Hello my lovelies. Welcome back to The Detour. I'm glad you're all liking it so far, even though it's brand new content. I promise(or should I say cross my heart ;)) that I won't let you down. I am constantly growing as a writer and I'm so happy that you guys are on this journey with me. So, enjoy the chapter and those to come.

Also, big thank you to my awesome beta

Disclaimer: All TMI characters belong to Cassandra Clare :)

Chapter Songs:

**Can't Tell Me Nothing by Kanye West (Scene 1)

**Villains by JOHNNYSWIN (Scene 2)

**Fragile World by Alberto Rosende (Scene 3)

Jace Lightwood thrust his hips up one last time into the woman whose legs were wrapped around his waist, his release temporarily calming the storm inside of his head.

When he arrived at the convenience store late that night to buy a pack of smokes, Kaelie had been there working with her father, who owned the gas station. She'd been eyeing him for the past few weeks when he stopped by, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she initiated something.

His theory had been confirmed when he walked through the door to see her manning the cash register. As soon as he purchased his cigarettes, Kaelie leaned in and whispered seductively, "Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes." Then she called out to her father that she was taking a break before closing and sashayed across the store, down a dimly lit hallway.

Jace was amused by her forwardness. She knew absolutely nothing about him—just the rumors she'd probably heard around town—but she was willing to let him screw her in a convenience store bathroom. He knew it wouldn't mean anything, but that just showed the power of his reputation.

Everyone wanted a piece of the bad boy at least once in their life. Jace was the guy women slept with just to have a wild story to tell their girlfriends or future husbands. He was just an experience for them, but he'd never found a reason to care. If they were going to use him, he was going to use them right back. He'd convinced himself a long time ago that meaningless flings were all he deserved.

Once they were finished, Kaelie giggled and dropped her legs from around his hips before smoothing her skirt back into place. "Wow. I can't believe it took us that long to do that."

"Yeah," Jace said flatly, already wanting to go. He didn't do small talk after sex. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Kaelie attempted to lean in and kiss him, but Jace put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" She pouted. "Didn't you enjoy yourself? I sure did."

It wasn't exactly memorable, but Jace didn't tell her that. He just pasted on his signature smirk and unwrapped her arms from around his neck. "Yeah, I did. It's just that I don't do the whole intimacy thing. We got what we wanted, and now it's over. You get that, right?"

"Yeah, I get it," she said. Then she looked him over one last time before opening the stall door. "Just let me know when you want to do that again." With a flick of her blonde hair, she walked away, hips swinging dramatically as she finally left him alone.

The temporary high Jace usually got from sex was now completely gone, which disappointed him more than he could admit. Sometimes he wondered if it would ever get better or if that was as good as it got. Even at nineteen, it actually scared him to think that there was something—or someone—out there that could give him better.

As Jace was tossing his protection and cleaning up, he heard the door open again. For a second he thought it was Kaelie coming back, until he heard the gentle sound of sneakers instead of the clacking of her heels.

When Jace glanced through the small slit in the stall and saw a flash of red, he cursed himself for not moving faster and getting lost in his thoughts. With the woman's timing, he knew she had to have seen Kaelie walking out looking like she did, which meant he was about to do a walk of shame. Though he couldn't have cared less about what others thought of him, this was not exactly how he wanted to be spending his Friday night.

Jace decided before he even opened the door that he would completely ignore the person on the other side. He'd pretend he didn't even know she was there. With that plan in mind, he reached out to unlock the stall door before throwing it open with a little more force than he meant to. His eyes were focused on his jeans as he zipped them up when he heard the tiny squeak come from the woman as she spun around to face him. The sound amused him and he couldn't help looking up to meet her gaze, which was a huge mistake.

Staring back at him was a pair of big green eyes, the color darker than anything he'd ever seen before. They were a little glassy, as if she'd been close to tears and Jace was frozen in place as he took her in.

She was petite, at least a foot shorter than him, so to look up at him she had to tip her head back. Her red hair was long and curly, the tresses falling halfway down her back. She had somewhat pale skin and the bridge of her nose was covered in freckles. Everything about her just seemed so . . . delicate.

Jace felt his heart rate pick up as he looked down at her, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be ignoring her. He didn't like it; he didn't like it at all.

