Hello again. No words. Read. NOW. This got deleted halfway in. Fuck stupid fanfiction. (I mean the site)

Chapter 2

Clary was right.

It had been only twenty minutes since the boy had taken her mother's car, but it felt like a million years. The boy was driving with his jaw clenched, and he looked like he was having a hard time restraining himself from hitting her. The car was now zooming along at illegal speed on a deserted dirt road, and Clary was shivering like hell because the temperature in the car was only sixty-nine degrees.

She decided to speak to him, because the silence was pain-stakingly annoying. "So...what's your name?"

"Jace. Jace Wayland," Jace answered with gritted teeth. "Stop talking to me."

"Geez, someone's grumpy," Clary muttered. "Are you a teenager?" She asked, mostly out of curiosity, but also to possibly talk her way into escaping, which she knew wouldn't be easy.

Jace's features softened. "Yes, I'm seventeen."

"Not many seventeen year olds have guns. I'm pretty sure it's illegal."

"Well, I'm not a normal teen, little girl, though I may look like one." He retorted.

Clary narrowed her eyes. "My name isn't little girl. It's Clary."

"Whatever. We're here." For once, Clary looked out the window. A three-story house the color of light blue stood tall among uncut weeds and grass. Jace parked the car in the garage, where there was a big blue truck. What was with these people and the color blue? He got out of the car with his Walgreen's bag, and opened the back door for Clary to get out. The second she did, Jace grabbed her arm harshly and pulled her to the door. Clary muttered the words 'fuck you' under her breath.

He tried opening it, but it was locked. He cursed and pounded his fist on it roughly. It swung open just as he was about to hit it the fourth time. A tall girl stood in the doorway, her long black hair half-braided. The linings of her wide brown eyes were smeared black with makeup, which Clary guessed was an accident.

Jace pushed Clary into the house, where she stumbled and hit a wall. Isabelle stood there, shocked. Then Jace locked the car and closed the garage, coming in as well.

"Here's your makeup remover, Isabelle." He stated, shoving the bag into Isabelle's hands.

"Jace," Isabelle said. Jace was busy looking for something in the drawers.

"Jace," She said again.

Jace looked at her, annoyed. "What? Did I get you the wrong brand? I don't care."

"No, the brand is right, but I didn't ask for a car and a girl with it!" Isabelle yelled. "What the hell is the meaning of this? Did you steal the car, or is she here to sleep with you?"

Clary let out a nervous laugh. "Sleep-sleep with him? No way. Never." She was beet red.

Just then, Jace emerged with a roll of duct tape and scissors in his hands. "Well, I guess if she wanted to, I would sleep with her, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen." He shrugged. "Now give me your hands."

About to scream a protest at Jace, Clary opened her mouth, but it was Isabelle who spoke first. "What? No! Go take her back where she came from."

"That isn't likely to happen either. I don't want freckle-face to tattletale to her mother, or worse, the police. They must already be searching for the car."

Isabelle sighed and sat down at the massive dining table. "You're right about that. Once Valentine gets here, we'll decide what to do. He always says, you should plan things out before you steal a car."

Wait, what? Clary thought. So everyone in this house is essentially a criminal?

Clary had slowly started inching toward the garage door. She knew she didn't have the keys to the car, but she could get back to the main road by running, couldn't she? Jace and Isabelle were deep in conversation-no, argument, about what to do with her until whoever this Valentine creepo was got there. She was just about to get the door open when Jace glanced at her.

"Oh, no, you don't." He said, walking towards her. Clary whirled and opened the door running down the steps and out of the garage. Jace was hot on her trail, but she didn't give up. But as she reached about half a mile away from the house, Jace grabbed at her and she tripped on a rock hidden by the yellowish sand and fell hard on her knees, her forehead scraping against the ground. She winced, tears pricking at her eyes.

Jace tried to help her up, knowing that she was hurt, but Clary couldn't stand all that well, and she collapsed again. There was blood all over the sand, and when she looked at her knees, she saw that her jeans were thoroughly torn where she was hurt. Clary started to bawl big, childish sobs, tears running down her face. It was just too much for her. The stupid flu, then the car being stolen, everything. She felt a pair of hands under her legs picking her up, letting them swing. It was Jace.

"See? You shouldn't have run." He started, but then Clary saw an ounce of pity in his eyes through her tears. "Shh. It's nothing to cry about. Just a-um, few scratches."

They were getting awfully close to the house now. For a second, Clary forgot that this was the person who'd just kidnapped her and was willing to do anything, even point a gun at her just so she'd go with him. She buried her face in his shirt and sobbed. Wait, was this sympathizing with her captor? It had been only half an hour!

Then Clary felt air-conditioning surround her. She was set down gently on a chair, and she sniffled, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, you poor thing," Isabelle said. "Here, I'll fix this up for you in a minute."

"I told her she shouldn't have-"

"Jace! Stop talking! This is all your fault, you know." scolded Isabelle.

Jace 'hmmphed'. "I was just saying."

Isabelle moved aside what fabric was left on the knees of Clary's jeans and wiped the scarlet red blood off her split skin. She poured antiseptic on a cotton ball and dabbed it on the cuts. Once that was over, she put Neosporin on there and helped Clary up.

"So, what do we do now?" She asked Jace casually.

Jace shrugged. "I think we should tie her up and lock her in the basement." He suggested.

"No way. She's already hurt. I don't think she'll be able to run anywhere for a while." Isabelle protested. Clary stood numbly with tired eyes. Now she was cold again.

He sighed in response. "Well, then. Maybe we could just lock her in my room upstairs. The window's jammed."

Isabelle nodded absentmindedly, playing with a lock of her hair. "I suppose. Go do it if you want. I'm calling Valentine to tell him about everything."

"Don't," Jace warned. "He'll get pissed off, like, a lot."

"I will anyway. The sooner he gets home with the boys, he'll be able to deal with the situation."

He waved it off. "Fine, fine, call him." He gestured for Clary to follow him upstairs, and she did, limping up at half the speed Jace was moving at.

"Sorry." Clary rasped. Her voice sounded like sandpaper.

"Why are you sorry? You've got a punishment for trying to escape again." Jace reasoned. He was right.

Clary's bottom lip trembled as they reached the end of the stairs. "What are you going to do to me now?" She asked.

Jace ran a hand over his face. "I have no idea." His voice was irritated but he sounded exhausted at the very same time.

He nudged her into a big, posh bedroom. There was a bed with huge, fluffy seats in the middle of the room, and to its sides were two side tables with antique-looking lamps on them. A pine dresser stood in the corner, and there were various photo frames lined across the top. Clary had to admit that she was shocked. If Jace's family was so rich, then why did he need to steal cars?

Oh, right. They got money out of selling stolen cars.

"I'm leaving for now," Jace's voice snapped her out of her mini-trance. "I'll come back in a few hours. Don't try to jump out or unlock the door with anything. It won't work."

Clary stared down at her Converse and nodded silently. Soon Jace was gone, and he'd locked the door from the outside as he'd told her.

Oh, hell, She thought, What have I gotten myself into?

And, um, that is kind of it. I didn't really know where to stop. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the late update. The past week was just busy. School started today and my parents are out for a walk so here I am, writing. Please review because it makes me feel good and thank you to all the kind reviewers and favoriters and followers of this story. You bring my heart up when the rest of me is down. (What up Sam Smith reference?!)