CHAPTER 1

Crap I know I'm going to be late; oh man he's going to freak out again.

I'm standing in line at the bank holding a coffee can full of change that I needed to deposit into my savings account. I've carried so many coffee cans full of change into the bank in the past 2 years I'm getting pretty good at guessing how much is in them before I even have the teller dump it into the change counter. My best guess for todays is $223.47 give or take a few bucks. Two years ago my foster mom (more like grandmother-she was like 85) took me to First Commonwealth Bank and helped me open my own savings account, and every week for 10 weeks (that all the time I had with the sweet old lady before the ambulance took her away) she would give me $50 and I would walk to the bank and deposit it into my savings account. Edna (that was my 85 year old foster moms name) started my savings account with a crisp one hundred dollar bill, that with the $50 she gave me for 10 weeks to follow started my saving at a nice round number of $600.

"Are you going to move up in line or can I go in front of you?"

Glancing over my shoulder I see a man of about 45 staring at me with an annoyed look on his face.

"I beg your pardon sir?"

"The line moved and you didn't! Look little girl you may live a carefree life but some of us have schedules to keep, so if you're not going it move up then at least let the rest of us go around you."

"I'm sorry sir, of course I'll move up, I apologize for not realizing the line moved I guess I just have a lot on my mind and wasn't paying attention"

Annnnd nothing…he just scowls at me and then stares at the teller behind the counter with such intensity you can almost read his thoughts:

"Come on you stupid blond! How many times do you have to count that money before you get on to the next customer!?"

Crap I hope I'm not that grumpy when I'm old! Who does this guy think he is anyhow? Okay, okay I get it I'm only 15 and most people think I'm only 13 but my life hasn't been a walk in the park but I still try to live each day with a positive attitude. Honestly to be fair I wasn't always this positive, in fact until I met Edna I was a pretty negative person. But one day about 3 weeks after I moved into her tiny little house she found me crying like a baby in my tiny little bedroom on my tiny little bed; Edna came in a sat on the edge of my bed and began to rub my back to calm my sobs. After I stopped crying she told me: Sweetheart, life is what you make of it, sometimes you get dealt a bad hand of cards, you can choose to fold and leave the game or put your best bluff face on and go all in. I laughed at what she said but then I really thought about it….she was right I could spend my life folding every time something upsets me or goes the wrong way; or I can put up my best bluff and try to win the whole pot. So I choose to go all in. Every day I wake up I tell myself lets win this game and take the full pot home.

I realize at this point you think I'm crazy but it works for me. I live each day with a positive attitude and I study hard to keep my grades good in school with the hopes of getting a scholarship to continue my schooling at a nice 4 year college so that someday I can have a nice life with nice things and not have to wear close from the goodwill, or eat hamburger helper for dinner 3 night a week. In case you were wondering what I plan on doing with my life, I want to be a therapist, more importantly a child and youth therapist. Why you ask? Well growing up in the system and being shifted in and out of countless foster homes I have learned that these kids (kids like me) need someone to talk to, to have someone hear them, really hear them. Because when you grow up in the system no one ever hears you. In the group housing you're just a number and in foster care 9 times out of 10 hell more like 999 times out of 1000 you're just a paycheck for the foster "parents" to cash each month. So yeah no one listens to you, no one hears you. I realize I'm only one person, and I realize one person can't change the whole system. But maybe I can change one kids life just by hearing them.

"Next!"

The blond teller looks at me with soft brown eyes and smiles sweetly from behind the counter as I heft my coffee can up onto the counter.

"Hi, I'd like to deposit this into my saving account please."