Snapping back into focus, he stiffened up and narrowed his eyes. "Problem?" he asked, the question practically coming out as a growl.

She bit her lip, momentarily drawing his eyes to the dark pink flesh. "Um, n-no. Just wondering if you were aware that this was . . ."

Jace was making her nervous, and he didn't know how he felt about it. "The woman's bathroom? Yeah, I was." He couldn't handle what her looking into his eyes was doing to him, so without saying another word, he moved past her and turned on the faucet.

As Jace washed his hands, he couldn't help glancing back when she didn't move for a few seconds. It was almost as if he rattled her as much as she did him. But he didn't have much time to think it over because a moment later she was grabbing her bag and running to the door. He guessed she had some place to be or maybe she just wanted to get far away from him.

Jace tried to convince himself that he didn't care, seeing as though he would never see her again. He planned on hitting the road and leaving that shitty neighborhood behind anyway. It'd been four years since he was adopted by the Lightwoods, but he still felt like an outsider. He'd been nothing but trouble for them since the moment they signed those adoption papers. A stint in juvie, being expelled for fighting, constantly coming home late with mysterious bruises. Nothing he did brought anything good to the Lightwood name.

But now that his adopted siblings, Isabelle and Alec, were heading off to college—Alec for his second year and Isabelle for her first—Jace felt that there was no reason for him to stick around anymore. This was his way of unburdening the people who took him in, and giving them a chance to be a happy family without him.

Jace was shaken out of his thoughts once again when the girl began banging on the door and shouting. Before he could stop them, the words came flying out. "What the hell is your deal?"

She was still looking straight ahead. "The door," she whispered, looking completely stricken.

"What about it?" he asked, not understanding.

It was then she looked up at him, a helpless look in her eyes.

"It's locked."

.o.O.o.

At her words, Jace shook his head and dried his hands off with a paper towel. "You do know you're supposed to push, not pull, right?"

"Of course I do; I'm not an idiot. It just won't open." She went back to beating on the door and yelling for help.

"Here, let me try," he said, moving over to stand next to her by the door. Making sure not to touch her, he reached out to twist the knob. It moved, so he knew it couldn't have been locked, but when he pushed, he met a ton of resistance. "What the hell?"

"See, I told you!" She ran her hands through her hair. "Oh, my God. I can't believe this is happening."

Jace raised a brow. "What's the matter, princess? Running late for the ball?"

Her eyes snapped up to his. "My name is not princess, it's Clary, and I'm freaking out because the bus I was supposed to be on for my trip just took off without me. And the only person that would even notice I'm gone is—" she suddenly stopped her sentence and pulled her cellphone out of her back pocket, only pressing a couple of buttons before she was holding it to her ear.

Since Jace was so close, he could hear the phone ring for what felt like forever until it went to voicemail. She called a couple more times with the same result, and he could tell it was making her more frustrated by the second.

After seeing that she wasn't going to get an answer, she hung up and hit the door again. "Son of a biscuit!"

Biscuit? Who was this girl?

Even her name, Clary, was as unique as her personality seemed to be. Without even trying, he suddenly remembered a piece of a poem that was about clary sage:

Soft, herbaceous

Bringing forth

Erotic and soft

Jace felt his heart rate pick right back up as he replayed the words in his head. He was clearly losing his mind and needed to distance himself from her as soon as possible. With his hand on the doorknob, he attempted to open the door once again by throwing his body against it, but it was to no avail.

"It's not going to work," she told him. When he looked over at her she had a defeated look on her face. "Besides, it doesn't matter anymore. My bus is long gone and my best friend is fast asleep with no idea that I'm not sitting beside him." Jace watched as she slid down the wall and sat on top of her duffel bag. "I just don't know why no one can hear us."

"I'd say because no one is here," he told her. "I came in a little before closing, so I'm pretty sure the people who own this place are either on their way out or already gone. And even if they were here, it's pretty hard to hear anything over that loud ass air conditioner."

Clary looked up at him with wide eyes. "So you're saying . . ."

"We're on our own, princess. Either we find a way to get out of here, or we wait until someone finds us tomorrow morning."

"I told you my name was not princess, it's—"

"Clary, I know."

She folded her arms over her chest. "There's no way I can wait until then. My friend has to wake up sometime soon. He'll notice I'm gone and ask the bus driver to turn around."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I have to be," she whispered. "If I can't go on that trip, I don't know what I'll do."

