The Cunning (18+)

60

As the days edged closer to Madison's birthday, she grew quieter. She slept more, ate less, and barely even looked at Jase. Her dad hadn't come to her rescue. No opportunities for an escape had presented themselves and if Jase wasn't getting changed or sleeping, the door remained locked again. She assumed this was because they were expecting her to make one last ditch effort to get out but she didn't have the energy. Her time was up.

A tiny, now pathetic, part of her had planned to somehow convince Jase to give her access to a weapon, to turn a blind eye or something. After their kiss, she had hope. But Sam ensured the two of them were kept apart to avoid Madison sinking her claws in deeper.

However, being out of sight did not result in being out of mind for Jase.

The ordeal was taking as much of a toll on him. It was in the air, the impending deadline of their time together less than 24 hours away. Not even Adam had anything to say, playing Xbox with Sam in silence. Jase rolled a joint on the sofa and took it upstairs. The least he could do was give Madison a shred of dissociation before taking the lamb to slaughter.

As predicted, she was on the floor, staring at herself in the mirror. He was surprised there wasn't an imprint of her in the old carpet she sat there so often. He wasn't sure if she was looking at her reflection or through it. After asking why she was doing her makeup earlier in the month, he'd refrained from asking anything else. Her response had induced a tightness in his chest that he'd never experienced before and didn't want to experience again.

He stood in the doorway. Madison didn't blink, but she was aware of his presence. It was strange, to think this was the version of her they had wanted less than six months ago. Now she was here, he wanted to scream at her. He wanted her to slam doors and smash the mirror. He wanted her to hold one of the longest shards to his neck, to demand a gun and money and her freedom, to steal his phone while he slept, to push and push and push until one of them ended up dead. Anything was better than watching her turn into a ghost before she died.

"It's my birthday tomorrow," she croaked, devoid of any emotion. Jase put his hands in his pockets, face down.

"I know," he replied, hoping she couldn't hear the pain in his words.

"I don't want to be here," she continued, the slightest of cracks penetrating her stoic mask. Angrily, she wiped at the tear that dared to betray her. "We both know that, but in this room, with you, there's an element of safety. And I'm never getting that again." The last sentence was barely audible, a squeak as Madison lost all composure.

It hurt Jase to see her like this. What hurt him more was knowing he had played such a big part. And no matter how much he had tried to push it back, the inevitable was fast approaching. There was no plan B, he hadn't thought he would need one.

He pulled Madison to her feet, wrapping his arms around her tightly and gently lowered them to the bed. They laid like that for what felt like hours until her sobs subsided, reduced to quiet tears and the odd sniffle.

"That night I saw you in the alleyway," Jase said softly, combing his fingers through her hair, careful not to pull on any knots. "I thought you were the prettiest idiot I've ever seen in my life." Madison let out a weak laugh. "You shouldn't have been walking home alone so late. I recognised you. But I thought you were someone else, your name badge..." He sighed. "Peter showed me the CCTV the next day, that's when I found out it was you we were looking for. After our run-in, I didn't think we'd get a second chance. Every night we watched you get a taxi right to your front door. And you know what? I was glad." He adjusted himself so they were facing each other, wiping her tears with his thumb, keeping his hand on her cheek. "I couldn't bring myself to go the night Peter told us you were letting him drop you home. I can't explain it, I just had this gut feeling that it wasn't a good idea. I was worried about you telling people I'd let you go before but it wasn't that. It was like I knew you would be different." He breathed a short hmph. "The one time I don't listen to my gut and look where it gets me."

This elicited a microscopic smile from Madison, which was better than tears. Jase's own faded as he recalled seeing her in their living room for the first time. She was scared, sure, but when she demanded to know how he knew her name Jase knew there was more fight than fear in this girl. He could feel her assessing him the way he was assessing her, measuring each other. Calculate, calculate, calculate. Right from the offset.

"When they brought you back and called me down, all I could do was hope they had someone else. That somehow, you weren't the same girl I watched on the CCTV. When I saw you, my heart dropped." He pressed his lips together, recalling the disappointment. "And then when you escaped, so much of me wanted to let you go, but if Benny had caught you, he wouldn't have thought twice about killing you." He rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes so hard with the balls of his hands that his vision clouded with pulsing grey splotches. "If I could let you go, get you away from here, I would. Sure as fuck would make my life easier. But it's not that simple."

"You don't want to be here either," she said after a brief silence. Jase didn't reply. "I bet since your hand got sliced, you've been questioning whether this is all worth it."

She was right. Having a genuine attack on your life puts a lot into perspective.

"And what do you suggest I do, Madison?"

"We could run away together," she whispered. Jase smiled but it failed to reach his eyes. He was unsure what was more cruel, to encourage the fantasy knowing he couldn't deliver or to douse her optimism in petrol and set it alight rather than allowing her to hold onto false hope.

"I can't just up and leave. Everyone in this business knows who I am. I dare say this won't be the last time someone tries to kill me." He held his hand in front of her face to show the pink slither of a scar on his palm. It matched her own, caused by the window frame during her great escape. "It's not as simple as quitting a job and turning a blind eye to everything." He looked up to the ceiling, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I don't even have anywhere else to go or anything else to do. This is what I've always done, I don't know how to do anything else."

Madison's shoulders sank. This wasn't fair. "So that's it?" she asked with an edge of indignation, "You just sit around waiting until you get shot or stabbed or locked up?"

Growing up, Madison had idolised her dad. She never understood her mum's problem with something that put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Now, not only did Madison understand her mum, she sounded like her.

"I made my bed," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She hated that she saw so much of her dad in him, the way he accepted the consequences of his actions with such ease.

The tears and exhaustion eventually took their toll, and she fell asleep in his lap, lulled by him stroking her hair. He stopped when his hand started to cramp, checking the time on his phone as the minutes ticked over to midnight.

"Happy birthday," he whispered, frowning at the mascara stains down her cheeks and her swollen lips. That's when he decided he was about to do some dumb shit for her.

He carefully shuffled away from under Madison, taking one long last look at her as she slept peacefully before leaving the room.