hiss, and everybody filed out into the cool evening air. When everybody headed inside the building to arrange their transportation, Diane took off in the other direction. Mason had said he would pick her up from across the street, and so she waited there in solitude.
I wish he would hurry up.
She felt unsettled with the dark street and the eerie sound of footsteps in the distance. With the baby growing inside her, she wanted to be extra careful. Taking every extra precaution, she walked a little farther up the street, heading toward the light of the streetlamp.
When she arrived, she noticed that the footsteps had stopped.
Craning her neck, Diane turned her ear toward the direction of the last noises. The long and empty stretch of road played havoc on her imagination, but she was a big girl now and needed to think like one.
That was when the cool prick of a blade entered her back.
Diane’s mouth went dry. Her body stiffened as the knife slowly exited her body. As she began to bleed out, a nauseating feeling enveloped her that she couldn’t shake off. All she could do was stand in shock, coming to terms with what had happened.
‘There, there,’ said a man from behind. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. ‘Just let the blood seep from your body.’ He chuckled then, as if this was perfectly natural – perfectly normal. ‘Oh, but if you do make it through this…’
Diane could feel her heart slowing down, and all she could think about was the baby.
‘… Tell Mason that Anarchy says hello.’
BLOOD SPORT
MASON BLACK (BOOK 5)
Adam Nicholls
1
Anarchy waited in the darkness, ready to strike.
He had studied the human anatomy and knew exactly where to drive the blade. If he handled it right, the detective’s girlfriend would survive just long enough to tell her death story. She could alert Mason that Anarchy was coming for him, right before she slipped into darkness. The thought aroused him. Tonight was his to claim.
Diane crossed the street from the bus station, shooting quick glances around her as if she expected him. Her vigilance made it more difficult for him to sneak up on her, but pregnancy slowed her movements, so it wasn’t like she could run. He worried about the screams. Of fear. Of pain. Good Samaritans were too eager to be heroes these days.
As she drew nearer to him, Anarchy shuffled along in the darkness, making his way toward the nearby streetlamp. Anybody with half a brain would rather wait in the safety of light rather than in the dark, and this woman didn’t disappoint. He knew all about her intelligence after cloning her cell phone. Anything she did – calls, texts, even stupid games where you have to launch birds at pigs using a catapult – he saw it happening in real-time on his spare phone, allowing him to find this ideal opportunity in the first place.
Finally, Diane stood under the streetlamp with her back toward him.
Watering at the mouth and giddy with excitement, Anarchy seized his moment. Knife in hand, he crept out of the darkness, sneaking up behind her without a sound. Savouring the delicious feel of the skin being split wide open, he slid the knife into her back.
‘There, there,’ he whispered over her shoulder, trying not to make his pleasure so obvious. ‘Just let the blood seep from your body.’ He couldn’t help it then – Anarchy laughed, a soft chuckle emitting from his mouth. ‘Oh, but if you do make it through this… tell Mason that Anarchy says hello.’
In one quick, smooth motion, he pulled the knife from her body and watched her slump to the ground in a lifeless heap. With a gloved hand, he wiped the blood from the glistening steel and leapt back into the cover of darkness. From here, he had a perfect view of the body, and when Mason Black came to pick her up, Anarchy would enjoy seeing his tears.
It was perfect. A whole new plan fell into place, and like a thrilling game of lethal chess, the first move had been made. Anarchy had waited a whole year for this, and his blood surged with gleeful delight. It was an immaculate setup, an exciting game. A blood sport, with only one victor… and that would not be Mason Black.
2
Mason wanted to make amends. As of late, his career with the San Francisco Police Department had commanded his attention. But with a baby on the way and a girlfriend he wanted to turn into his fiancee, something had to change, and he knew it.
After a quick stop by the florist to pick up a bouquet (pink lilies – Diane’s favourite), Mason hopped back into the car and made his way to the bus station. He had never been so excited to reunite with anyone. It had only been a few days, but the thought of losing his girlfriend felt like a knife to the heart.
Late again, Mason arrived at the bus station just after six. He had expected Diane to be standing at the curb, tapping her toe in annoyance, perhaps a car door slam and her sexy pouty face. What he hadn’t counted on, was the terror-inducing sight of a pregnant, female body lying in the road.
Fear seized every muscle in his body. He slowed the car to a stop and, with the engine still running, Mason opened the door and dashed out. On some level, he refused to accept the visual evidence. Call it denial – a blunt dismissal of the truth, simply because he didn’t want to see it. But that didn’t change one simple fact. Diane lay in the road. Injured and still.
