AN: This chapter is going to again earn it's M rating. The next chapters after this will get a bit lighter. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything else you may recognize from published works.
Chapter 4: Paid to Protect You
Sitting in the back of the sedan, I can see Jace's eyes flicking to me frequently in the rear view mirror. My hands are twisted together in my lap.
"Thank you," I say, but it comes out as a whisper. The humiliation of the incident has hit me like a ton of bricks now that we are driving home. His eyes flick to me again.
"What was that?" I take a deep breath.
"Thank you, for you know, saving me back there or whatever." I look down at my fidgeting finger. He's silent for so long I look up. His eyes are on the road.
"It's what I'm here for. I am supposed to protect you." His voice is measured, controlled. I nod. I know, I think. "You shouldn't have left me at the door," he says. A wave of nausea passes through me at the thought of him not finding me. I knew it had been stupid to leave him, but I never thought…
"I know," I breathe, barely audible to even my ears. Jace's eyes catch mine in the rear view mirror and he nods once before looking to the road. Guilt washes over me in the silence, but I hold my peace.
When we turn onto the street where I live, a new emotion enters my body with a single thought. Fear.
"Don't tell my father," I quickly force out. His eyes are immediately on me in the mirror.
"What?"
"Don't tell him, my father, about what...happened at the club. Please."
"Why?" I look down at my lap. I can feel his eyes on me. I swallow and look up into those golden orbs.
"Please. Please, don't tell him. Just trust me on that. It would be...better if he didn't know." I can't hold his gaze anymore.
"Alright," he says, he voice gentle once more. "But he knows about the little bouncer problem I had."
"What?" My eyes snap to his in the mirror, my breath coming fast.
"I had to call him to get past the bouncer," Jace defends. I'm nodding with my eyes wide. I look out the window and realize we're stopped at the house. I'm nodding again, trying to regulate my breathing and go to my calm place.
"Well," I start, "best go face the music." I open my door and step out, Jace is soon at my side, trying to pick me up. "No," I shake my head, "I can walk and it'd be best that I did." My hand is rested on the doorknob when I turn to look at him. "You might not want to see this," I warn. His eyebrows pull down low and a question is on his lips, but I plunge the door open leaving no time for a reply.
I walk towards the stairs, limping slightly with each step. I'm half way past the parlor room when I hear him.
"Clarissa," Father calls. I freeze. I want to run, but instead I slowly turn to face him. "Come here." His voice is cold and distant, yet I know him well enough to detect the rage hidden just below the surface. I walk towards where he sits, half covered in shadows. I try to hide my limp and stand completely on my right foot when I'm in front of him.
"I heard there was some trouble at the club." His words make me shiver inside, but I try to show nothing.
"Yes," I answer.
"That you denied Mr. Wayland entry with you," he continues. Actually the bouncer denied him entry, but I don't think now is the time to bring up that point. "Why?" He's standing in front of me now. My hands start to shake, I can't stop them.
"I," I start, stumbling through my words, "I...just...I wanted to have...umm...I-"
"You stupid girl," he roars and the back of his hand comes down hard on the side of my mouth. My weight sways to my left foot and fall into a heap at his feet with a small cry of pain. From the corner of my eye, I see Jace take an automatic step forward from the entryway. A look of confusion taints his face as he glances to my father, unsure of what he can do. I shake my head minimally at Jace and hope he understands.
"Stand up," Father says. I struggle to stand, but fall again when I place any weight on my left foot. "What is wrong?" He voice offers no comfort.
"I hurt my ankle," I reply softly. He kneels in front of me and I try not to flinch.
"Let me see it." To spite every survival instinct in my body, I extend my left foot. He takes off the shoe and throws it into my lap. Then his fingers curl around my ankle, digging in painfully to the sprain. I yelp.
"Clarissa," he says, he grip becoming more painful, "this protection isn't about you, but about protecting my organization. Do you understand?" I nod through the cloud of pain. "This will not happen again." I nod again, squeaking slightly though trying to stay silent. His hand is removed and he stands.
"Take her to her room," my father commands to Jace. Jace quickly steps forward and picks me up, pulling me to his chest again.
Jace is somehow able to maneuver us both into the room and shut and lock the door without setting me down. Once he does place me on my bed, he starts pacing. Back and forth, back and forth he goes, muttering to himself. Then he pounds his open hand into the wall. I jump at the sudden sound.
"What's your problem?" I shout at him, standing up, but keeping my weight on my right.
"What's my problem?" he repeats, then louder, "What's my problem?" He's pacing again, pacing towards me and then turns sharply away and back again. "My problem," he mutters.
"Jace," I shout. He turns and looks generally started to see me standing there. "What is going on?" I speak slowly.
"Clary," he starts exasperated. I am slightly aware that is the first time he ever used my name. "I am supposed to protect you. I am paid to protect you." He is speaking clearly and slowly like trying to explain a very simple concept, but I still don't understand what he is trying to say. "And then," his voice is raising again, "I had to stand there as my boss, the one who pays for your protection, HITS YOU." He yells. I can see the frustration etched in every strained muscle though his whole body. I want to comfort him, to take this away. But the other part is angry at him for being frustrated.
"What do you want?" I shout back at him. He looks taken back. "That's the way it is."
"Clary…" His voice speaks of disappointment, I don't know if it's in me or the world, but the message is as clear as day-it shouldn't be this way.
"I didn't say that made it right," I snap pulling myself up to my full height. Though it may not be impressive, I refuse to be pitied. And there he is again, the golden boy with the sad eyes. The one I had seen so long ago, resigned to his fate, but sad none the less. His hand comes up to my face, his thumb touch the corner of my mouth and wipes away a drop of blood.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he says softly. I laugh without humor.
"No one can," I reply coldly. Simon, I think and the thought hurts, but I push it away. When I look back at Jace's eyes, staring into my own, they look like melted gold. His hand was still on my face. He leaned down slowly, but my head still couldn't process what would happen next. His lips meet mine, hesitant and soft. I kiss him back, deepening it. I can taste his regret, his protective nature, and his strenght. He holds me close, but all too soon he steps away. His breath is just as labored as mine.
"Sweet dreams, princess," he says softly, then turns and walks out the door before my mind can catch up.