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Madison's injuries were worse the following morning. It felt as though she was dragged down the road attached to someone's tow-bar. The appearance of the girl in the mirror reflected the extent of her pain honestly in the dappled complexion of her swollen face.

Her eyelids were purple, puffing out and forcing them half closed. Handprints muddied her arms and wrists, cigarette burns embroidered her flesh, leading down to the red bracelets the zip-tie had torn into her flesh. The left side of her jaw had a golf-ball sized protrusion and the split on her lip had started to weep again.

Wincing with every movement, Madison scraped her hair back to inspect the damage. Her scalp still ached from Adam yanking her around by the roots when he finally lost it with her laughing, slamming into her repeatedly with his bony fist. One had bust her nose, the other had torn the inside of her cheek against her teeth. Once her face was numb, he'd picked up the cigarettes. Nothing was funny after that.

There was a fleeting memory of Kieran trying to step in at that point but Madison couldn't blame him for quickly backing down when Adam locked eyes with him. He was an animal in the middle of a frenzy and anyone that got in his way would suffer. The only way he would stop was if someone stronger physically stopped him or he exhausted himself. All she could do was hope Jase returned before Adam killed her and that he would give her the chance to explain.

She would have told Jase. If she knew, she would have told him herself. There was no way she'd have let Mitch have that power.

Sam and Jase were at the kitchen table, the picture laid in front of them. Jase looked up from it, seeing Madison in the doorway. He didn't say anything about the marks but she felt him absorb every inch of her body. His jaw muscles popped out, his chest rising as he took a deep breath through his nose.

Madison pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over her hands, taking a seat opposite him, next to Sam, who wasn't so subtle with his reaction to her beaten appearance. His eyes widened, brows stretching up to his hairline.

Jase slid the picture over.

"It's obvious you know Mitch, but how do you know him, and who's the other boy?"

She recalled the day the photo was taken. Her mum had gathered them, always trying to insert Madison into the boys' friendship. She lifted her finger, pointing at the anonymous teen.

"That's my brother, Dylan." The words croaked out, raspy and dry. The name felt strange on her tongue, fictional. Jase got up to get her a glass of water. Even swallowing the cool liquid was painful.

"I'm going to ask you this once and only once. Are you friends with Mitch?" Jase questioned. She shook her head absently. It was clear to her then that the picture was all Mitch had given Adam, he wanted Jase to draw his own conclusions. Subsequently, Jase's reaction was crucial and there was a good chance that by defending her, he had played into Mitch's hand.

"No. He was Dylan's best friend."

"What can you tell us about him?" Sam asked. The thought of opening that can of worms without revealing too much exhausted her before she could even begin. Madison sighed.

"He knows I'm here, doesn't he?"

Jase nodded, his eyes flitting to Sam then back.

"Why does that matter?"

Madison licked the cut on her lip, trying to calm the anxiety drowning her. The prospect of Mitch being back on the scene overshadowed her current status as someone else's prisoner. It also explained the anonymous letters she'd been receiving. The connection hit her like a ton of bricks. Mitch had been planning to come after her for some time and it was a stroke of fucked up luck that Jase had got there first. She even let out a slight laugh.

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