The Cunning (18+)

46

Jase was waiting for Madison in the bedroom when she got out of the shower the following morning. He'd changed from last night's jeans into his staple grey joggers and discarded his t-shirt.

He was slouching against the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, on his phone so Madison was free to admire the contorts of his exposed abs. His body was currently the only redeeming quality about him, the only thing combatting his awful personality.

She crawled across the bed in front of him, rolling onto her back and resting her feet on the pillows. Jase cleared his throat, slipping a hand in his pockets and crossing his ankles, he still hadn't looked up from his phone.

"What did Kieran say to that guy last night?" Madison asked, trying to get his attention.

"That you were off-limits," Jase mumbled.

"Because of Peter?"

He breathed a small laugh, looking at her through his lashes. "No, not because of Peter." He put the phone in his pocket and folded his arms. She was wearing one of his white t-shirts and a pair of white socks that came halfway up her shins. Her fingers walked slowly across the band of her black underwear. Her behaviour made him suspicious. Apparently, it wasn't the drink that brought about this side of her.

"Then why?"

"Because I said you are," he replied.

Madison smiled, absently tracing the lace material. She flipped onto her front, feet in the air, and studied him. "Because you think I belong to you." Jase studied her for a moment, trying to twig her angle.

"No, I do not think you belong to me, Madison. You do belong to me, so long as you're under this roof." He didn't know what to make of the smile that followed. Her reaction was always the one he least expected, and it was an unnerving reminder that whilst he knew what she was doing, he never knew what she would do next. "How does that make you feel?" he asked out of genuine curiosity.

Madison's smile grew as she stood up, closing the space between them so she had to look up to meet his eyes. There was a box of cigarettes behind him on the drawers, she reached around, picking them up and taking one out as she asked, "What exactly does it mean?"

Jase lit the cigarette for her. "Exactly what it says."

Madison raised her brows. "What changed?" she asked, as she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, folding one leg over the other.

"In what sense?" Jase replied.

She shrugged. "Why did you suddenly turn on me? It was obvious what we were doing, why such a sudden switch? Especially if the end goal is still the same; I play nice, so do you?" Jase considered not telling her but once again, his curiosity won over.

"People were talking," he said.

She rolled her eyes lazily. "And since when did a lion listen to the opinion of sheep? Also, won't this whole 'no one is allowed to touch me' restart the talking?"

"This is different," he said, taking a cigarette for himself.

"How so?"

"Do you not think it is?" he asked.

Madison knew it was different. It was in the air - a tension laced with hunger. This wasn't soft and gentle like when they'd been tiptoeing around one another. He saw Madison for what she was - who she could be - and his possessiveness confirmed that he liked what he saw. Or, at the very least, he was curious enough to see how she played out to not put a stop to it.

"What's it like to kill someone?" she asked, disregarding his question. Jase pressed his lips together, choosing his next words carefully. A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have asked that question. She'd have recoiled and avoided any conversation that alluded to how cruel and callous he could be. Not that he was one to judge people changing; a month ago he was trying to work out how he could get rid of Madison and save his own skin. Now, when he looked at her, there was an insatiable thirst for the woman she was becoming and an almost uncontrollable enticement to the danger she presented.

"Too easy," he said. Madison raised the cigarette to her lips again, allowing the filter to brush over them as she held it there.

"I'll bet," she whispered. Unbeknownst to Jase, it was him she was envisioning killing. The small, meek girl she had been when she entered the house was dead and gone. She hadn't been strong enough to withstand the barbaric ways of Jase and his cronies, and from the embers rose someone new. A type of woman Jase had never had the misfortune of encountering.