By the look on her face, Jace believed her. After giving up on the door for now, he trailed over to the opposite side of the bathroom and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. "Then I guess we'll just have to wait for Prince Charming to come to the rescue," he deadpanned.

Clary watched as he put a cigarette between his lips. "What are you doing?"

He raised a brow as he lit it up. "What does it look like?"

"Those are bad for you, you know. They could kill you," she said.

Jace kept his eyes on her as he blew out the first puff of smoke. "Trust me, my hobbies will kill me before these do." She had a curious look on her face, but he didn't fill in any blanks for her. Of course it was a possibility that she'd heard the rumors.

Jace Lightwood, the street fighter.

It was a popular topic around town. How he made money beating the shit out of other men. That ever since he started at sixteen, he'd been an unstoppable force, with an almost perfect record. He took no pride in what he did, but the money was good and he was exceptional at it.

Though, a large part of him was tired of being at the organizers' beck and call. Jace understood that he was their prized fighter, but he didn't feel like it was all worth it anymore. That was why hitting the road and leaving it all behind seemed more appealing each day. He had no idea what he would do with his life, but he'd figure it out on his own. Like he always had.

Jace's attention went back to her as she stood, fidgeting with her fingers as he finished up the cigarette. It was clear she had something to say. "Spit it out," he grumbled.

Clary looked nervously at her feet. "It's just . . . I know who you are."

He chuckled as he flicked the butt into the sink. "That's not news. I'm pretty sure everyone around here has heard of me."

"But I haven't just heard of you, I've seen you around. We even went to the same high school at some point."

Jace cocked his head to the side. He had to admit that he was a little surprised to know that they briefly went to the same school. He'd never seen her, and he was sure if he had, he would've remembered her. "You mean before I got kicked out?" he said bitterly.

"I guess so. I was a couple grades below you, so it wasn't as if we had any classes together."

He blanched for a second. "Shit. How old are you?"

She furrowed her brows. "Eighteen. Why?"

Jace let himself relax. It made sense, considering he was almost twenty, though he had to be sure. He didn't know why that information mattered to him, but for some reason it did. Maybe it was because he knew the way he'd been looking at her, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"No reason, just making conversation," he lied.

"You don't seem like the type," she said.

"What makes you think that?"

Clary tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know. Maybe because all you've done since we met is growl words at me, give me a heavy dose of sarcasm, and refuse to call me by my name."

Jace smirked. "But you learned all those things by conversing with me, yes?"

Her mouth fell open. "God, you're such a . . ."

"What, princess?" he asked, egging her on.

"You're such a . . . donut hole!" she huffed.

Jace stared at her for a second before bursting out laughing. God, this girl was a character. "Jesus fucking Christ." He attempted to compose himself. "Was that your way of calling me an asshole?"

Clary didn't answer his question, her slightly pink cheeks suggesting she was a little embarrassed. Turning her back to him, she walked back over to her bag and sat down. Her phone was once again in her hand as she seemed to send multiple texts.

Keeping his eyes on her, Jace slid down the wall opposite of her and took a seat. It wasn't as if they'd be leaving anytime soon, so he decided it'd be best to get comfortable—well as comfortable as a person could get in a convenience store bathroom. As he sat there, his tattooed arms resting on his bent knees, he tried to get his mind to focus on something else. Anything other than the intriguing redhead across from him.

"Why are you staring at me?"

Since he clearly wasn't succeeding, Jace decided to answer. "I'm not sure. Just trying to figure you out, I guess."

She broke eye contact, now looking down at her shoes. "Well, don't. There's no point in us getting to know each other. Once we get out of here, we'll never have to see or talk to each other again."

"But don't you think it's a little unfair that you know so much about me and I know nothing about you?" he asked.

Clary snorted. "I'd hardly consider hearing rumors about you from time to time as knowing you."

Jace narrowed his eyes. "So what is it that you think you know about me?"

Her eyes went to the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, then to the butterfly bandage above his eyebrow. "I know you like getting into trouble. That some people consider you dangerous, others as some sort of god. You're very confident, but you also seem angry, bitter even."

This time, Jace was the one to break eye contact. He didn't want to admit it, but she was right, and that made him slightly uncomfortable. "Do you believe those things?"

