The Cunning

83

The men let the heat die down for a few days after the bomb debacle. Jase explained to Ramon that the plan hadn't gone too well. As expected, he wasn't happy which put everyone in a foul mood.

Madison remained in the room for the better half of the week, they didn't have any more parties over the following five days, and she hardly saw Jase outside of meal times until Friday afternoon.

"I'm going to the shop. Do you want anything other than gluten-free bread?" Madison pulled herself up onto the bed from where she'd been sat in front of the mirror, brushing her feet over the carpet in a sweeping motion.

"What are the options?"

"Fruits? Veg? Cereals?"

Madison chewed the inside of her lip, thinking.

"Bananas, watermelon, any fruit, chicken nuggets." There was nothing that tickled her fancy, her appetite had all but ceased to exist since her arrival to the house.

"I'll see what I can get." He went to walk out, but Madison stopped him.

"Jase?" He looked over his shoulder, his hand on the door handle. "Can you get me something sweet?" He raised his brows slightly, letting go of the door, almost surprised at her boldness. Regular food was one thing, desserts were a reward. Something they weren't supposed to give the girls.

"Are you taking the piss?"

Madison pouted, tilting her head. "Come on. I've been good. It's not like Benny's going to find out." Nobody had seen Benny for a while, Jase touched base with him every few days to keep him up to date on everything that was going on but even then, Benny wasn't overly interested. Jase had chalked it up to his mum being ill and left it at that. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I'll think about it."

The walls rattled as the front door slammed shut a few hours after Jase had left. His voice boomed through the house, a mixture of rage and panic. Madison's eyes shot open from her nap to all the noise.

"Sam, where the fuck is the first aid kit?!" Jase demanded from downstairs. Her heart rate increased tenfold. She heard Sam come out of Janine's bedroom, a thundering of footsteps followed by Sam's response, shock with the faintest shred of fear.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked.

Madison didn't wait to hear Jase's reply, leaping from the bed and dashing downstairs to see what the commotion was about.

She froze in the kitchen doorway, suddenly nine years old again watching her dad leaning over the sink with blood pouring from the side of his face. Back then, seeing all the fluid that was supposed to be inside him running down his neck and chest had made her woozy.

"Some cunt tried to stab me," Jase seethed, bringing Madison back down to Earth. Blood saturated his white t-shirt, so much so that it took her a moment to locate where it was all coming from.

The cupboard doors were open, their contents spilling onto the countertop as Jase routed around in them with one hand, the other was clutched close to his chest. Red rivers ran down his arms, imitating the veins that usually popped up, dripping onto the floor and smearing under Jase's panicked movements.

Sam stared, the idea that someone had made an attempt on Jase's life had thrown him. This didn't happen. But Madison wasn't nine years old anymore, freezing up was unhelpful, she snapped into action, pushing past Sam.

"Don't just bloody stand there. Get a cloth!" she ordered, heading to Jase's aid. Sam grabbed a tea-towel from the cupboard under the sink, flinging it in her direction. "Give me your hand," she instructed Jase sternly. He did, growling through gritted teeth as she pressed the material into the laceration in his palm. He held his wrist tight to keep his reflexes from pulling away. "Put pressure on that. Sam, is there a first aid kit anywhere?" For someone in their line of work, he moved slow, flustered at the prospect that someone out there had the gall to make an attempt on Jase's life. Tommy, Kieran and Adam had now filtered into the kitchen, shrinking the room.

"Who stabs someone in the hand?" Tommy asked.

"He didn't. I grabbed the knife," Jase replied, desperately trying to breathe through the severe discomfort of Madison trying to stop the bleeding.

"You need to run it under the tap," Madison said. His eyes flew open.

"What?"

"Why the fuck did you grab the knife?" Tommy continued. Jase snapped his head around, There were too many people standing about, too many stupid questions.

"Obviously I didn't fucking intend on slicing my hand open, dickhead. I wasn't looking to get a puncture wound."

"Sink. Now," Madison cut off the bickering. She peeled the towel off and followed him to the kitchen sink, turning the tap on and pulling his hand under. It wasn't technically the best move, but she needed to see the severity of the cut.

"Jesus, fuck," Jase hissed, gripping the edge of the kitchen side as cold water pounded into the grim slash. She raised her brows at him, trying to hide the amusement at his whining. Not in a cruel way, it was just out of character. There was also an unanticipated sense of comfort in seeing Jase in pain, of being reminded that he was human. For all his guns, aggression and reputation, Jase bled blood the same as the rest of them.

Once the mess was rinsed away, she could see the extent of the damage done by the armed assailant and it wasn't looking good. Whoever had attacked him had done so with force and his palm had taken the brunt of it.

"You need to go to A&E," Madison declared.

"No," Jase replied.

"You'll need stitches," she said, pressing the clean part of the towel back into his palm. He winced, leaning against the kitchen side and taking over on applying pressure. The pain had gone from a cold flame burning his nerve endings to a blunt throbbing.

"Not happening," he said with all the stubbornness of a mule, "I'm not going to A&E."

"If you don't go to A&E then you are putting yourself at risk of infection, and if there's damage to the ulnar nerve then the probability of paralysis in all the intrinsic muscles in your hand is much higher."

For a moment, everyone forgot about the blood and any connotations that came with the attack. They were all looking at Madison, likely thinking the same thing. The possibility of infection was common knowledge, the terminology surrounding the loss of feeling was not.

Why would a seventeen-year-old shelf stacker that hadn't so much as applied to college, let alone attend one, know the things she knew?

Jase's eyes narrowed ever so slightly but he said nothing. Madison cleared her throat, internally scolding herself for sacrificing her dumb-bitch cover for the sake of Jase's wellbeing.

"Go to A&E," she repeated. "You're no good to anyone with one hand."

*

Anyone have any theories on why Madison knows so much about first aid? Or who tried to stab Jase? Leave them down in the comments, give me something to read ;) Oh, and if you haven't already, don't forget to vote :)