The Cunning (18+)

52

"I think Madison's fucking lost it," Sam said when he got back in Jase's car. They had dragged an unconscious, blood and piss-covered Harvey onto the road outside the warehouse he'd told them Mitch was at. With the damage Sam's bank card had made to his mouth, they could rest assured Harvey wasn't speaking any time soon, even if he wanted to. Mitch's car was still in the corner.

Jase was halfway through a cigarette, pulling away from the white security lights beaming from the roof of the building. He smiled at Sam.

"You're not wrong. Staying in a room with nothing to do does that to you," he replied dismissively. Madison hadn't gone insane. She was too calculating, every move she made was measured, and her card trick was no exception. The same girl that tried to influence Karolina and Kasia into behaving had insisted on giving a boy a Chelsea Grin; one of the more gruesome ramifications that didn't result in death. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around it.

"Did you see how she was watching him?" Sam continued. "It was unsettling, and I've seen some fucked up shit in my time."

The unpredictable nature of Madison, even when Jase thought he knew the direction she would take, never ceased to intrigue him. She was an enigma. The only thing Jase was sure of was that Madison was not playing a character anymore. Not to the extent she once was, at least. Hurting someone, or being a catalyst in someone getting hurt, was not for the faint of heart. Regular people had a conscience and an embarrassing penchant for denial. Regular people wouldn't instantly believe Jase would put a gun to Harvey's head, and regular people wouldn't suggest a permanent deformation in place of death. Regular people were willing to run to the edge like Harvey, but they soon wanted to run back. They got cold feet, they chickened out. Madison didn't run back or chicken out. She jumped. And when you jumped, there was no going back to the person you once were.

This told Jase one of two things; the guilt over Harvey would eat her up and she was going to crack pretty soon, or, Madison was more willing to get her hands dirty than he had given her credit for. He didn't know which one concerned him more.

He flicked his cigarette out the window as he merged onto the motorway. Sam was still talking.

"I don't know how well she's going to do as a whore, but she'd be fucking good at our job if she was a bloke." Jase looked at him from the corner of his eye but didn't say anything. Madison not being a man wasn't enough to dismiss her anymore.

He had a shower when they got back, washing away the splashes of Harvey's blood from his neck and forearms. The heating was on now they were halfway through autumn, so he didn't bother putting on another t-shirt, sticking to sweatpants.

He wasn't sure what he expected from Madison when he went into the bedroom. Half of him thought what she'd done might have had time to sink in and she'd be in bits. He was surprised to find her sitting in front of the mirror, applying lip balm with her middle finger, her hair in two long plaits. A heavy sense of indifference had settled into her features.

He leaned back against the edge of the desk, folding his arms and crossing his ankles. Madison could feel his eyes fixed on the side of her face. The hairs on her neck stood to attention under his scrutiny.

"What?" she asked casually. Jase pursed his lips.

"What was that earlier? That wasn't the attitude you walked into this house with," he said. Madison smiled, half laughing as she dropped the balm and picked up a tube of lip-gloss.

"I hardly walked into this house," she mumbled, getting to her feet and stepping closer to the mirror to apply the gloss. She wiped at the corner of her lips where the balm bled out.

"You know what I mean," Jase replied. He stepped behind her, placing his hands in his pockets, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Because the night Kasia died, you seemed pretty upset with the thought of me killing someone, and now you're sticking cards in people's mouths." Madison resisted the urge to roll her eyes.