"The rumors, you mean?" When he nodded, she continued. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sure a lot of the stories you've heard are bullshit. I know there are people that fear me, and also some that want me, but I've never cared. I'm just trying to live my life the only way I know how."

Clary nodded in understanding, but said nothing. Somehow, Jace knew she wasn't judging him, and that made him relax a little more.

They sat in silence for a while. Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace, but when he looked down at his watch, he realized that an hour had gone by without them speaking. She hadn't stopped looking at her phone the entire time, fidgeting more and more as her calls and texts went unanswered.

Even though he was someone who usually preferred the quiet, he couldn't help but try to learn more about her predicament.

"So, why is this trip such a big deal? I'm sure you and Prince Charming can go to Disneyland anytime, right?"

For a moment Clary said nothing, her eyes still trained on her phone. He had just about convinced himself that she was ignoring him until she suddenly spoke. "I know you're just being sarcastic, but this trip was really important to me. It was a month long coast to coast trip, all paid in full. My first chance to see the country outside of Brooklyn."

Jace noticed that she was speaking in the past tense, as if she'd already given up on the possibility of getting back on that bus. "How'd you come across that?"

"The school offers it every year to the students who graduate in the top twenty of their class. Ever since I heard about it freshman year, I worked my butt off to make sure I had a seat on that bus when the time came." She hugged her knees to her chest. "But now . . . now it seems like it was all for nothing."

Now Jace was beginning to understand why she reacted the way she did. "Well, if it's any consolation, I've seen a lot of places, and most of them are just as shitty as this one."

Clary looked over at him. "That doesn't help at all, actually."

He shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Silence passed over them again until she spoke, but this time she seemed to hesitate. "Um, there's still one thing I'm confused about."

"And what's that?" he asked, drumming his fingers against his leg.

"What were you doing in the woman's bathroom?"

Jace furrowed his brows. "Are you serious?" He figured she would've made the connection after seeing Kaelie looking like that. Hell, even a ten-year-old could've made the connection.

"What? Am I supposed to know or something?" she asked.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "God, you really are that innocent aren't you? That girl you saw leaving before you got here, I was with her." When she still didn't seem to get it, he added, "You know . . . having sex."

Clary's eyes widened and she scrunched her nose. "You were making love with your girlfriend in here? Why?"

"First of all, I don't have a girlfriend. Second of all, I don't 'make love'. And I screwed that girl in a bathroom stall because she wanted it," he told her, shrugging.

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap, her cheeks taking on that pink hue again. "Oh, okay. I see."

Jace scoffed. "What? Would you have preferred that I bought her flowers and fucking courted her first?"

"No, I didn't say that." She tucked more of her hair behind her ear. "That's just not the way I would want to do it. I'd like a little romance, or for the person to at least care about me."

"Well, good for you, but that's just not me. The less emotions involved, the better."

"Do you really believe that?" she asked, and she actually had the nerve to appear sorry for him. That only made him angry.

Jace raked his hand through his hair and clenched his jaw. "Okay, listen. If you want to find some douche that follows you around like some lovesick puppy and cries after he fucks you, that's your choice, princess. But don't judge me for wanting to make it out here on my own without getting attached to someone who will only complicate my already complicated life."

Clary's eyes widened and her lips parted slightly at his words. He knew it was crude and not something a girl like her was used to hearing, but it had to be said. He couldn't have her thinking that he was pathetic for not believing in relationships or love. He was better off without those things, because not having anything also meant he had nothing to lose.

Taking in a breath, she seemed to gather up enough courage to say her next words. "If you don't mind, I think it would be best if we just kept to ourselves while we wait this out."

Standing, Jace plucked another cigarette from his pack and placed it between his lips. It seemed as though they were back to square one, both attempting to pretend the other didn't exist. After that little exchange, he'd gladly take the silence. Only this time, he wouldn't screw it up.

"Agreed."

.o.O.o.

They hadn't spoken for hours. Clary stayed on her side of the bathroom and Jace stayed on his. The anger he'd once felt had dissipated, but he didn't dare utter a word. He wouldn't be the one to end their long stretch of silence.

It'd been hard to keep his mouth shut at first, but once her exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep, it became a little easier. That was until Jace realized he could watch her without getting questioned.

