The Cunning

45

"Where's Madison gone?" Janine asked. She'd been gone for almost ten minutes.

"She went to get drinks," Jase reminded her.

"She's taking her time," Sam said. Jase frowned, leaving them to go find her.

The kitchen was eerily quiet. Everyone was staring at Madison in the corner, who was staring at the floor.

"What's going on?" he asked. All heads turned, all eyes widened, but no one said a word other than Mike.

"You ought to get control of this one," he said, sneering down at Madison, "a little too comfortable with talking back." Jase's temper had the impressive ability to make a room feel half as big, and him twice his size. His chest expanded when his shoulders came back.

"Madison, upstairs," he said sternly. Mike didn't move. Madison put the drinks on the table beside her. She had to squeeze past him, stumbling in her attempt to leave the room as quickly as possible.

Jase grabbed her with an arm around her waist when she tried to scurry past, pulling her back. "Look at me," he ordered. Madison didn't want to look at him. She wanted to get out of there before things got ugly. Jase didn't tell her again. She held her breath when his hand came up to her face, acutely aware he was running on Columbia's finest, and when he saw what Mike had done, he may not handle it as calmly as he had with Charlie. He lifted her hair to reveal the embossed handprint on her cheek. Each fat finger imprinted on her usually alabaster skin was enflamed and raging. Mike had wanted to hurt her. If it weren't for the drugs in her system, she would be crying. At least she had one thing to thank them for.

After a second of examining the mark, Jase let her go. She ran upstairs, shutting the bedroom door heavily.

"You slapped her?" he said, turning to Mike once he was sure she was out of earshot.

Mike shrugged, his cockiness faltering at the unreadable expression Jase was wearing. "Course I fuckin' did. She tried to tell me we aren't allowed to touch her." Jase pursed his lips, trying to figure out the appropriate way to deal with him. Logical thinking was an extreme sport with all the substances coursing through his system, and his temper certainly wasn't making it an easy feat.

Sam's eyes widened when the sound of shattering glass cut through the music and conversation. Quickly lifting Janine off his lap, he hurried out. Mike was out cold, slumped against the bottom cupboard. Shards of green glass glistened on his chest, blood trickled down his face from the right side of his head.

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone was looking at Jase, the jagged bottleneck was still in a white knuckle grip in his hand.

"We have rules here," he said, tossing the remainder of his weapon in the bin. "You want to break them, be my guest, but that's how it's going to end. Someone get this cunt out." He nudged Mike's leg with his foot, and two men dragged him to his feet as he regained consciousness.

"What happened?" Sam asked, his voice lowered. He stepped to the side so Mike could be escorted out. Jase picked up the bottles Madison had left on the table.

"He slapped her."