The Formidable

35

The private location Madison's dad had summoned them to was a pub. Karl opened the wooden door for Madison and Jase, releasing the mindless chatter and booming laughter from the punters gathered around pool tables and fruit machines. It was one of those places you were either a regular, or unwelcome, and the building had to have been at least a hundred years old and smelled it.

Karl led them through, heads turned to watch around them. Jase couldn't tell whether it was because they knew Madison, or him, or both, or neither. Either way, it was unnerving to have so many eyes on them in an unfamiliar territory. He did notice one thing, there were no women. No barmaids, no girlfriends hanging onto their lover, nothing. He figured maybe that was why they were staring at Madison like a two-headed horse, whispering.

Madison avoided looking at Jase and it wasn't because she felt guilty for lying. She was pissed because her plan to keep the two men in her life separate had failed.

Karl took them through another door and up a set of rickety stairs with the carpet removed and the faded grippers left on. At the top, they walked through a narrow hallway with whitewashed walls and black beams. It was like being in a funhouse. The floor was uneven and beams sat so low even Madison had to duck until they came to a door at the end with two men standing outside.

"They need to pat you down," Karl explained. Jase lifted his arms up and parted his legs. There was no use arguing. Madison didn't move and Karl raised his brows. She rolled her eyes, taking the gun from her jeans and handing it to one of the men. They took Jase's gun as well and only then did they open the door.

The burly man behind the desk was instantly recognisable as Madison's father. They shared the same eyes and mouth shape. Jase imagined the man once had many more similarities to his daughter but age had made them more subtle.

An aggressive white scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his lips. He wasn't so much wrinkled as he was bent, deep creases imprinted between his thick brows and around his chin, implying years of disapproving looks. His hands rested on the desk in front of him, a sovereign ring on his left index and another ring, an old wedding band, on his right pinky. He was broad but not fat.

Jase quickly picked up more to this man than his resemblance to Madison. He had seen him before. When he was young, before the scar. Just for a moment, but he was sure of it.

"We talked about this," Madison said, her glare fixed on her father who looked at her briefly before his attention settled on Jase, measuring him. Jase could feel it wasn't the first time this man had laid eyes on him. He'd been watched. That's how they knew to leave a phone for him at the club. The thought made him uneasy and the irony didn't go amiss.

"I know we talked about this. But we," he gestured at Jase, "haven't. And now he's thrown a bit of a spanner in my works." Her dad had a rough East London accent that only the old-timers carried. Very different from Madison's articulation.

Madison sat down without invite and Jase waited until her dad nodded to the chair. He knew when he wasn't the most dangerous person in the room. And because of that, he knew when to be respectful.

"Jase Davies," her dad said. Jase said nothing. "For whatever reason, regardless of what you've done, my daughter is dead set on protecting you and making sure you're kept out of harm's way. As much as I'd like to crush your skull under my boot."

"I told you, he is the only reason I made it out of that house alive," Madison said through gritted teeth. His attention snapped to her.

"And for that, he's breathing."

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Jase asked, running out of patience.

Her dad took a deep breath and looked at one of the men standing behind them. "Go get a bottle of brandy, three glasses," he ordered. The man left quietly. "I've heard a lot about you, Jase. From Madison and others. Madison, what she wants me to know, others, what I want to know."