Her brown eyes soften even more and her smile slips from her face as she tells me how sorry she is that their change counter is out of service and won't be up and running again until Monday , I just walked 9 blocks in the cold carrying this heavy can full of change, I'm already late to meet my boyfriend for coffee at a coffee shop that is 4 blocks from the bank in the opposite direction from my most recent foster home. Now I have 2 choices. 1 is to cart my can to the coffee shop and then cart it the whole way home later, or 2 cart it the whole way home and risk making Simon even angrier with me for being late, that is if he is willing to wait on me to show up at all. Stay positive Clary! Yes positive, just think of the surprise workout I'll gain from taking the unexpected trip with my heavy can back home and then once more on Monday when I return to the bank to deposit it. (Only on Monday I will be sure to call the bank to make sure the change counter is up and working before I walk the 9 blocks with my red can) See there I did it I turned a negative into a positive and learned a valuable lesson today.

I glance at the clock on the bank wall and it reads 4:54pm; aside from me and grumpy guy behind me in line there is only one more customer in line, a heavy set woman in her mid-thirties who looks like she could use a good shampooing on her hair. Confidently I lift my red can back into my arms and proceed to exit the bank feeling hopeful that Simon will understand my tardiness. I turn my back to the swinging glass doors and bump them with my butt to leave but am suddenly sent into a state of shock as my red can flies to the floor with a loud crash and my body is being lifted into the air as I hear the words:

"Nobody MOOOOVE this is a stick up!"

Seriously am I dreaming, who does that this day and age with all the security! This must me some kind of prank teenagers are playing so they can post the video on YouTube for kicks. But to my utter disappointment I see Mr. Grumpy and Ms. Greasy hair drop to the polished floor like flies that just got sprayed with pesticides. The blond bank teller no longer has her sweet smile or her soft eyes. No now her eyes are as big as lemons and her mouth is pursed like she just sucked on one of the lemons that are now her eye size. She has her hands in the air and she is visibly shaking, shaking like a leaf, shaking like a scared cat that just got its first flea bath after being found behind some dumpster on Third Avenue by a 6 year old boy that coaxed his mom into taking home.

A man wearing a ski mask (yes a ski mask, couldn't come up with something more original) steps off to my left side slightly in front of me so that I can see him. He's tall (but at 5 foot 2 inches everyone seems tall to me) and he's thin, possibly muscular it's hard to tell considering he's dressed completely in black. He is wearing sunglasses but his neck is showing and I can see that he is a white man, in fact he is so white he seems transparent, but maybe it's the harsh lighting in the bank, or the stark contrast of his black clothing or possibly my frantic mind playing tricks on me. I at some point am carried into the center of the bank closer to Mr. Grumpy and Ms. Greasy hair and now have my feet planted down onto the polished floor. But he is holding me tight, and he's strong I can't move and it's hard to take full breaths of air he's holding me so tight. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, I don't think I have ever heard my heart pound so hard or so loud in my life, it's so loud it makes it hard to concentrate on my surroundings. I can't breathe, oh god I think I'm going to pass out!

"shhh…calm down. If you stay calm and quiet you'll be okay I promise"

He (the man holding me) whispers these words so quietly into my ear while his partner continue to shout demands at the blond bank teller that I almost didn't hear him. But his hand, his left hand the one that is holding my right arm like a vice loosens its grip just enough to move quickly up and then back down my arm before the vice locks back down. I'm guessing this was his sad attempt at soothing the poor little girl in his grips. Dear god for once in my teenage life I'm actually thankful for being so tiny and looking like I'm only 13 maybe they will let me go and not hurt me, no one want to go down for hurting a kid, that's the worst. Sure, sure, rob a bank, shoot Mr. Grumpy in the face and kick Ms. Greasy hair in the ribs a few time but don't hurt the child. You see when you get caught for robbing the bank all the other prisoners that are locked up with you, those are the people who you should be scared of the most. Not the cops, not the judge, not even the jury, nope it's the prisoners that you eat with, shower with, and breathe the same air with that you truly fear. Because you see to most criminals the worst crime you could ever commit is one of violence towards a child. That's right keep positive Clary! Good girl, don't be a negative Nancy or a Debbi downer, no Clary stay positive! That's right turn that frown upside down and embrace you childlike looks. I slowly start to calm myself, concentrating on my breathing, deep breath in and exhale. I repeat this process 5 times before my pounding heart begins to quiet down and my chest no longer hurts from struggling to take such big breaths of air.

