The Cunning

72

Jase didn't join Madison at any point throughout the night, sleeping as best as he could on the sofa. She was let out of the room for a shower just gone nine in the morning. When she returned, Jase was in the bedroom. He'd changed from last night's jeans into his staple grey joggers, the t-shirt long discarded.

He was slouching against the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, focus on his phone, so Madison was free to briefly 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?" she asked.

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

"Because of Peter?"

He breathed a small laugh, looking at her through his lashes. "No, not because of Peter." The phone went into his pocket, his arms folded. Madison 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 subtle, but somehow obvious, flirting.

"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."

"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 microscopic curve of her mouth. He tilted his head, her reaction was always the one he least expected, and it was a constant 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, putting inches between them so that she had to look up to meet his eyes. A box of cigarettes was 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. "It means that no one gets to put their hands on you but me, and if you behave yourself, I might not be such an arsehole."

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

"In what sense?" Jase replied. Madison shrugged.

"Why did you suddenly turn on me? It was obvious that we were trying to work each other out and make our lives easier, why such a sudden switch? Especially if the end goal is still the same; I play nice, so do you?"

"People were talking," he replied.

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. She knew it was. 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.

Jase valued ownership above sympathy, and people were more accustomed to that behaviour from him. The familiarity of that dynamic left no spaces for questions or gossip. When Jase looked at her now, there was an insatiable thirst for the woman she was becoming and an almost uncontrollable enticement to the danger she presented.

"What's it like to kill someone?" Madison asked, disregarding his question. Jase pressed his lips together, choosing his next words carefully. A week 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. Why was she all of a sudden interested in this side of him?

"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.

Here was a woman continuously evolving in such a way she still held power. She had taken everything in her stride and made it work for her. He couldn't objectify her to make her uncomfortable if she smiled about it. He couldn't remind her he killed people for a living if it made her inquisitive rather than scared. Most importantly, he couldn't stop her from doing what she was doing because it was everything he wanted her to do.