Leaving the car behind, Mason ran toward her. His heart pounded like a drum, his knees weak as he came closer to the figure in the road. Across the street, a couple who walked hand-in-hand stopped and watched.
‘Call 9-1-1!’ Mason yelled, before returning to his dying love. ‘Diane,’ Mason whispered. Or perhaps it didn’t come out at all. He wanted to scream. To yell at God and shake his fist toward the sky but he couldn’t push any words past his tight throat. He felt for a pulse, but came up empty. He thought that maybe he wasn’t pressing on an artery, that he was feeling in the wrong place and she would soon sit up
as if nothing had happened. All that he found was a sense of utter dread, and a sticky pool of blood under his knees.
‘Shit. No. Who did this to you, honey?’ He felt around for the point of entry, holding up her head and kissing her on the cheeks, terrified of losing her. ‘Who did this?’
It was like his question had been answered out of the ethers. From the corner of his eye, Mason spotted movement in the adjacent alleyway. The gap between the buildings was otherwise motionless, only small portholes of light bled from the tiny windows.
He didn’t think – he only drew the Beretta from its holster, lowered Diane’s head to the ground and ran blindly into the darkness. Unsure of what to expect – but no longer caring that it could be a trap – Mason crept through the eerie silence. He couldn’t see any signs of life. Nothing. But he had a sense of someone being there, like when a TV is left on inside the house and you can almost feel it from another room.
‘Police,’ he called, trying not to let emotion waver his voice. ‘Who’s there?’
No sound echoed back from the depths of the alley. Ambulance sirens screamed in the distance. Mason turned his back on the vacant darkness, looking at Diane in the road. At first he thought it was his imagination, but then she moved again – only a slight twitch of the leg.
Stowing away his gun, Mason ran toward Diane and held her. Whoever had done this had escaped, but all he could do now was contemplate why someone would do this to such a perfect person. Who would hurt the most wonderful woman in the world?
A bastard piece of shit.
And he’d find him if it was the last thing he ever did in this life.
Diane continued to bleed out in his arms, breathing now but immobile. The sirens grew louder but the seconds passed like hours. Mason’s heart raced as he stared at her, praying that this wasn’t the end.
If it was, he didn’t know what he would do.
It couldn’t end like this.
3
They’d had it all wrong. Until this moment, Mason and Diane had fantasised that the next time they’d be in a hospital they’d be snuggling their newborn baby. They had never considered for a second that Diane would be the victim of some vicious street crime. In fact, Mason had always assumed it would be him who took a knife to the back – being a homicide detective didn’t allow for making many friends. Not criminal ones, anyway.
Mason watched the door. The woman he loved was on the other side, slowly slipping into death’s cold embrace. He had been here for twenty-four sleepless hours, and would stay for another twenty-four if he needed to. There was no way he was leaving her. No way he could be anywhere else, pretending that everything was okay.
‘Dad.’
The voice came from behind him. Mason turned, crooking his stiff neck to look over the back of the waiting-room chair. When he saw Amy – his sixteen-year-old daughter – he smiled for the first time in days.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, getting up to hold her in his arms.
‘I heard what happened,’ she said, burying her cheek into his chest.
‘How?’
‘Uh… Bill told Evie. Evie told me. I got on the next plane home.’ Amy pulled away and looked up at him. She looked more like an adult every day – her deep blue eyes gaining wisdom, her wavy blonde hair being cut and styled regularly. Mason didn’t miss the days when he’d have to hold the screaming girl down, apologising to the hairdresser. She just wouldn’t sit still, even for a lollipop.
‘How’s Evie doing?’
‘She’s okay,’ Amy said, taking a seat and blowing out a long, deep breath. ‘Work is busy and she couldn’t make it here, but she sends her love.’
Mason smiled. A tight grin that resembled a baring of teeth. He loved that his sister was creating her own future in New York. In the year since she’d been away, he had only been to visit her once. If he got a chance, he would put that to rights. But that day seemed far away. Right now, it felt like he was trapped in a bubble that he couldn’t break out of.
‘How was your trip?’ he asked.
‘It was…’
Before she could answer, the door to Diane’s room opened. A doctor stepped out, and Mason rushed to his feet, studying his expression for information. His paranoia helped him to read a thousand different thoughts; hope, dismay, sympathy.
None of them seemed more obvious than the other. ‘How is she?’
