The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone

by D H Sidebottom

  “George.” I rolled my lips, wondering how to voice what I needed to say for him to see sense. “Are you telling me that your mother was never a good mom?”

  “Eh?” He stared at me in surprise. “Of course mum’s been a good parent.”

  I nodded slowly, “Yet she came off the streets. She killed and stole to survive. She’s since killed and stole. And she married into my family, but I’ll tell you something, I have never witnessed a woman with as much love as your mother has for you and Katie. Just because she has a rough background doesn’t make her a bad mother.”

  “I know that.”

  “Yet you chose to believe it of Etta. You think that because of what her parents were that doesn’t give her the right to be a mum.” I prodded his chest, my anger now surging at his foolishness. “In which case that doesn’t give you the right to be a dad, because your mother and I are far from innocent in this fucked up world.”

  He squared up to me, his face tight and angry as he for the first time rid himself of the hatred he had for me. “Wrong, dad. You are the guilty one in this fucked up world, you just dragged my mother along with you, destroyed her innocence along with everything else in your path.”

  I laughed at him, shaking my head in humour at his blindness. “You have no idea, George. About me, your mother, her life or even mine, so before you point the finger, you really ought to see things as they fucking are!”

  “And what’s that?” he spat as he pushed at me. “If the truth is so different from how I see it, then tell me. Fucking TELL ME!”

  I was battling with my wrath. I couldn’t ever let it loose on George but right at that moment he needed to see how life was, like it or hate it, it was still life and it still held many secrets and truths that obliterated our fantasies and hopes.

  “Come on,” he prodded further. “Tell me what can possibly turn the tables on your guilt. You took my mother, and you turned her into a monster.”

  “YES!” I roared at him as I slammed him against the door. “But your fucking mother tore out my heart and spat on it.” I let rip, giving a few home truths he needed to hear. “She took my love and trampled it into the fucking floor when she slept with my brother-in-law just hours after I’d asked her to marry me. She took my love and she fucking laughed at it whilst she fucked another man.”

  I closed my eyes as shock covered my son’s face, his breathing silent as he daren’t breathe in case my words penetrated and made them real. “Yes,” I whispered harshly. “Yes I made her a monster, but she made me into something far worse.”

  I pushed him out of the way but turned back to him before I left. He didn’t look at me, just kept his gaze trained on the floor.

  “She turned me into a man with a broken soul who had nothing left to lose in life. But even then, even though she moulded me into something that the devil himself would love to become, even then I still love her. I still can’t breathe without her, I still can’t live without her in my life.”

  He finally looked at me, his eyes sad and full of an ache. “And still I know I will die if I ever lost her. I will give up my right to breathe just to see a smile on her beautiful face. I will forfeit my own right to smile if it grants her another hour with me, another second in my arms, because despite what you think, George, love is a powerful thing but sometimes, it’s just that little bit too unhealthy.”

  I left him staring after me as I went in search of my wife, a monster I had created but an angel I would follow into hell with.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Frustration

  Ava

  THE SLOW DRIP of water that echoed around me opposed the frantic pace my heart was hammering at, its laborious rhythm trying to soothe the velocity raging inside my chest.

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew what I would find, the damp smell streaming up my nostrils and the subdued light filtering through my eyes told me everything I needed to about my current prison.

  My ears were on high alert, listening and seeking for sounds that would help me at least attempt to formulate some sort of plan whilst my nose endeavoured to search for any unusual smells that could give me an idea of where we were being held.

  Rebecca’s moans and weeping didn’t help my situation and I desperately tried to block her out of my concentration but she, as usual, was prominent and irritating.

  “Rebecca!” I grated out as I turned in her direction and finally opened my eyes, “Will you shut the hell up!”

  She stared at me, her eyes wide and wet, mascara trails streaking her face as her endless tears painted her face like some freak. That made sense. She was a bloody freak.

  Her body was trembling as she sat with her back slumped against a metal pillar, her bound hands were above her head secured to the post and her knees were drawn up to her chest defensively.

  “W. .what’s going o. .on?” She hiccupped as she sobbed out each word.

  I rolled my eyes and slid my gaze slowly around the room. “I have no idea, that’s what I’m trying to work out and your incessant whinging is not helping me concentrate.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I tutted and sighed as I mentally went through each specific point of Mason’s training. One exit door, no obstacles in the path from my position to the door. One small window, maybe wide enough for a body to slip through, although it was high up, almost adjacent to the ceiling. There were possible available weapons, one pipe that directed the water to the single tap in the corner of the room and a few chains, one which hung above Rebecca’s head. I smirked at that possibility.

  Daylight shone through the window which told me it didn’t lead onto a street or alleyway and blue sky was visible, telling me we probably hadn’t been out for too long, night hadn’t descended yet.

  I could smell a hint of oil and metal, a trace of manure and quite a heavy load of fresh grass, leaving me to consider the area to be slightly rural but somewhere where maybe cars or something mechanical was involved. Maybe a farm or an old working garage.

