I know I said I wouldn't include Clary's POV, but I'm weak. So this chapter is going to all be in her perspective, meaning we'll get a little glimpse into what her home life is like.

For future reference: If I don't include whose perspective it is at the beginning of a chapter, it's Jace's.

Please ask me your questions and review!


Warning: This chapter has mentionings of abuse.


Clary

I wouldn't ever admit it, but I was grateful for Jace giving me a ride. In part because it was cold, though I much rather prefered fresh air over the stuffy, copper-tinged confinements of my room, but mostly because I didn't have to strain my body into moving. From the time I'd wake up, to the late hours I'd be taken to bed, passed out in exhaustion rather than submerged in blissful sleep, pain was all I could register. Slight movements eliminated most reminders of the bruises that blackened my torso and lined my spine, coiled around the frail parchment of my arms, and resided deeply embedded in my sore muscles, but I could only avoid walking, sitting down, standing up, and other considerably normal actions for so long.

Most always, I gritted my teeth together and pressed my lips to take my mind off of the mangled skin just beneath the layer of my clothing, flaring to life when I'd least expect it to, a constant reminder that this was my life and there was no escaping it. But I could try. If not for my sake, then for my brother's.

I wanted to tell Jace to take me to a house a couple blocks away from where I really lived, but he was oddly perceptive; even if he didn't necessarily like me, I could count on him to watch my every step until I made it inside my home, and that he wouldn't drive away until I had closed the door. Despite risking my address to Jace's know abouts, I didn't have much to worry about. At least not today. He would still be asleep on his only day off from work.

"Where do I turn next?" Jace breathed. His peculiar colored eyes flickered to mine before quickly averting elsewhere.

I stared ahead, squinting for my street. "It's just up there. The second left."

"You live in a gated community?" he asked, his brows raising and disappearing, buried beneath his mass of messy hair and beanie.

"Don't you?" I shot back, already knowing the answer. This car clearly wasn't a middle-class vehicle. No, a mere teenager whose parents would trust him enough with an expensive showboat is the definitive product of elite living.

He noticeably rolled his eyes, grunting in response.

When we pulled up to the gate, Jace put the car in park. I was thankful that it was such a creamy and stagnant ride, smooth down to every last break, or else I would've been put at the mercy of lurching forward and upsetting all of my new and old marks. "I need your code," he said, already sticking his head out the window to touch the keypad.

"6, 2, 7, 7."

As the wrought iron gates slowly swung open, without so much as a sound, piled snow tumbling to the ground, Jace drove to the end of the street, turned right when I told him to, and stopped in front of one of the larger houses on the block, a three-story, blue and white-painted, impressive piece of architecture. It was obvious that the build was dated, what with its manor-resembling character and cobble-stone breaches, but it had also been newly renovated and modernized per my father's request.

"Nice place," Jace said, eyeing its every detail, down to the tile roof. "I guess this means I can visit you whenever I want now, huh?"

I twisted my lips to suppress a smile. "Not likely."

He turned to face me, a brow raised.

"The code to get it changes monthly."

He scoffed. "Figures."

I managed a small laugh and then went about unbuckling my seatbelt. Just before I left the car, I turned back around to face him with a measured smile. "Thank you."

He leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his bottom lip. "I can give you a ride whenever you need one. I hope now you know that."

"Of course," I said, bobbing my head, though I knew Jace caught my lie.

"See you at school, then." With that, his sleek car was making slow work up the ice-coated road, turning from sight. I pushed a throng of air between my parted lips, the bitter cold pricking at my vulnerable skin. Looking up at the sky, if only to prolong going back inside, where I would most likely reside until my next shift at work or even school, I reveled in the soft flury picking back up again.

The front door opening behind me, however, left me more frozen than winter's breath. There was only one person it could be.

I turned around to face my father, dropping my head immediately, knowing and internally cursing myself for my slip up. How could I have been so stupid to allow a boy I didn't even like drive me home?

"Who was that?" he asked, standing in casual wear, his hands free of pockets of capable of havoc. I didn't miss the warning in his tone, nor the bitterness that pierced me straight through the heart. My breathing hitched and I found myself too scared to meet his gaze. "I recall you telling me you'd be working alone, and yet here you are, dropped off by some soon-to-be washed up high school football player in wheels his daddy pays for."