‘I’m afraid she’s not doing well,’ the doctor said, coming to stand with them. Relatively young, he seemed almost too young to be a doctor. He had thick, wavy hair and puppy-dog eyes. It looked like he was only barely done being a teen heartthrob. ‘She is awake, but we don’t know for how long.’
Mason pictured her laying there, weak and frightened. He shivered. ‘And the baby?’
‘It’s hard to say at this point.’
‘Your best guess.’
The doctor shrugged. ‘If she comes out of this, the baby should too. But that is a guess, so don’t quote me on that. I’ll let you know as soon as anything changes. Look, you can go in and see her if you like. Just one of you, and only for a couple of minutes – I don’t want to unsettle her.’
Mason turned to Amy, who already pushed him in the direction of the door. ‘Go.’
But she didn’t have to tell him twice.
‘Thank you,’ he said. Mason stood by the door, took a deep breath and entered the room. Every ounce of doubt and fear whispered that this would be the last time he would see her.
4
Even standing at the doors of death, Diane looked so beautiful. Her dark skin looked smooth as ever, her perfect cascade of black hair floated over her shoulders. Although her eyes were only barely open, they sparkled with that same greenish shine they always had.
Mason could barely find the words. As much as he despised violence, he would give anything to crack the skull of whoever did this to her and watch their criminal brain seep out into a puddle underneath them.
‘You look… incredible,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her. He took her hand and squeezed it as if doing so could breathe strength into her frail body. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like death,’ Diane said, ‘but I’ll be okay.’
‘I’m so sorry this happened.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘But if I had been there…’
Diane shook her head. ‘No. I…’ Her breathing became deep, desperate. ‘I have to tell you something. The person who did this…’
Mason squeezed her hand a little harder, tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Try not to talk. Let’s just get you through this, and then we will find who’s responsible.’
‘You don’t understand. It was him.’
The realisation of her attacker’s identity hit him square in the chest like a wrecking ball. His hands began to sweat and tremble. He jumped up and walked to the window, so as not to let her know the depth of his terror. Looking out over the lit parking lot, he chose his words with care. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive,’ Diane said.
‘How do you know?’
‘He told me. Honey, he wanted you to know it was him.’
The door popped open behind him. Mason spun to face the doctor, who leaned in with his hand still on the knob. ‘Time’s up, Mr Black. Miss Palmer needs her rest.’
‘Just a minute.’ Mason returned to Diane’s side and leaned in to her ear. ‘I’ll find him.’
‘Don’t,’ Diane said. ‘Just stay out of this one. He’s dangerous. Deadly.’
‘No.’ He lowered his head, his eyes meeting hers. ‘I’m going to find him. After that, I’ll leave law enforcement altogether, okay? No more police work, no more private investigations. We can invest in a… I don’t know – a sandwich shop or something.’
‘A sandwich shop?’ Diane said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
‘Or whatever. Point is, I’m going to be around for you and the baby.’ Mason moved around the b
ed and kissed her on the head. ‘You have my word.’
‘Just be careful.’
It hurt to leave her, but he didn’t have a choice. A new trail would have to be uncovered. Every resource he could procure would be vital if he wanted to find this guy. But all Mason could think of was the last time, when the killer had outsmarted him and nearly murdered his family. Now, he was getting even closer – too close for comfort.
Stood in the hospital corridor, with Amy looking away from him, Mason produced the cell phone from his pocket and called his partner.
‘Hey. What’s up, pal?’
‘It’s him,’ Mason said without hesitation.
‘Who?’ Detective Bill Harvey said in a clipped tone, sensing alarm.
‘Anarchy. He’s back.’
5
Before sunrise, Anarchy woke up with the prostitute laying against his solid chest. Before long, she would awaken and demand payment for her services. He always hated that part, but it didn’t matter this time – he would deal with things his own way.
He snuck out of bed and into the living room, where the breeze from the open window seeped through and tickled his bare chest. All night he had wondered what was going on in the Black household, and now was the time to find out.
The simple press of a few buttons, and Anarchy’s eyes were assaulted by the brightness of the screens. There were a total of six monitors, each one keeping watch over a different room of Mason Black’s home. The bedroom cameras reported disturbing images – he had never been one for perversity, and although many would argue that indulging in prostitution disputed that, Anarchy would always insist that it was a perfectly natural business deal.
‘Jacob?’
Anarchy craned his neck to look at the bedroom, where the filthy little slut was beginning to stir. ‘Be right there,’ he said, grinning at the false name he had given her. Jacob Silver, he thought. Rolls right off the tongue.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 55