Wooosh, good job Clary you didn't pass out. Think, think maybe I can get out of this! I know play the sad child, the fact that Mr. Vice (that's what I'm calling the man holding me) whispered those words to me must mean the other one is in charge here and Mr. Vice is only doing what he's told and maybe he really can keep his promise to me. Yes I have to try to play the child here. I clear my throat and place my small left hand on top of Mr. Vice's large tan right hand that is crushing my ribcage. I feel his whole body tense at my touch but his grip on me doesn't loosen, if anything his grip tightens on me. In my softest sweetest (hopefully childlike) whisper I turn my face slightly towards his chest away from The Boss Man (that's what I'm calling the other one) and say:

"P-please don't hurt me, I just want to go home to my mommy…please I'm scaa-aared (I added a fake sob there, nice right?)"

Mr. Vice tenses again and lets out a sigh before whispering:

"Please be quiet and keep still…you're going to get us both in trouble"

I can feel his breath on my neck and it tickles my ear, I find myself almost shocked at the fact that his breath smells minty (as though before him and The Boss Man decided to rob this bank he found it important to practice good oral hygiene) yep minty not fowl like an ashtray or stale like last night's bottle of whisky but minty fresh.

BANG!

My ears are ringing and I can barely hear Ms. Greasy hair screaming like a stuck pig and The Boss Man is yelling at her to shut her fat mouth before he shoots her next, and even quieter still I can hear the sweet music of police siren off in the distance. I'm so overwhelmed my heart starts to pound in my ears again and then someone turns off all the light and then there is blackness and everything is quiet.

CHAPTER 2

"Damn it Mark! I told you this was a bad idea! I told you this would never work!"

"Shut your fucking mouth Jace! We got the money didn't we? We got away from the cops didn't we?"

"Yes we got the money! Yes we managed to get away from the cops, but we are still fucked! Why couldn't we leave her there? Why did we have to take her?"

"Man, fuck that little bitch, don't you get it Jace? This is perfect, this little girl is our get out of jail free card."

"How do you figure kidnaping a little girl somehow equals a get out of jail free card"

"Boy you really are just a dumb kid aren't you? What the hell was I thinking bringing a 17 kid in on this? I thought you said you could handle this!"

"I can handle this…I am handling this, but could you just explain this to me? Kidnapping was never part of our plan, yet you seem to have this all figured out. I guess I just want to know what's next? What's our next step?"

"And you're not going to bitch out on me?"

"No Mark I'm not going to bitch out, just tell me what we do now…please?"

I'm tied up and there is tape over my mouth and there is something covering my face, maybe a pillow case or a t-shirt whatever it is I can see light through it. I keep still and I keep quiet as I listen to Mr. Vices' and The Boss Mans' conversation. I guess they have names I can call them by but I doubt those are they're real names anyhow (Isn't that the first rule when committing a crime? Use fake names?) I know that Jace is Mr. Vice I recognize his voice, and by the way he's talking he sounds as scared and shocked as I feel. Mark is The Boss Man then, I wonder if there is a third man, like a driver, isn't there always a getaway driver in these situations? But I only hear two voices – Jaces' and Marks' (Mr. Vices' and The Boss Mans') so maybe there is just the two of them or maybe Mr. Driver isn't a loud to talk, or maybe he can't talk like maybe he's a mute or something? (Yeah Clary The Boss Man put an add in the paper WANTED: One mute whom can drive really fast) God I think I'm hallucinating, maybe it's just a defense mechanism so my brain doesn't explode from fear and whatever was covering my face is quickly snatched away and I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the setting sun that is shining right into my eyes. I glace at my surroundings only to find that we are in a van of some sort but it only has 2 seat ,a drivers and a passengers, and the rest of the van is stripped down to the bare metal. There are 2 large duffle bags at my feet that I assume hold the money from the bank. I look up to see a man pointing his finger in my face but his head is turned so I can't really see his face. He has dark hair almost black (possibly dyed it's so dark)

"This little girl, this one right here! This little girl IS OUR GET OUT OF JAIL FREE CARD JAAACE!"

