The Cunning

85

The high took Madison away. She was lying across the bed, her head on Jase's torso. His fingers mindlessly grazed the skin above her underwear line. They passed a second joint back and forth in the same comfortable silence most couples would share.

"If you didn't want me to see what you did to Harvey, why did you call me downstairs?" Madison asked.

"I was going to make you watch," he replied casually. He didn't need to tell her what it was he was going to make her watch, nor did it take Madison by surprise. She was accustomed to his nonchalance.

"What changed your mind?"

Jase pursed his lips, wondering at which point would he end up saying too much, giving her too much.

"I didn't need to traumatise you to see what I wanted to see," he finally replied.

"And what was that?" she asked, though she had a feeling she knew. She accepted the joint he was holding above her.

"Your reaction." Madison glanced up at him, he was already looking at her. "I wanted to see if you're worth the pain in my arse that you are." He squeezed her side playfully, and she giggled, wriggling around until he stopped, placing his palm flat on her stomach. He had big hands, hands capable of breaking things. And yet, they were so hesitant on her, as if her skin were rice paper that would tear if he wasn't careful.

"And am I?" she asked. He dragged his hand up her body, pulling the t-shirt with it, stopping before he exposed too much and lifting his hand to her face, cupping her chin, brushing her cheek with his thumb. The rough bandage rubbed at her skin.

"Unfortunately for me, you might be."

A crease formed between Madison's brows. "Why unfortunately for you?" She sat up, looking down at him in his usual position – one arm behind his head. She took a final drag on the joint and passed it back.

"Peter," he replied. Madison's heart sank. She'd forgotten about him. Jase was good at getting her to do that; forget about things. Like getting out of the house and how the hands that were so gentle to her hand also caused unimaginable damage to others.

"I don't want to talk about him," she murmured. Jase studied her for a second, the blonde hair water-falling in loose waves down past her shoulders, her thick lips glistening after she rubbed them together. It wasn't the first time he'd thought she was beautiful. He finished the joint and stood up as he stubbed it out. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in a second," he told her as he left.

She waited, hearing the front door open and close, followed by his footsteps. He threw a brown paper bag onto the bed. Madison looked at it, confused. "I hope you like chocolate chip."

Her eyes widened, "You got me cookies?"

"They're not gluten-free," he informed. Madison felt a tightness in her chest, observing Jase with caution. A slow smirk crept across his face.

"You knew?" she questioned. Jase half-heartedly rolled his shoulders.

"You can get a lot past me, but I've seen you drinking beer." She had the decency to look guilty but not regretful. It didn't matter to Jase, lying about dietary requirements was hardly the most sinister form of deception. It only confused him. "Why did you lie though?"

Madison's nose crinkled, as if it was obvious. "First rule of being kidnapped, make yourself look human. Sever yourself from the status-quo. We get three meals a day and every meal time, you have to think of me as a separate entity because you can't give me the same food as everyone else."

Jase didn't have anything to say. She impressed him, there was nothing more to it. A hum was all he mustered in response.

Madison tore the top of the bag, the sugary smell a warm hug enveloping her. They were the soft in the middle kind.

"I didn't think you would get me anything," she said, taking one out and offering him the bag. Jase shook his head, he wasn't big on sweet treats.

"Don't get used to it," he replied, only half-joking. Madison placed the bag on her nightstand, breaking the cookie off in parts as she ate, sweeping the crumbs to the floor.

When she finished, she laid down next to Jase.

"You can come here," he chuckled. She scooted closer, letting him put his arm around her. He picked up his cigarettes with his free hand, batting away all the thoughts telling him he shouldn't be doing any of this.

"Jase?" Madison started once he'd lit his cigarette. He hummed in reply, inhaling a lungful of smoke and staring off into the distance. "It wasn't all an act." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She was unsure if she wanted him to hear. The statement needed no further explanation. Just because she'd lied about the intolerance, it didn't mean everything else was a fabrication.

"I know."

Madison fell asleep shortly after. Jase slipping out from underneath her, heading downstairs.

Sam was in the living room, playing Xbox. He looked up, acknowledging the wad of white bandage.

"How's your hand?" he asked.

"Haven't felt it since the pain meds kicked in."

"Madison have much to say?"

Jase sat down in his armchair, shaking his head. "Not really. Said she thinks I should be more careful, but other than that, nothing."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Thinks you should be more careful? Why the fuck does she care?" he asked. Jase looked at the back of Sam's head through his lashes but didn't say anything. Sam paused his game and turned to face him. "Do you think she does care?"

Jase shrugged. "Doesn't matter."