I bit at my lip, shaking my head. "It wasn't like that. Ja — he came in late to do something for our manager and wouldn't let me walk home. That's all."

He scoffed. "Is that what you expect me to believe? Were you even at work?"

My mouth dropped open as I fumbled for the right words. "Of course I was at work — you have my schedule. I give you one at the beginning of every week. Call my manager if you must. All I did was go to work and get dropped off back here."

"I will be calling your manager. To tell him you're done."

My blood ran cold and I took fevered steps forward. I could not afford to not have a job; it's what mine and Matt's futures were depending on. Even if it was minimum wage, and the paychecks came every two weeks, I needed all the money I could get — especially if the majority of it was going straight to my father's pocket. "Father, please — I swear that's all I did. I always do what you want me to do. I wouldn't dare to do anything else. Please."

"Now we're begging, is that right?" he said, his lip curled dangerously. I looked around frantically, only to see not a soul was outside of their house aside from a man down a couple yards, fruitfully trying to shovel his driveway. He was hard at work, and on closer inspection, his ears were protected my muffs and a hat. My father stepped down from the porch step, and approached me with eased strides. When he reached me, as was expected, my arm was gripped entirely by his hand. "Get inside the house," he seethed, his mouth pressed against the shell of my ear as he pulled me closer. "Not another word."

I was jostled forward, and by the time I had regained my balance, I was sprawled against the porch step, my chin stinging from the impact.

"Get up, Clarissa. I'm not going to ask you again."

I carefully eased my aching body upwards, and mounted the remaining steps. The door was closed behind my father, and then I was being quickly pushed towards the kitchen. To my horror, Matt sat at the island, spooning bites of Lucky Charms into his mouth, still wearing his pajamas.

He smiled instantly, "Clary!" he said, jumping down from his chair. His eyes turned dark right when he was about to fling himself at me, though I still braced for the contact. "What happened to you chin?"

I reached my hand up instinctually and it came back sticky and red.

"Your sister slipped on some ice," our father said, coming to stand beside me. "Nothing she won't recover from."

Matt looked away immediately, refusing his eyes.

In a gentle voice, my clean hand coming to cup his cheek, I turned him towards me. "Why don't you go finish your breakfast, okay?"

He nodded slowly, still hesitant by the other presence in the room. "You should eat with me, Clary. You didn't eat dinner last night. Are you hungry? I can make you a bowl of cereal — I'll even let you have my Lucky Charms. You can have as much as you want," he insisted, pulling my hand away from his face and into his small grip. I resisted his pulling, standing to my full height, knowing the consequences if I didn't.

"That's all right, Matt. I ate a gallon of ice cream this morning at work. I'm full."

I jumped as my father's hand came to touch my lower back, smiling forcefully. "Your sister is just fine. Finish up your breakfast," he said, voice nearing dangerous. I quickly nodded, urging Matt away from this situation. To safety. "Don't come upstairs until I tell you it's okay."

Matt nodded, his sad eyes dropping to the floor. He looked to me quietly, and I knew he was aware of more than I tried to protect him from; it broke my heart. "After can you come to my room, Clary?" Matt asked.

"She'll be tied up for a while, son," our father said, pushing me towards the stairs. I hoped Matt didn't catch onto his innuendo, though as I neared the stairs, all I could think about was what was going to happen to me.


The weight on top of me was eased away, and I buried my face into the pillow, paying no mind to my father pulling up his pants and throwing a shirt over his head. He approached the bed, pulling the covers tighter around my trembling, naked form. A heavy kiss was placed against my temple, and I resisted the urge to vomit the imaginary gallon of ice cream I'd eaten at Happy Cones. "Come down in a couple hours to make dinner," my father whispered, pressing another rough kiss along the corner of my mouth.

His footsteps carried him to my bedroom door, but before he left and turned off the lights to let me rest, he stopped, his figure outlined by the blinding light coming from the hallway. "If I ever see you with that boy again, it won't be you who gets hurt next time. It'll be your brother."

Tears stung at my eyes and I squeezed them tightly together, muffling a cry with my hand as the door swung closed and I was emmersed in darkness.


Dark. Dark. And more dark. Sorry that was super creepy, and I don't condone anything Clary's father has done to her. If it gets more graphic than this, I'll most probably be changing the rating to M. Sorry if this was offensive to anyone! That was certainly not my intention.

Let me know your thoughts.

Until next time.