She was still in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, her head now resting on the wall beside her. God, she looked even more innocent that way. He felt like an idiot, just sitting there staring at her, but for the life of him he couldn't stop. There was something about this girl that made him curious.

Usually when he was in the presence of the opposite sex, they were either throwing themselves at him or playing coy. But he had a feeling that Clary's shyness and hesitancy wasn't an act. She seemed kind, genuine. Someone who deserved to be as far away from him as possible. He knew from experience that his darkness would consume anyone who got too close.

As Jace watched her chest rise and fall, red tendrils rustling with each breath, he temporarily felt a calmness wash over him. He didn't understand it at all. It had to have been because he was tired and becoming delirious. Just because he couldn't figure her out didn't mean she was somehow special. After they got out of there, he doubted he'd ever think of her again.

Though, for now, Jace would cling to that calmness while it lasted. Tipping his head back, he rested it against the tiled wall and closed his eyes. He just stayed like that for a few moments, listening to her steady breathing—and in his worn out state, it sounded just like the ocean. Like the push and pull of the waves.

With his eyes closed, Jace could almost see it. The never ending crystals of sand, the blue sky reflected on the water, the sun slowly falling below the horizon. There was a poem somewhere in there, and he could think of a hundred poets who could perfectly convey those same images with their words.

If there was anything that connected him to his birth mother, it was the love of poetry. It was the idea that someone could take the simplest of words and turn them into a masterpiece. It wasn't something Jace ever told others about. He had a reputation to uphold after all, but he'd been passionate about it ever since he found her box of poetry at five years old.

Jace had lost count of the number of poems he'd memorized over the years. It had to have been hundreds, at least. Sometimes, when he least expected it, one would come to his mind without warning. It usually depended on his mood or what he was going through in that moment, but more often than not, it was out of his control.

Though, as he pictured those waves, he felt himself drifting more and more. And even though he'd slept in worse places in the past, he wanted to remain alert just in case. He swore to himself that he would only rest for a moment, nothing more. With that in mind, he released a sigh and allowed himself to relax.

Jace was jolted awake what had to have been minutes later, when a loud ringtone began blaring across from him. Clary was wide awake and standing, her attention on her phone as she quickly answered the call and put it on speaker.

"Si!" she gasped. "Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

"I've been asleep, and my phone was in my bag," some guy on the other line said. "Clary, where the heck are you, and why are you not on our bus?"

She looked over at Jace before answering. "We made a stop at a gas station a little after you fell asleep. I got off to use the bathroom and ended up getting locked in here somehow. Si, I'm . . . I'm still in Brooklyn."

"What?" the guy squeaked, and Jace had to hold back a chuckle. "And you're locked in a bathroom? How did that happen?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't still be in here. I just need you to do something for me," she said, pacing. "I need you to go to the bus driver and ask him to turn the bus around and come get me."

"That was the first thing I did when I realized you were gone."

"And?" Clary asked, starting to nibble on her bottom lip.

"Clare . . ." her friend hesitated. "We're in D.C. We just got here a few minutes ago."

"No," she whispered.

Jace looked down at his watch with furrowed brows, his eyes widening once he realized he hadn't been asleep for just a few minutes, but for almost an hour.

"Yeah, they're about to check us into the hotel," her friend continued. "Look, Clary, I need you to know I begged the bus driver to go back once I read your texts, but . . ."

Jesus, Jace wished the guy would just spit it out already.

"But what, Si?"

"He said that it wouldn't be possible. That we're on a tight schedule and turning back would derail the whole trip. He also said you'd be considered a liability, because it's possible you could get left behind again." Clary simply stared down at her phone, and her friend sighed at her silence. "I'm so sorry, Clare. If you want, I can get off and get a bus back home—"

"No," she said, her tone defeated. "There's no reason for both of us to ruin our trip. Stay and enjoy it, I'll be okay. Hey, at least this way I won't have to miss my classes."

Jace could tell by looking at her that she was barely holding it together, but she was trying to appear strong for this guy.

"It won't be the same without you. We were supposed to do this together."

Clary stopped pacing for a moment. "I know, but it's only a month. Don't worry about me; I'll get a chance to see it all someday. I promise."

Excitement suddenly entered his voice. "Hey, maybe you can get another bus and meet us here. They'll have no other choice but to let you back on."