"Okay, okay Mark stop yelling…you keep saying that but what do you mean by that? How is she going to keep us from going to prison?"

Jace is sitting on the floor of the van with his back up against the passenger seat with his knees pulled up to his chin. He is blond and in need of a haircut or at least a comb. His eyes are light and alert and the color of warm honey, golden and soft. He has a strong jawline and his eyebrows have the kind of natural arch that most girl would be envious of. I can't believe I'm seeing him like this (he and The Boss Man kidnapped me for Christ sakes!) but, Jace is beautiful, not cute, not handsome, not any of those word that you would use to describe an attractive male, but beautiful. I feel somehow less than compared to his beauty. I can't help but wonder what the hell has this kid (according to The Boss Man, Jace is just a 17 year old kid) gotten himself into? Why isn't he modeling underwear, or Hollister T-shirt in some magazine instead of here trying to go up the river without a paddle? Because let's face it there is no way in hell they are going to get away with this! Not now, not in the year 2014. The cops must be hot on their trails by now right?

"Jace, Jace, Jace don't you get it? Let me explain this to you so your pretty blond head will understand it. Okay think of her as more of a life insurance policy that we can cash out on if shit goes wrong. Are you following me so far kid?"

"Don't call me kid. I'm not stupid. I just want you to tell me how we cash in this insurance policy"

"Stop looking at me like that! We probably won't have to even do anything with her anyhow. We got out, we got the money, and the fucking cops have no clue who we are or where we are for that matter. So for now we'll just keep her with us until we need to make our move to Mexico. If all goes as planned we can dump her once we cross the border, but worse case scenario if the shit starts to come down we can use her to get safe passage out of the country."

I'm so confused by this conversation, what does he mean dump me off when they cross the border? Like literally just dump me off out in the dessert so I can what? Get kidnapped again and sold to a Mexican prostitution ring? Or dumped as in shot in the back of the head and left for the crows to eat. And what does he mean by use me to get safe passage out of the country in the worst case scenario?

"Okay I'm following you so far Mark, but how exactly can we make that work? How is this little girl going to get us to Mexico when the shit starts to come down?"

"IF! IF DAMN IT! IF THE SHIT STARTS TO COME DOWN!"

"Please stop yelling. Can't you see your scaring her?"

Mark looks right at me and I finally get a good look at him. He has dark eyes almost black like his hair, he too has a strong jaw line like Jace. Mark has full lips, almost pouty lips, and when he frowns there are small wrinkles at the corner of his mouth. Mark is a good looking guy. I can acknowledge that much but there's something scary about his eyes and he's older than Jace maybe 25 or 27 I'm not sure exactly but he's definitely older. He has that weathered look to his skin. He has a harsh look in his eyes and an even harsher tone to his voice. Like he's been around, seen a lot and done a lot of bad things in his life. He takes the time to scan my face like he's trying to read a book that's written in a foreign language before he closes his dark eyes and hangs his shaking head. I peel my eyes away from him and risk a glance at Jace who is also looking at me like he's trying to read a foreign book, but the look in his eyes are almost franticly trying to decode the language. Like if he can somehow decode the language he can keep the world from blowing up. I can't help but feel the urge to smile at him, smile at him so I can make him stop struggling to decode the language. (Because let's face it, if they are planning what I think they are planning there will be no world left for the 3 of us. None for them because they will live out the rest of their days rotting away in some prison, and as for me I will end up making a nice meal for the crows.) But no, I don't smile what I do is start to cry because Positive Clary has just turned into Hopeless Clary. I don't make any sound as I cry yet the tears stream down my face at a steady rate as I look into gold eyes that are looking right into my green ones before he can't stand the site of me any further and storms out of the van saying he just needs some air.

