The Cunning (18+)

12

The gravity of the situation sunk in when Jase shoved Madison back into the bedroom with such force she stumbled over her feet, landing on the bed. Things had taken a turn for the worst at such an impressive speed, the nausea swimming through her could be confused with whiplash.

"You're fucking lucky I'm the one that caught you," Jase said. She could already feel the bruises forming on her upper arms, wrists, and stomach from where he'd grabbed her. Everywhere he'd put his hands. And he called her lucky. "You realise they will kill you, Madison," he added, forcing his point across. Slowly, she raised her head and dared to look at him.

"As I said, I'd rather be dead than here," she replied.

Jase scoffed. "I'd be careful what you wish for if I were you." He turned his back to her, running his hands through his hair, trying to control his anger. If Benny or Adam didn't find an excuse to kill her, then she would be the death of him.

"Why don't you just kill me?" she asked, breaking the silence in the room. Her voice was weaker than intended, he heard the girl inside losing hope. It was obvious there was no backup plan. Some of the tension in Jase's shoulders eased. He shook his head at her in the mirror, taking a box of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one. The smoke curled out of his lips, his tongue poked in his cheek.

"Trust me, if I could, I would. You've caused enough trouble, but someone paid a lot of money for you to be here." Madison's face paled at the reminder she had been a request. Amidst everything, it was a detail she had forgotten. There was someone out there who had asked for her by name. Anyone asking for her by name was enough to set off a red flag because few people knew it and even fewer knew it had value. If this had anything to do with her dad, Jase didn't know it and Madison wanted to keep it that way.

"I'm sorry my abduction is such an inconvenience for you," she deadpanned. Jase scowled, unimpressed with her attitude.

"You being here was out of my hands. If I knew it was you that night in the alley, I wouldn't have let you go." A ringtone, from his regular phone, not the Nokia, interrupted before she could ask questions. Jase didn't care for a response, answering Benny's call. "I'm on my way back now," he said, hanging up and looking back to Madison. "You better hope none of the others find out about this."

A pillow hit the door with a pathetic thwomp after he'd left, followed by a hollow cry of despair. There wasn't going to be another chance to escape. He may not kill her but she was as good as dead within the walls of her prison. She needed a new game plan, fast.

*

Jase found the others hovering near the alley Madison had turned down. He'd thought he was hallucinating when she stopped. If it weren't for the look on her face, it would have taken him longer to recognise her. But the stunned deer in headlights, slightly parted lips, he knew that look. The same look she had the first time they'd met in an alley. It was a face brandished in his mind's eye, one that creeped in and out of his sleep. Only last time he'd seen it, it hadn't disappeared so fast.

He didn't bother telling the others about Madison's brief outbreak. There would be no way of talking Benny or Adam down. Instead, he fluffed over excuses for why collecting his phone took longer than expected and changed the conversation to the two girls being held for them.

They made their way to the white transit parked a few streets over, where their 'package' was waiting. Usually, it would only be one or two of them collecting the girls but Benny, paranoid as ever, insisted they all go in case it wasn't girls, but an ambush. He'd been on edge recently, Jase chalked it up to all the dips in their cocaine supply.

The girls were young, not Madison young but no older than twenty-one. Sisters with a limited English vocabulary. It was a story that had been told and retold many times. The stragglers with no official documentation to prove they were in the country often ended up in the possession of men like them. They were easy catches with no trails. The perfect crime.

The shallow wedge of orange light the backdoor of the van allowed illuminated two ghostly bodies huddled in the corner.

"Proszę, pomóż nam," one of them said. The men looked at each other. Benny shut the door.

"I can never decide if it's better or worse when they don't speak English," he said, locking it and tossing Adam the keys.

"What are they? Romanian?" Adam questioned.

"Polish," Jase replied, lighting a cigarette. "Proszę pomóż. Please help."