But Clary just sighed. "Like you said, they consider me a liability. I don't think it's going to be possible for me to get back on that bus, Si."

"So, this is goodbye?"

"Goodbye for now," she said. "Take lots of pictures and get a souvenir or two for me, but most of all have fun. I'll see you when you get back, okay?"

"Okay," her friend conceded. "Let me know when you get out of there and make it home."

"I definitely will. Get some sleep for both of us." After saying their goodbyes, Clary hung up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. She was very quiet for a few moments after ending the call, a blank look on her face. Jace figured she'd at least have some kind of reaction to what they'd just heard, but there was a stillness in her that gave him pause. It was like looking at a pot of simmering water right before it began to boil.

Like the asshole he was, Jace couldn't help making a comment in that moment. "So, I guess Prince Charming couldn't come to the rescue. Looks like we're fucked, princess."

Like a flick of a switch, Clary's eyes narrowed on him and her fists clenched at her sides. Then . . . then it happened.

She lost it.

It started with one tear falling down her pale cheek, then another, until sobs suddenly wracked her body. Her hands went to her face, her shoulders shaking and body trembling as she cried. Jace could do nothing but watch as she fell apart quietly in front of him. He knew a better person would've gotten up and tried to comfort her, but he'd been nothing but an asshole to her and was sure she didn't want him anywhere near her. And even if she did, Jace wouldn't know the first thing to do.

So, he just sat there, his back to the wall and his gaze on her as she let it all out. If there had been a way out of there, he would've taken it. He didn't do well with emotions, of any kind, and hers were out of control.

For several minutes, Clary just cried and cried . . . and cried. She cried until her quiet sobs turned into little sniffles, and her sniffles turned into shuddered breaths. It was a roller coaster to watch, and once her hands fell from her face, revealing her glistening eyes and pink cheeks, Jace was surprised to feel his hand twitch. As if it wanted to reach out to her.

What the hell?

Scoffing to himself, Jace tucked his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze from her face.

"I'm sorry if I annoyed you," she said, her voice surprisingly soft. "I guess everything just hit me. Like you said, we're fudged."

He smirked. "Fucked. I said we're fucked."

She shrugged, wiping her face. "That's what I said."

With an amused chuckle, Jace rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. "Guess we'll just have to wait a few more hours for the owner."

Clary's gaze met his as she wiped the last tear from her cheek. A look of determination suddenly formed on her face as she shook her head. "No."

"No?"

"I'm not waiting in this disgusting bathroom for a second longer." Turning her back on him, she strolled over to the door and pushed on it again. When it didn't open, she leaned down until she was on her belly and glanced under it. "There's definitely something blocking the door," she said.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious."

Clary turned to him with a finger against her lips. He rolled his eyes as she faced the door again and began knocking on the lowest part. He had no idea what she was doing, but he stood aside and let her do it, because it was clear that she needed this.

About a quarter way up, she gasped. "Oh, my God. Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Listen!" She began knocking at the bottom of the door again, slowly working her way up. Jace listened closely as she did, and realization washed over him when he heard the dull knocks suddenly turn hollow. "Hear it now?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Suddenly, she stood and he could've sworn he saw her wince a little before she got to her feet, but then she was marching into one of the bathroom stalls, clearly avoiding the one she saw him emerge from earlier. There was shuffling and a clang before she walked back out, the cover to the back of the toilet in her hands.

Jace's eyes widened. "Woah, woah, woah. What do you think you're doing?"

Clary paused in front of the door, her eyes meeting his. "I'm getting us out of here." Gripping the cover hard, she drew back and slammed it forward, the impact making the wood crack. She grinned at the sight and struck the door again, putting a little more force behind it this time. It was like she was using that cover as a makeshift battering ram. And miraculously, the damn thing was working.

Jace didn't understand this girl at all. One minute she was looking shyly at her feet and fidgeting with her fingers, and the next she was smashing a toilet cover into a door with the determination of a bull. It was as much a mystery as any.

Although Clary seemed very determined to get it done on her own, the energy she was exerting was starting to catch up with her. It was clear that her adrenaline was dwindling and the power behind her swings was getting weaker and weaker.

Knowing that she wouldn't last much longer, Jace stepped up to her and grasped the cover. "I've got it."

