The Cunning

96

Jase stood in the bedroom doorway, Madison was on the bed. Her lip had stopped bleeding, the coagulated blood glassy over broken skin and bruises formed across her body, creating shadows where shadows shouldn't be. Visible blue handprints had emerged on her upper arms where Adam had dragged her, kicking and screaming, downstairs.

"Madison," he said softly. She didn't respond, didn't blink, barely breathed. He carefully lowered himself onto the bed, ensuring each movement was purposefully slow and unthreatening. Still, she flinched when he tucked her sweat-soaked hair behind her ear. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured.

"I didn't know," she whispered, a helpless broken record.

"I know." She was in a state of shock, no shape to answer any questions. It was likely she would grow hysterical if he applied too much pressure. "We'll talk about it another time. Right now, we need to get you cleaned up so the burns don't get infected. I'm going to run you a bath, okay?" He wasn't looking for a reply and he didn't get one.

The taps squeaked as Jase turned them, sending water pounding down into the tub. He tipped in some bubble bath and swirled the water around, making sure it wasn't too hot. Not that it would make a difference to Madison, Adam had beat the sensation out of her.

When the bath was half full, he helped her down the hallway, leaving her to get undressed whilst he went to find a fresh flannel. She sat in the water, holding her knees to her chest, her body trembling despite the warm water.

Jase perched on the edge of the tub, wetting the flannel and taking one of her arms. He dabbed over the burns, studying her reaction through his lashes. She jerked at first, but made no further complaints as he washed the ash and blood from the burn blisters, confirming her numbness. Defeat made a decent anesthetic.

"I didn't know," she said again.

Jase cleared his throat, trying to suppress the compression in his ribcage at the broken timbre of her words. He didn't say anything, wringing out the ashy flannel and delicately wiping away the blood crusting over her lips. He used a beaker to wet her hair, crisp with sweat and matted with more blood, taking his time to properly rinse the shampoo and conditioner he'd applied.

Madison didn't cry, she didn't make another noise. The lights were on, but no one was home. Considering what she'd already been through, Jase could only imagine what Adam had done to turn her into this.

"Come on," he coaxed tenderly, pulling a towel from the heated rail and standing up.

She sat on the bed as Jase retrieved a hoodie and joggers from the wardrobe. Once she was dressed, he sat behind her, gathering her long hair and working the brush through the ends, then the middle, then from the root down.

"Get some sleep," he said. Madison followed his order mechanically, laying her damp head on the pillow. Jase turned the lamp on and the big light off on his way out.

The others were still in the living room, their conversation stopping abruptly when he walked in. He didn't pry, there was only one thing they would have been discussing. He lit a cigarette, sitting in the armchair.

"If Adam comes back into this house, he won't be leaving alive," he said, emotionless. There was something immediately relieving about smoking, giving himself something to do.

"Did she say anything?" Sam asked,

"She's not in any state to talk right now," Jase waved his hand over his face, "there's nothing there." The bruises would fade, her lip would heal but Madison was unlikely to be the same again. They had finally made an impact and Jase wanted nothing more than to take it back.

"What do you reckon the story is?" Kieran questioned. Jase shrugged. He hadn't thought that far ahead, only now calming down from the fury he felt towards Adam.

"Could be anything. I know Madison isn't a total stranger to people like us. She's too clued up, and from the sounds of her dad, this kind of thing isn't a far cry from home. It's no shock she knows someone in this line of work."

To say Madison was 'no stranger to' and 'too clued up' concerning their business and their clientele was an understatement. After spending an unprecedented amount of time alone with and observing her, Jase knew now Madison wasn't smart. It was more than that, it always had been.

She was trained. Not like other girls in their circle, taught to be seen and not heard, but trained like Jase.

Madison measured every risk against the reward, constantly evaluating her surroundings. She never played a full hand or revealed her arsenal in its entirety. She picked locks, fixed guns, suggested Chelsea smiles as negative reinforcement. She delivered headbutts like farewell kisses and tended to lacerations with the skill of a registered nurse. Madison was not, and never had been, the helpless little girl they treated her as.

The bullet points on her character reassured Jase he was right to take her word over Adam's. Picture or no picture, Mitch wasn't someone she would affiliate herself with in the personal way Adam had insinuated. Mitch was sloppy, short-tempered and egotistic. There was more to their unlikely acquaintance than the picture disclosed.

"Do you reckon she is friends with Mitch?" Sam continued, pulling Jase out of his inner-monologue.

Jase picked up Adam's 'evidence', examining the faces. There were two lines obscuring the image, one down the middle and a crease one third into the photo, its tinged yellow fibers giving it a furry feel. The fold cropped Madison out of the picture.

Jase shook his head.

"They weren't friends."