CHAPTER 3

Jace has been gone for about 10 minutes and Mark is just sitting on the floor of the van staring up at the ceiling. He's staring so intently at it I think he might have forgotten I was even sitting next to him. I'm glad he forgot I was here because for that short amount of time that Mark and I made eye contact a feeling of unease washed over me. He made me feel funny in my stomach and I feel like I'm not safe alone with him for any length of time. It's crazy but I actually want Jace to come back. Maybe he will get too overwhelmed by all of this and realize he really is only a 17 year old kid that shouldn't be involved in all of this, and then maybe he will let me go. Help me get away. (Look at that maybe Positive Clary is still in there somewhere.)

Hopeless Clary just choked the last bit of life out of poor little Positive Clary when Mark suddenly remembers I am in the van with him and turns his dark eye on me.

"What's your name little girl?"

"C-Clary"

"Clary huh? Just Clary or is that short for something?"

"My name is Clarissa but no one call me that, everyone calls me Clary."

Oh god the way he's looking at me I have that sick feeling in my stomach again. Those black eyes of his are raking their way up and down my body and all over my face, literally raking. I can almost feel my skin being ripped opened by his eyes.

"So Clarisssssa, how old are you?"

LIE CLARY! LIE YOUR LITTLE ASS OFF!

"I-I j-just turned 13."

"Really? Only 13 huh? I would have guessed you were older. Maybe 17 or 18."

Now he's the one who is lying. There is no way he thinks I'm 17 or 18. He must be trying to flatter me, because we all know if you tell a 13 year old girl she looks much older it make her feel special. Special my ass! All I feel right now is sick. Sick and scared. Sick and scared, and completely panicked. Why is he looking at me like that? Where the hell is Jace? Simon must hate me by now. I was supposed to meet my boyfriend for coffee at 5 and it must be after 7 by now. My god what the hell he must be thinking of me by now.

I met Simon at the group housing. He came in with his mother, she was looking to foster a kid, but of course not me. No, Mrs. Lewis was looking for a baby or at least a kid young enough that she could snuggle with and cut the crust of their sandwiches. So yeah I met Simon at the farmers market (that's what us kids call open visitation day so all the potential foster parents can look over the produce, to see which one of us was ripe, not ripe, or possibly even rotten) and we hit it off immediately. He was funny and geeky, and he felt safe to me. So he gave me his number and told me to call him if I ever wanted to get coffee or to just hang out.

A week went by before I called him, we met for coffee and had a wonderful day together. We must have sat in that coffee shop for half a day just talking and laughing. I really like Simon. He is very sweet, and he's not terrible to look at. He has warm brown eyes the color of coffee with just a drop of cream in it. He has curly hair that can look unruly when he needs a haircut, which let face it he always looks like he needs a haircut.

That was almost 6 months ago that I met Simon. I met him 2 weeks after I turned 15 and we've seen each other almost every day since we met and I have enjoyed all of it until about a month ago. We were watching movies at his house and his mom was working a double shift at the hospital so we were alone for almost 16 hours. And what do teenagers do when they are alone? That's right! They get into the liquor cabinet and get drunk off of peppermint schnapps. We were drunk and giggling like 5 year old by 9pm. Simon said something extra funny and I just couldn't stop laughing! Next thing I know I'm running to the bathroom and puking my guts out. Simon came in and held my hair for me while I was evacuating the peppermint schnapps out of my stomach. When I finally stopped retching he handed me a bottle of Listerine and wiped my face off with a wet washcloth. I thought to myself, this boy is so sweet to me. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. It was my way of saying thank you, thank you for being sweet to me, thank you for taking care of me. Simon hugged me back and kissed my forehead, the next thing I know we are making out on the floor of the bathroom and he has his hand under my shirt. We both snapped out of our make-out session before things got to out of hand and agreed that we had too much to drink and went to sleep for the night. Me in his bed and him on the couch.