Clary looked up at him, seeming to hesitate for a split second, but then she released her grip and allowed him to take over. There was already a fist-sized hole in the center of the door, with cracks going every which way. He figured that it'd be a good place to start as he moved to finish what she started.

With Jace's much more powerful swings, that fist-sized hole quickly became larger and larger. Considering he was used to using his strength to fight other men, this was practically a cakewalk. If anything, it was sort of therapeutic. It gave him an excuse to release some pent up anger and frustration. Though he preferred punching assholes in the face, the door would have to do.

After the hole was big enough to look through, Jace dropped the toilet cover as he and Clary took a peek.

"Is that . . ."

Jace scoffed. "A fucking box."

"Of canned soup," she added. "Looks like it fell right between the door and that wall. I guess that's the noise I heard after I got in here."

He narrowed his eyes. "Noise?"

Clary bit her lip. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, but yes I heard a noise. Although, knowing about a noise wouldn't have helped us. A blocked door is a blocked door."

Jace didn't answer. He simply reached up and began ripping off chunks of the door with his bare hands. They'd already made the wood fragile by repeatedly smashing the cover into it, so the rest was easy. Well, for him anyway.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Clary watching him with rapt attention as he tore it all apart. It was odd, because she wasn't checking him out the way he was used to. She appeared to be amazed by his strength alone, not his looks—and Jace refused to acknowledge how that made him feel. It was better for him if women just considered him eye candy and nothing more.

Once he figured he'd torn away enough pieces, he turned to her. "Think you can fit through there?"

Clary looked through the hole and then down at herself. "Um, I think so."

Jace nodded and brushed his hands on his jeans. "Hand me your bag." She looked a little skeptical, but when he gave her an impatient look, she sighed and handed it over.

"Be careful with that," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, princess."

"It's Cl—" she stopped herself. "You know what, it doesn't matter. After this, we'll be on our separate ways."

After carefully dropping the duffel bag on the other side of the door, he stood aside and gestured for her to go through. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Clary stepped forward and threw her leg over the chunk of wood still there, the rest of her body following. Everything seemed to be going fine until she set foot on top of the box and slipped.

Without thinking, Jace reached one hand out to grasp her hand, the other going to her waist to steady her. Clary sucked in a breath, whether from the close call or the sudden contact, he didn't know. But what he didn't expect was the shock that went up his hand where they were connected.

They both froze for a second, and Clary looked up at him with those big green eyes. Glancing down at their hands, Jace couldn't help but notice the contrast between his scarred, tanned hand and her delicate, pale one. That contrast alone was enough to snap him back into reality. This shouldn't be happening.

Releasing her like he'd been burned, Jace stepped back and cleared his throat. "You alright?"

Clary visibly swallowed before nodding. "Yeah." Then she carefully moved the rest of the way out, sticking the landing this time.

After pushing the large box of soup out of the way, she opened the door so he could get out also. It felt good to finally be on the other side of that door. But then he looked down at the damage they'd caused.

"What are we going to do about all this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Leave it and get out of here before we get caught."

Clary frowned. "We can't just leave it like this."

Rolling his eyes, Jace dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. After plucking out a few large bills, he dropped it onto the discarded box and met her gaze. "There. Does that make you feel better?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she seemed to recover, giving him a smile. "That's actually very kind of you."

He scoffed and brushed past her to get to the back exit. "Whatever," he muttered. Pushing through the door, he welcomed the fresh summer air that immediately filled his lungs. The sun was just on the brink of rising, so it was still pretty dark. There was also a stillness in the air, like the world was on pause. It was his favorite time of day.

Clary followed slowly as he rounded the corner, her bag thrown over her shoulder. Jace grinned once he spotted his classic 1967 Ford Mustang right where he left it. The black Shelby GT500 was his baby and he was very protective of it, which was why he parked it on the side of the building and not in front of it.

Once Jace reached his car, he glanced back to see Clary standing a couple yards away, looking a little lost.

"You live around here?" he asked.

She came a little closer. "Um, yeah. A few miles from here, actually."

Nodding, Jace dug into his pocket for his keys. "Okay. Get in, I'll drive you home." Unlocking the door, he waited for her to get in, but when his eyes fell on her again, her demeanor had completely changed.

