Page 47 of Hidden Obsession

Chapter Twenty-One

Mason wasslick with sweat as he tried to contort his body into inching closer toward the metal covered wall, making the chair he was bound to slide maddeningly slow. Ears on any noise coming from outside the room, praying for Travis to get killed in a road accident so Cleo would be safe. Mason wasn’t delusional, only desperate.

Feeling the cold sheet of metal against his forearm, he twisted a little so his fingers could sense the seams, checking for any kink or defect that would produce a sharp edge. He needed to be patient and thorough, focus on what he could with his fingertips, which wasn’t much.

He shuffled again and looked down, following one seam and saw a kink in the metal near the floor.

There wasn’t any other choice but to get on the floor, and once down, Mason knew he would never be able to get back up unless he cut himself free.

It took some strength to make the chair move back and forward in a rocking motion, but he used his core muscles to eventually make the chair tip backward. The shock rattled his bones, and his head felt like it was split open when it hit the concrete floor, but he didn’t care and shimmied until the side of his palm touched the wall.

Unable to look in his current position, Mason knew he had found what he was looking for when the metal started slicing through his skin on the side of his hand.

It was an awkward movement that cut a lot more flesh than tape, but he could live with that. Ignoring the pain and the trickling blood, his only focus was on the very subtle and restrained movement that cut one fiber at a time, at a frustratingly slow pace.

Every time he was about to yell in frustration or lose hope, Mason conjured Cleo in his mind, and her image was enough to bolster his courage and made the suffering and fear take a back seat.

He had to get free from this chair and escape. Cleo had to be alive and well, protected by his team. He couldn’t live with any other possibility.

It took time, or maybe it was the blood making his wrist slick against the tape, but it seemed as if he could move a little more. Mason poured all of his energy into pulling against the tape, hoping sheer muscle strength would tear it. His arm throbbing like a bitch from the effort, Mason ground his teeth as he suppressed a groan of agony.

“I should have known you would try something like that. After all, you are one of the most intelligent men I know.”

Travis’ voice reverberated through Mason’s head and he thought he was hallucinating until his former friend’s blond head came into view. “Apart from hurting yourself, there wasn’t a chance you’d free yourself before I came back. You knew I wasn’t going to leave you alone for long.”

Mason’s heart was in his throat as Travis walked behind him, pulling the chair away from the wall before checking his wrist. If he’s back what does that mean for Cleo?

“Thank goodness you didn’t cut yourself worse. That was a dumb move, man. I don’t have a first aid kit, but that can’t be helped. I’ll tend to your wound then we’ll be on the move.”

When the words sank in, Mason got his voice back. “What do you mean, move?”

Travis walked to the desk and pulled one of the drawers open, lifting the roll of duct tape, an amused smile on his face. “You didn’t think we would live here, did you?”

Live together? The more Mason let him talk, the more he saw the extent of his mental state.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Mace. I have everything planned now I’ve tied all the loose ends.” Mason couldn’t think about what he was implying. Travis whistled as he circled his bloody wrist with some more tape. “I think I’ll leave you on the floor like this for the time being, until I’m ready for us to leave.”

But Mason’s head was reeling. “What loose ends?”

When Travis locked gazes with him, part adoring, part sad, Mason wondered if he would survive the answer his blond captor was about to give him.

“You knew sacrifices were necessary.”

Mason shook his head, lungs burning with tears and despair.

“In time, you’ll understand everything I’ve done for you and all will become clear.”

Mason almost didn’t feel Travis touch his hair as if both caressing and replacing each strand, but he needed to hear it. The words had to be said for him to process them. “Travis, what have you done to Cleo?”

Travis shook his head, a sincere air of regret on his face. “She was a nice woman. But you deserve better than nice, Mace. So much more.”

Mason couldn’t see or hear him anymore, he felt like he was underwater. Disconnected. Cleo couldn’t be gone, he would sense it in his bones if she was. Or was it the disappearance of the love of his life that made him want to die, his soul felt empty. He had failed Cleo. He was supposed to protect her, and he had let her down. All those images of her, her sweet smile, warm skin, and enticing perfume were now gone from this world because of him.

Travis moved, but it looked as if everything was in slow motion.

“I thought it would affect you, but don’t worry, the grief will disappear soon. Fortunately, I thought you would be overwhelmed, so I came prepared.”

Mason didn’t react when Travis took something out of his pocket. He didn’t care. Nothing was worthwhile anymore, so when Travis injected his arm with a syringe, Mason closed his eyes and hoped this hell would be over soon. Hopefully forever.