The Cunning

70

A sea of heads swam around at the bottom of the stairs. Madison stood on the landing, staring down at the daunting amount of people. Jase was leaning on the small table by the coat hooks opposite the stairs, a tumbler glass full of golden liquid in his hand. He was talking to a man Madison only vaguely recognised.

The bass from the music vibrated in her throat. Any other time, the bra and vest Janine had picked out for her would have made her self-conscious, leading to her spending the night with her arms across her chest. This wasn't the case this evening. The determination to survive was resuscitated, camping in the 'modest', according to Janine, cleavage of her breasts.

Lifting her chin, a wave of confidence rushed her veins. This was not an environment for the weak to thrive in, and she would be in her grave before she was considered weak. Daddy raised a soldier, not a little bitch.

When she was halfway down the stairs, Jase looked over, seeing something had caught his friend's eye. His attention started at her chest. Men were simple creatures. Refraining from rolling her eyes, Madison made her way over, stopping half a foot in front of the men and folding her arms. Her goal was no longer to outsmart him directly, it was a useless tactic that she didn't have the time to execute effectively. The strategy had been simplified. She was going to seduce him, by giving him everything he asked for and then some.

"Nice enough for you?" she questioned, a measured clip in her attitude. Jase raised his glass to his curved lips, with his other hand he tugged Madison closer by the sleeves around her waist. The yank caught her off guard. She wobbled on the heels, instinctively putting her hands up to break the fall, planting them on Jase's chest. He was solid beneath her fingers, reminding her how much stronger he was, and how much damage he could do if she fucked up. But she was testing his mental capacity, not his physical strength.

"Kieran, you haven't met Madison yet, have you?" he said, looking down at her. "She's a special request." She swallowed her pride, willing herself to remain calm, even with his knuckles grazing the sliver of skin on display above her belt buckle. His cologne overpowered the liquor in his hand and on his lips, the same smoky vanilla notes that always accompanied him at parties and showings, and it seemed he had found somewhere to catch up on sleep because the bloodshot eyes were no more. He was switched on this evening, no tell tale signs that he'd been rinsing bags of white powder for a solid 72 hours.

She pushed away, taking a step back. Jase smiled devilishly.

"She's a fucking pain in my arse but look at this little money maker." He cupped her chin. It was an attempt to belittle her, let her know exactly what kind of mood he was in and where she stood with it. Madison thought of everything Janine had said and played along.

"Bite me," she purred with only a hint of sharpness. There was a visible glimmer in Jase's eyes, a twitch at her response. The most minute of silent confessions that once again, Janine was right. Jase got his kicks from Madison being unapologetically Madison.

The tip of his tongue flicked out, moistening his lips as he leaned in, hot breath tickled her ear, "I would love to." He let his hand fall from her face, relishing in her glare. Madison, finding it hard to play pet sober, reached behind him, picking up the half full bottle of Courvoisier before turning on her heel. Jase and Kieran watched as she sashayed into the living room.

"Since when the fuck did you let the girls talk to you like that?" Kieran asked. The exchange baffled him. Kieran held his breath when Janine spoke without being spoken to, the thirty-second encounter with Madison had almost made him pass out. Jase chuckled, taking a sip of brandy.

"Oh, if any other girl spoke to me like that I'd lock them in a room with Adam, no questions asked, but not Madison." He turned his attention back to the living room entrance. "I'm not done having fun with her yet."

Now his anger had dulled, he found it in himself to admire her. No matter what obstacle he threw her way, she adapted. Madison was a live wire, consistently challenging him. Every time she was knocked down, she got straight back up. The resilience alone was astonishing, the sassy attitude she managed to uphold simultaneously was the turn on.

*

Madison's heart was going to burst through her ribcage, she was sure of it. It was one thing being defiant in the privacy of the bedroom, it was ludicrous to do so in front of someone. Her legs had barely managed to carry her all the way to the table. Yet, beneath all the fear, there was exhilaration. It was no longer him being nice because she hadn't thrown him under the bus. They were aware of one another's capabilities, the knowledge of one another's thought processes made things a whole lot more interesting.

It made sense now why people committed crimes and played with fire even when they knew the consequences. There was something unquenchable about pushing boundaries. She felt alive. And dangerous.