Now here is the problem with that one drunken night of making out on his bathroom floor. I realized that I was in fact too drunk to know what I was doing and I ended up avoiding Simon for the next 2 weeks. So you see he has only really been my boyfriend for about 2 weeks because after dodging him for almost 2 weeks I missed him terribly so I finally called him. When we met for coffee late that day I told him that the night in the bathroom felt like a mistake to me. The way he looked at me as I said the words nearly broke my heart. All that I could think of was no, no, not like this, I don't want to lose my friend! So I chickened out and took the only path I could think of at the time and started back peddling. I told him what I really meant to say was that we just got to intense that night, and that I just wanted to take things slow. Hearing this brought the sweetest smile to his face and that sweet smile of his finished my nearly broken heart off and it shattered into a million pieces because at that moment I realize what a critical error I just made. So for the past 2 weeks we have been holding hands and exchanging a few awkward kisses. Man I have no right to judge Simon but he is a terrible kisser. Or perhaps it's just because I'm not attracted to him. Now I realize that I've never had a boyfriend before Simon but isn't there supposed to be some kind of feeling you get when your dating someone? Aren't teenager filled with raging hormones? The only feeling I get when Simon kisses me is uncomfortable. Not the kind of

uncomfortable feeling I get when Mark looks at me. No the kind of uncomfortable feeling you get when you realize that one day soon you will have to break this boys heart because he doesn't make your hormones rage.

"No sir, I'm only 13."

"13?...What do 13 year old girls do for fun nowadays?"

"I don't know…"

"Okaaay, what do you do for fun then Clarissa?"

"Uuum…I like to read I guess"

"READ! HA! Well that sounds super fun now doesn't it?"

I need to be careful of what I say to him and how I word things. If I'm not careful he might see through my lie, and that could be dangerous for me. He's looking at me, measuring me up to be exact. His mouth opens as if he were about to say something but before he gets the chance the door to the van slides open and Jace climbs in and shuts the door behind him.

"Mark do you think is safe to move out of here yet?"

"I think we should wait till midnight just to be safe."

"Okay well we should probably start the van and let her get warmed up a little bit then."

"Are you cold Jace?"

"Me? No I'm fine but the girl is probably getting cold."

"She has a name you know."

"Oh….what is it?"

"Clarissa."

"P-please call me Clary, I don't like to be called Clarissa, it makes me feel like a child."

There that's the right way, 13 year old girls always complain about beingtreated as children. Keep it up Clary and they will never know your lie. For good measures I decide to stick my tongue out at them both. Now I am faced with two different people with two very different reactions. Jace finds my 13 year old girl attitude to be comical so he let out a small chuckle of laughter. But Marks' reaction is much different than Jaces'. Mark is mad! He launches himself at me and grabs my face in his hand and squeezes hard enough it brings tears to my eyes.

"You want to keep that tongue little girl?"

His breath is hot on my face, and its fowl like sour milk, I want to gag but I don't for fear this will only set him off further.

"Hey come on stop it! You're hurting her."

"What the fuck's it to you if I hurt her?"

"Come on Mark she's just a kid."

"Yeah just a kid…un-huh sure. Clarisssssa here claims she's only 13. I think the little bitch is lying. What do you think Jace? You're closer to her age than I am so maybe I'm not the best judge."

"If she said she was 13, then she must be thirteen."

"Oh really and you don't think she's lying to us?"

"No I don't think she's lying. Usually when young girls lie about their age they are trying to convince people that they are older not younger. Only old women lie about being younger than they are.

"Damn it Jace that's not what I asked you! I fucking asked you how old she looks to you!"

Jace finally looks me strait in the eye for the first time since I scared him out of the van earlier. His eyes squint as he takes me in after a short moment he tilts his head to the side and smiles at me while saying:

"Honestly Mark I don't think she's lying, she really only looks to be about 13 to me."

