The Red Thread

Chapter 32

Time freezes as I lock eyes with him – Mason Laurent, the tormentor from a past I've fought hard to escape. My breath quickens, panic flooding every fiber of my being. His presence is a haunting specter, and the carefully constructed walls around my past threaten to crumble.

Mason's chilling words cut through the silence like a knife. "Long time no see, belle," he sneers, a creepy smile etching across his face. The nickname, a twisted reminder of a dark past, sends a shiver down my spine.

My eyes dart around the dimly lit corridor, desperation guiding my search for something, anything, that could serve as a makeshift weapon. The shadows seem to close in as my hands find a heavy paperweight on a nearby desk. Clutching it tightly, I steel myself for whatever twisted game Mason has in store.

Mason tsk-tsks, his sinister amusement evident. "A paperweight, really?" he mocks, his gaze lingering on the makeshift weapon in my hands. "Do you think that could hurt me, belle?"The air grows heavier as Mason's words slice through the tension. "How could you get married to another man when I love you so much, belle?" he sneers, his possessiveness oozing with a toxic fervor.

With a facade of strength, I retort, "Love? Mason, what you have isn't love. It's a sick obsession. I married Asher because he's the one who truly cares for me, not some twisted version of affection you harbor." My defiance seems to fan the flames of his anger. Mason clenches his fists at his sides, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Don't provoke me, belle," he hisses, the veneer of control slipping away.

I stand my ground, a thin veil of courage masking the fear within. "Your threats won't work anymore, Mason. I'm not the scared girl you used to manipulate," I retort, my voice steadier than I feel.

Mason's sinister chuckle sends a chill down my spine. "You belong to me, belle, and only me," he declares with a possessive fervor. The delusion in his words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the distorted reality he's crafted in his obsession.

In a surge of desperation, I hurl the paperweight towards Mason, a futile attempt to break free from his looming presence. But he dodges it with an unsettling ease, the paperweight crashing into the darkness. Before I can make a run for it, he seizes me by the hair, his grip unforgiving.

"You can't escape from me again, belle," Mason sneers, the twisted satisfaction evident in his voice. I try to resist, to fight back, and in a desperate attempt, I swing my hand towards him. The futile gesture only serves to escalate his anger.

Hissing with pain, I manage to muster the words, "Stop calling me Belle."His reply hangs in the air, a suffocating reminder of the twisted reality he inhabits. "You'll always be my belle, no matter what you say," Mason retorts, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

The sound of Joshua calling me by my name—a lifeline in the darkness. "Audrey, are you there?" His voice, a comforting presence, propels me to shout louder, "Joshua, help me!" The sting of Mason's slap lingers on my cheek, a painful reminder of the darkness surrounding me. As if that's not enough, he produces a hand knife, its glint ominous in the dim light. Fear tightens its grip as he points it towards my neck.

In a flicker of hope, Joshua strides towards us, a determined presence cutting through the suffocating tension. "Drop the knife" he commands, his voice unwavering.Mason's response drips with defiance. "Nobody can separate her from me this time," he sneers, his delusion casting a chilling shadow over the desperate plea for sanity.

With a surge of desperate strength, I elbow Mason in the stomach, a fleeting moment of defiance that extracts a small cut on my neck. The pain is a minor price for a chance at freedom. But before I can reach Joshua's safety, Mason retaliates with a sinister throw. The knife finds its mark, penetrating into Joshua's shoulder.

Thrown to the floor with brutal force, pain courses through me as Mason delivers a merciless kick to my stomach. The air is knocked out of my lungs, and every gasp feels like a desperate attempt to reclaim breath amid the ruthless assault.

Stretched on the cold floor, immobilized by the searing pain, I grapple with the throbbing ache in my head. Every attempt to move is met with a wave of agony, and the world blurs into a disorienting haze.

As the sounds of chaos echo in the corridor, a rush of relief washes over me as Asher, Christian, and Liam storm into the scene. Fueled by a surge of protective fury, they unleash a barrage of strikes against Mason.

Amidst the chaotic fray, Joshua's urgent call pierces through the tumult. "Asher, help her!" Asher rushes towards me, gathering me into his arms with a tenderness that contrasts the recent brutality. "You'll be fine," he reassures, the warmth of his words a balm against the residual fear.

In the fragile aftermath, nestled in Asher's arms, I whisper, "I thought I wouldn't see you again." Asher's voice, a soothing anchor in the turmoil, replies, "I'm here, and I'll always be here for you."

As darkness closes in, I find solace in my favorite refuge – Asher's arms. His frantic voice echoes, shouting my name in the fading haze before unconsciousness claims me. The world dissolves into shadows, and I surrender to the embrace of oblivion, the chaos of the night fading into an eerie stillness.