  The room was bare except for the support structures Rebecca and I were secured to. A few chains hung from the ceiling in random spots and of course, the dripping tap in the corner of the room. The door was metal, causing me slight bother when I knew I’d never be able to penetrate it but the small window in it would alert me when we had visitors.

  “Can you move?” I asked Rebecca eventually.

  “Are you fucking stupid? Does it look like I can move?”

  I grit my teeth together and prayed for some sanity. I would never survive an hour with her, never mind how long we were actually going to be detained for. “I meant have you any leverage on your post?”

  “What?” she curled her lip and looked at me as though I was asking her to tap dance naked with One Direction.

  “Is—your—post—weak—enough—to—yank?”

  Good Grief!

  I licked at my dry lips, giving my mouth something to do other that spit hatred at her. She finally pulled at the structure but it remained firm. “Shit.”

  I looked around, searching frantically for something, anything to help us get out but nothing offered that option. We were there for the duration. Rebecca and I were together for the duration. I wanted to wrap that chain around my neck and do myself in. Fuck the cancer, Rebecca would finally pop me off.

  “Is there anyone that would want to hurt you?” I asked her, the list of available answers already forming in my head.

  ME

  ME

  ME

  ME

  ME

  ME

  “Whatever you might think, Ava. I don’t have enemies.”

  I screwed my lips tightly together and nodded firmly, “No,” I replied seriously. “Of course you don’t.”

  “And what the fuck do you mean by that?” she hissed, venom spewing from her with every syllable as her eyes fired daggers across the room at me.

  “Well, you’re not exactly the nicest of people.”

  “Says her.” She huffed.


  “Oh my God, Rebecca.” I shook my head sadly. “How old are you?”

  “Bollocks, bitch.”

  “I rest my case.” I sighed and tapped at the column my wrists were attached to with my fingers, giving something other than the fuck whore’s annoying screech to focus on.

  “Well, have you asked yourself that question?” she smirked at me.

  I sighed as the image of sudden superpowers being bestowed on me came to mind and I mentally visualised yanking the metal support from the ceiling and swinging it in her direction, severing her ugly fucking head in one swipe. I pouted when she remained in one piece and smiling that grotesque bloody grimace of hers.

  “All the time, Rebecca. All the bloody time.”

  “Well, I rest my case then.”

  “You know when I get out of here,” I growled across the room at her. “I am so giving you my middle finger on my way out.”

  She sneered at me as she tried her bonds once more, struggling with them, her body and arms yanking at them furiously.

  “You’ll either burn the skin on your wrists doing that, or you’ll pull a muscle in your arm.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Right now, that is such a better option.” I retorted with a snarl.

  “My God,” she screeched. “I’m gonna go mad if I have to spend my last breaths in the same room as you.”

  “I can make that a lot quicker for you if you wish.”

  She sighed then pouted childishly as she gave in and relaxed again. “I should have finished you years ago,” she declared.

  I started chuckling at that thought, which then turned to laughter and then full on hysterics. My belly hurt at the humour with her announcement. “Finish me years ago . . .” I sniggered, “That is the funniest shit I’ve heard in years.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’ve finally gone mad.”

  I nodded to her, “I think I may have. I’m actually laughing at one of your jokes.”

  “Oh just fuck off Ava.”

  I laughed harder. I couldn’t help it, I think I had gone slightly mad. The thought of spending any more time with the bitch had sent me crazy, giving me something other than horror to focus on.

  We both froze when the door opened and a tall light haired man stood in the doorway. I didn’t have chance to engrain his features to memory before I spotted the syringe he held in each hand.

  “Oh no.” I said as I scurried backwards in a wasted effort to draw myself away from him.

  Rebecca started to cry again, her high pitched wails hurting my ear drums before the guy put me out of my misery and sent me to oblivion with some shit he injected into my veins.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Fear

  Mason

  “YOU OKAY?” LAYLA asked as she deposited a cup of coffee beside me. I turned to look at her. Her face was pale, her eyes dull and sad as she gave me a sombre smile. She sighed heavily when I shrugged.

  “I’m not sure really,” I told her honestly. Most of me was going slightly crazy, a burning inside that I couldn’t douse as the fear crippled me. She fiddled with my hair as was usual for my best friend, her fingers trying to tame the wild few strands that obstinately fell the opposite way to the rest of my hair. “I’m scared shitless. I’m terrified for both her and Bec, Bec more so cos’ if I know Ava, it will be her that kills her before their captors do.” Layla smiled and flicked her eyebrows in agreement. “But then there’s this part of my heart that knows Ava will survive this.” I swallowed and grabbed Layla’s hand, holding on tightly to her. “Is that wrong?”

  “Is what wrong?” She asked as her pretty face gazed at me in confusion.

  “That I’m not as worried as I should be.”

  She exhaled heavily and sighed noisily. “Nope. If anyone knows how Ava will be handling this, it’s you. She’s resilient and tough and although it’s awful to say, she’s been through worse than a couple of people locking her up.”

  “With Rebecca” I added with a smirk.

  “Ah,” Layla chuckled. “Yes, that in itself may be trouble.”

  “So no joy with Etta?” she stated as she plonked on the sofa beside me.

  “Nope, she seems to have disappeared along with Ava.”