Clary stood there frozen, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been before. She'd gotten paler, if that were actually possible, and her eyes were wide with . . . fear. He recognized that look immediately, but this girl wasn't just a little scared. She was absolutely terrified. Paralyzed with it.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"I just—I can't go home. I can't," she whispered, almost to herself.

Jace watched her closely. This was another side of her he didn't expect to see. "Okay, where do you want to go?"

Her gaze met his as she let out a shaky breath. "I want to go on my trip. That was all I ever wanted and now that opportunity is gone. You have no idea what that means for me."

She was right, he didn't know. But for some insane reason, Jace couldn't allow himself to walk away in that moment. This girl's life was none of his concern, and he had enough baggage of his own without tacking on someone else's. It should've been easy to leave, it'd never been hard before. But that haunted look in her eyes spoke to him, almost as if he could see his own pain reflected in them. Pain that he worked his entire life to bury.

What Jace was about to do next could turn out to be a huge mistake, but the alternative—leaving her there to face whatever this was—would torment him for a long time. He'd always wonder what if, and he didn't want that weight on his shoulders. He didn't believe in fate or destiny, but maybe there was a reason why they were both locked in that bathroom together. So, he mentally prepared himself before he spoke.

"What if it wasn't?" he forced himself to say.

Clary looked confused. "What?"

Jace ran a hand through his hair. "What if the opportunity wasn't gone?"

"Still not following."

He sighed. "Look, I was planning on hitting the road soon anyway. There's nothing left for me here and I guess you could say I'm looking for a new place to plant some roots."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with me?"

"I assume you did your research on the places you wanted to see?"

"Of course," she said.

Jace shrugged. "Well, maybe I'm in need of a tour guide. Someone to show me the kickass places around this country."

Clary finally moved, stepping closer to him. "Are you saying . . ."

He rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, do I really have to spell it out for you? Do you want to go on your precious trip or not?"

"Oh, my God. You're serious? This isn't a joke?" When he shook his head, that fear visibly left her body, replaced by shock and awe. "How would that even work? I don't have enough money to make this trip on my own."

"What if I told you money was no object?" he asked her—because it wasn't. All of the money he'd made fighting had been stashed away in a secret account for when he decided to venture out on his own.

"I'd be a little surprised, but considering what you just did back there, I'd believe it."

"Good, because it's true. I'll pay for everything."

Clary looked up at him. "Why would you do that for me? You don't even know me."

Jace shrugged. "You're right, I don't, but maybe I want some good karma for once. Also, it doesn't seem like you have anywhere else to go."

"And why would I trust you, after the things I've heard?" she asked.

He sighed and glanced over her head. "I won't lie and say I'm a good person or someone you should trust, but I'm offering this to you because I think you need this escape as much as I do. So, take it or leave it."

Clary furrowed her brows. "So, you'll take me wherever I want to go and you'll pay for all of it, no questions asked?"

He met her gaze. "Pretty sure that's what I said."

She smiled big. "Then heck yes!" Without warning, she lunged forward to wrap her arms around his waist.

Jace immediately tensed, untangling himself from her before she could really hug him. "Okay, but there will be rules. First rule is no more of that."

She blushed and backed away. "Sorry. Um, what are the other rules?"

"We'll go over them on the way." After taking her bag and putting it in the trunk, he unlocked the door. "Now get in."

Clary grinned and hurried to get into the passenger seat, buckling herself in. She was practically buzzing as he started up the car. It was a complete one-eighty from a few minutes ago, and he sensed what was waiting for her at home must have been pretty bad if she was willing to get into a car with him. Especially considering the things she admitted to hearing about him. Though, he tried not to think about that.

She looked over at him. "Can I ask where we're going?"

He suddenly slammed on the gas, causing her to squeal as they sped down the road. She held onto her seat with a death grip, and Jace couldn't help but smirk as he answered.

"First stop is my house, princess."

What did you think?

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A/N: So the journey begins! This is the turning point I've been waiting to get to. As you can see there was an instant attraction between these two, and while there will be no insta-love, you will see that Jace quickly develops a soft spot for the redhead. I cannot wait for you to read it! (P.S. the poem "Clary Sage" is by Rose Heart) Anyway, enough about that, here's the chapter fact,

Fun fact: Months that begin on a Sunday will always have a "Friday the 13th."