Did Jace just lie for me? I can't be totally sure but there was something about the way he smiled at me, almost like he should have added a wink and said don't worry your secrets safe with me. But why would he lie for me if that is in fact what he just did? Is he protecting me from Mark's leering eyes? Shut up Clary! You are such and idiot he probably didn't even lie for you because you do look 13! Besides even if he did figure it out it doesn't matter these two kidnapped me! I AM NOT SAFE!

"Whatever…I'm going to go get some beer."

"Beer? Do you really think that's a smart decision Mark?"

"Fuck off Jace! Don't you forget whose running the show here kid! Now, I'm going to get some beer I will be back in 20 minutes."

A moment later I can hear another vehicle start up and drive away on what sounds like a dirt road. I listen until I can no longer hear the sound anymore. Jace is sitting up in the front of the van in the passenger seat staring out the windshield. I take this time to really look him over since he can't see me. He's tall (again everyone is tall to me) probably at least 6 foot tall but can't be sure because he's sitting down. He has on all black clothes like Mark did at the bank. Before Mark left he removed his black sweat shirt and slipped on a light grey jacket over his plain white t-shirt. Mark also took off his black boots and replaced them with tennis shoes and then put a Steelers hat on. Why? So he could look less like the guy that just robbed a bank and more like your average Joe out to grab a six pack on a Friday night?

Jace has blond hair, not out of a box blond but actual blond hair. The hair on his eyebrows are the same color, so unless he dyed his eyebrows it's probably safe to say that blond is indeed his natural hair color. I thought earlier that he was tanned, but I realize that he just has a natural golden complexion. Well its either natural or he spends time in the tanning bed. Its mid-November now and Pennsylvania hasn't had sun bathing weather for over two months now. Jace now has his head resting on the seat and he is looking up at the roof of the van so now I have a perfect view of his side profile. He has nice cheekbones that are almost sharp looking from this angle. I bet if he was to lose even the smallest amount of weight those cheekbones might cut through his golden skin. He closes his eyes and let out a loud breath. His eyelashes touch his cheeks, no fair why does he get long beautiful eyelashes? Mine are so short they are almost nonexistent, and with my fair red hair the only way you even know I have eyelashes at all is if I wear mascara. Mascara is as about as much make up I ever wear other than a little bit of light lip gloss, but honestly I don't usually bother with either. I usually just have a tube of cherry chapstick with me, but not today, I left it in my other jacket because the jacket I have on is heavier since it is colder today and I had so far to walk. Knowing I don't have my chapstick brings surprising new tears to my eyes. I know it sounds stupid but I feel like maybe if I had it some-how it would bring me some form of comfort.

I want to talk to him. No I don't want to talk to him, I want to beg him to untie me and let me go before Mark gets back. I know he won't let me go so I don't bother begging him to, but I wonder if he would loosen the ropes on my wrist? I wonder if he would tie my hand in front of me instead of leaving them tied behind my back? My shoulders are starting to ache from being tied this way. I wonder if he could start the van or give me a blanket? I'm cold, cold enough that I have to fight the urge to shiver. I am also thirsty and surprisingly kind of hungry. I wonder if he would give me a drink of that water that I cans see setting in the cup holder? I wonder if he has a candy bar in his pocket that he will give me? I wonder if I should stop wondering so much and just close my eyes like Jace has his closed, maybe I could sleep, or at least pretend for a while that I'm not in this cold van. Before I can close my eyes, Jace opens his and leans across the van and starts the motor. He raises himself up and proceeds to turn some switches on the dash and I can hear the rush of the heater vents. For a moment he just stays in that position half sitting half leaning out of the seat and stares out of the windshield, before finally getting up and making his way towards me.

I feel my body tense as he nears me, he doesn't say anything and he won't look me in the eye. He stands right beside me, so close that his boot almost is touching my knee. A moment later he lowers himself so that he is sitting on his knees like I am and he places his hand on my shoulder and leans my whole body forward. I can feel my breath getting faster and my heart starts to race, what is he doing?