  “Are you sure it’s her?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t ever sure who in cases like this but I always relied on my instinct and it had usually never been far wrong. “Nothing else springs to mind. She’s angry, I get that, George is trying to take away her life, Ava and I ruined her life to start with . . .”

  “You didn’t ruin her life, her parents did that all by themselves when they started trafficking girls and picked on the wrong people.”

  “Yeah. Me.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Do you think life will ever settle down?”

  She patted my cheek as she lifted herself up, “You are Mason Fox and you wouldn’t have it any other way.” She winked when I chuckled then left the room as Debora walked in.

  “Hey,” I smiled at her. She looked exhausted, her thick brown hair limp, her skin washed-out and full of blemishes, her lips sore from where she had chewed on them frantically.

  I stilled when she sat next to me, lifted my arm and snuggled into me, her arms curling around me as she sought comfort. “He won’t talk to me, Mr Fox.”

  “George? And please call me Mason, Debora, I’ve told you before.”

  She nodded and sighed as we both stared through the window. “I’ve told him that he can do things properly, you know through the courts and that to gain access to Jamie the proper way instead of just whipping him from under Etta, but he says that’s not enough, he wants full custody.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “It’s not that, I don’t mind bringing him up with George but I don’t think it’s right the way he’s doing it. It’s not fair on Etta, and it’s certainly not fair on Jamie, he needs his mum . . . we all need our mum’s.”

  I gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her hair. The poor girl had had an awful upbringing, shipped from uncle to uncle, fighting for her mother’s attention. In some ways I wished that I had been her dad, maybe I could have given her more of a stable childhood but it hadn’t been . . . it never had.

  “Do you . . .” she gulped heavily as tears choked her throat. “Do you think she’ll come back?”

  I closed my eyes as her distress burrowed deep within me, her despair now mine. “I don’t know, Debora. I can’t lie to you and say that she will because I don’t know.” I held her tighter, “But I can tell you that Ava will do her all to get them out of there alive.”

  “Yeah?” she scoffed. “Even my mother?”

  I smiled secretly. “Even your mother.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Underestimated

  Ava

  “GOD, I NEED to wee.”

  “Good luck with that.” Rebecca huffed as she wriggled on her own backside. “I’ve needed one for the last few hours. But the bastards have just left us here to rot . . . and piss ourselves.”

  I sighed, “Well you’d think they’d appreciate we’re women.”

  “Do you always have to be so sarcastic?”

  I rolled my eyes as I shifted position and tried to alleviate the pressure on my bladder. “Whatever, Rebecca. I’m too tired to fight with you.”

  “Well, wonders never cease. You always want to fight with me; the chemo must have shrivelled your bitchiness.”

  “Fuck you, you heartless bitch.”

  “Ooh,” she murmured as she smirked at me. “Have I hit a nerve? By the way, loving the new hairstyle.”

  I blew out a slow breath, wondering if my death could be any more torturous than this shit. She tipped her head and studied me with a slight incline to her eyebrows. “What?” I asked with an irritated sigh.

  “It’s blonde.”

  I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, new growth, completely new colour and texture.”

  She
pursed her lips and nodded faintly, “Well, it suits you.”

  “Eh?”

  “Your hair,” she gestured to my head with a tilt of her chin, “I like the colour. It’s kind of a really light copper blush, but with blonde streaks. It might be something I’d consider doing to mine.”

  “What?”

  She squinted at me. “My God, are you always this stupid? I—like—your—hair. It gives you a pixie appearance too. Makes your chin more prominent and defines your cheekbones.”

  For Christ’s sake.

  “Right.”

  She shifted again as her toilet needs began causing her problems. “Ava, I’m just gonna wee in a minute.”

  “Go for it,” I sighed. “I’m sure we’ll be here long enough for it to dry out.”

  “Oh don’t say that,” she whimpered.

  I shrugged and rested the back of my head on the metal support behind me, closing my eyes to try and gain some concentration. We’d been there ages and the only person we’d seen was the guy that put us to sleep. It wasn’t making sense.

  “I’m scared.”

  I opened an eye and peered at Rebecca. Her eyes were full of fear, tears rimming over and spilling down her cheeks as she looked at me. I nodded; it was all I could do. “I know.”

  “Are you?” she asked quietly.

  “Yeah,” I answered with a nod. “Yeah, I am. I can’t seem to get a hint at anything.”

  “A hint?” she asked as her gaze roamed the room.

  “Yeah, something that will help me understand the situation, why we’re here and who is doing this.”

  She nodded then groaned as she shifted again. “If I ask who you’ve upset you’ll take it the wrong way.”

  I scoffed but nodded, “Yeah, that’s a possibility.”

  She huffed and smiled to herself. “I’d say it’s a given. If you weren’t here with me I’d have said it was you doing it to me, but you are so that’s out.”

  “Well done, Miss Marple.”

  She glared at me but then something miraculous happened . . . her lips twitched and she smiled at me. Fuck, life was all wrong. Everything was upside down and inside out. I didn’t like it. It made me nervous and wary. “Don’t smile at me Rebecca, it makes me nervous.”