There were things I had to establish. First of all, I needed to know where he’d taken me. Where the hell I was. Then I could make a plan to escape. And I needed to find out why he’d taken me. Was he keeping me here for Stuart? What was his plan?
You need to stay calm. Don’t make him angry.
The last time I’d angered Mason, he’d hurt me. The risk of it happening again was far too great. I had to keep a level head. Had to keep him onside until I made my move.
“Where are we?” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
“Home.”
“Home?”
“Mmm, yes, home, Scar. Do you like it? I decorated it especially for you.”
My eyes roamed around the space, finding everything was exactly my style. And it made me feel worse. So much fucking worse because I didn’t like it all. I hated it. Everything about this situation was horrifying.
“It’s nice… but where is home exactly?”
“Look out the window.”
I didn’t know if I was allowed to get up from the table, but when I looked back at him, the man was smiling at me. He waved towards the patio doors to our right. Slowly, I rose from the chair and walked over to it. My eyes darted around the landscape, finding we were set off a little way back from the edge of a cliff. And beyond that? It was the sea. A very rough sea. The waves were high with whitecaps, and the water looked grey. Rain battered against the glass as a storm raged outside, but I couldn’t see anything else near us.
We were on the coast somewhere. And we were isolated.
Fuck. Oh… oh fuck!
“Mason, where are we?”
This time, I couldn’t keep the rising alarm out of my voice.
“The northwest coast of Scotland.”
My stomach was on the floor in a matter of seconds. Mason had basically taken me as far away from my boys as we could get without leaving the country.
“And this place is yours?”
“Ours, and yes, I bought it five years ago. I finished redecorating it earlier this year, so it was ready for you.”
I turned around and met his eyes.
“Ready for me?”
Then I remembered what Stuart had told me. How he intended to hand me off to Mason like I was a prize for his loyalty. A fucking trophy.
“Yes, this is our home, Scar.”
He said it like it was something I should have known already. And it was the creepiest fucking thing I’d ever heard come out of his mouth. This man had bought this place with the sole intention of bringing me here and keeping me under lock and key. Of that, I was certain.
“Mason, this is…” It’s creepy. It’s so fucking creepy. “Really lovely of you. Thank you.”
His smile made me want to throw up.
“I’m so happy you like it. Now, sit back down.”
I did as he said on automatic. If I did anything sudden right now, I didn’t think it would end well for me. My mind was rioting, rebelling against everything I was seeing and hearing. This wasn’t Stuart’s doing at all. Mason had taken me for his own reasons.
He’s obsessed with you.
I realised it was probably hypocritical of me to be alarmed by Mason’s obsessiveness when West was obsessed with me too. However, I’d grown up with West. I knew him inside out. He wasn’t a threat to me. He’d killed for me, and he would do it again. In fact, I was relatively sure this would be the final straw when it came to Mason, regardless of the fact his father was the Met Police Commissioner.
Besides, I was in love with West. Even after he told me about his diagnosis, it didn’t change my feelings. He might be a little psychotic, but I could see how the past had shaped him. How guilt had eaten him up inside. To me, he wasn’t crazy or lacking remorse or empathy. He had those two things in spades… for me. No one outside of me and the boys knew the truth of the night I’d fallen. They didn’t understand him. I did.
Fuck, I miss you. My heart burns for you. All of you.
Mason brought over a cup of tea for me, along with French toast with apples and cinnamon. I didn’t want him to think I was ungrateful, so I thanked him. It was one of my favourites, and I couldn’t fault him for it. He sat down across from me and watched me eat. It tasted like ash in my mouth. Only because this whole situation had me on edge.
“Good?” he asked me after I’d finished, having forced the food down. I needed to keep my strength up.
“Yes, thank you.”
He gave me a smile, getting up and collecting my dishes. I watched him walk into the kitchen.
“Um… is it okay if I have a shower?”