My dear little broccolis💚💚💚

💚 Enjoy

💚 Second Chances 💚

Chapter 21 (1,4K)

Clary's PoV

I still don't know what to do. As expected, home was empty, but there is no way in hell I am going back to the Institute. I just … if Jace and Johnathan were raised by the same man, they're more than likely having the same trail of thoughts, and no matter what, I'm not risking it. I mean, so many times I saw little things in Jace that made me think of Johnathan, but I dismissed them. I should stop questioning my guts and just follow it from now on.

It just feels like … I have given what was left of my heart to another monster. A true one at that. A more vicious one who made me believe in myself first. It did seem odd to me that Jace knew what Jonathan did to me, without me saying a word about it. But now I know that he had the details first hand. Which I think is even more demoniac.

I mean, he knew about my past, and made me trust in him, made me believe that he was good, sweet, nice. All lies. Bullshit! How could I have been so stupid? Why, oh why did I open my heart to him so easily, so he could stab it mercilessly?

I take a deep breath and quickly put some clothes in a bag before going to the secret hideout, praying that the emergency cash is still there. I see that the amount of dollar bills is still there, and I take the time to open the envelope Magnus gave. I find in there two fake IDs, saying that Mom and I are Irish that our names are Lynn and Clare Fair.

I don't know why, but this gives me a shiver. I really don't know much about my Mom after all. I know nothing of her past life. She never talks about it, but I never asked either. Silly me! I never asked about her childhood, her parents. All I know is that she once said they are dead. But that's pretty much it. And now, she is missing, and I have no clue where to start looking for her.

I shake my head and get ready to leave when my eyes fall on a picture of Mom. It's the picture where she is obviously pregnant with me, leaning against a tree and caressing her tummy with love like Moms-to-be like to do. She's harbouring a blazing smile on her face, glowing with love. So I take the picture with me and leave, without sparing a glance back.

I head toward Central Station, still unsure of what to do. I mean, I could go to Luke, but he still hasn't found her, has he? And the only person I think can actually help me is Jordan, but I don't know where he lives, and I left my phone back a the Institute.

I look at the sky, hoping to have a revelation of some kind, but I only feel overwhelmed by an idea that has nothing to do with my Mom. It's just … an urge that I desperately need to fulfil. So I put my bike into gear, and drive to the one place I know I will get what I want, even though it does do something to my heart to go there without … Jace.

I enter the shop unceremoniously, and Hodge is there on his own. Hodge is … kind of odd, if you ask me. I mean, if you meet him in the streets, you'd never guess that he's a tattoo artist. You'd think he's a librarian or some shit like that. I mean the man is wearing a neat grey tweed suit. He screams more Pr Moriarty than tattoo artist, but who am I to judge? He also has a long thick scar on the side of his face, but it makes him more pitiful than scary, in my eyes.

When he recognises me, his eyes open wide with surprise, "What do you want sweetheart?"

"A tattoo."

"Again? You got infected by the tattoo addiction?" He mocks, and I just shrug

"You could say that."

I don't want to get into the state of my emotions and mind right now. He nods and makes me sit on the chair, asking me what kind of design I want. I tell him that I want it on the bone behind my ear, and he leaves for a moment as I quickly draw something on the paper, a sort of eye with one line going through the inner corner and another crossing its way

It's something I drew the day that followed my nightmare with Jonathan and all it inspires me is … being fearless. It's like drawing this puts all my fears aside, and that's exactly what I need right now. To be fearless.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

"I always knew that you would get tattooed one day or another."

I freeze on the spot, recognising this voice amongst a thousand. This awfully familiar voice. I have just left Hodge's shop, and I was about to hop back to my bike. Slowly, I turn, putting my keys so all the pointy ends would stick out of my fist and there is he.

Standing, just five feet away from me and leaning against some red sports car. His hair has grown a few inches since the last time I saw, and his face seems … less demented than then. But I'm not stupid.

"What the fuck do you want?" I hiss.

"Language Clary. 'Fuck' is not a pretty word for your mouth!"

"What the fuck do you want?" I repeat, not caring the least in the world about his lessons on manners.

"To talk."

Is he being serious? Does he really think that we can talk? Last time he 'talked' to me, I ended up on a bed, with him on top of me! And yet, I can't help but notice that he does seem different. It looks like he's no longer animated by this mad fire that was burning in his eyes. He even seems … in anguish? But still …

"I don't want to talk with you! I don't want to even see you or breathe in the same area as you!"

"I understand, and I'm sorry. I truly am sorry for what I have done, and you might never forgive me for that, but we actually have to talk."

"Fuck you ..."

"Clary, this word is not for you. And I am really sorry. I shouldn't have done that, and leave you there. That wasn't me. I changed. I go by Christopher now." He says as if this absolves him of anything.

"I don't care. Jonathan or Christopher, you're still the same person who ..." I choke on the word. I just can't. I still can't say the word out loud. Just thinking about it makes me sick and want to cry, so saying it …

But he finishes my sentence for me, clearly tortured as he says it, "… The person who raped you. I know. As I said I'm not looking for absolution."

I don't say anything, holding my tears back. I'm just ... so angry at myself for being able to shut him up, or just kick his ass. But I am also scared of the game he is trying to play. Pretending to be nice and t redeem himself, just to stab me later in the back. I already had that with Jace.

"How did you ... get back home?" He asks, and I just ignore him.

There is no way in Hell I will talk to him anymore. And I will certainly not tell him how I managed to survive after what he has done to me. I don't want him to know anything about my life after him. He doesn't have to know that it was Jordan who came looking for me seeing that I wasn't home nor answering my phone and that he found me curled up on myself, crying the life out of me. He had looked at me for at least 10 minutes, not sure of what to do before he knelt to my level and told me he was about to take me in his arms to bring me to Simon's: he didn't want my Mom to see me like that.

I shake my head to get rid of these memories and look back at Jonathan/Christopher, whatever his name is at the moment.

"You wanted to apologize, I heard you. Now leave me alone and go, I have better things to do." I say because I am certainly not going to turn my back to him so he can follow me.

"I know." He calmly says.

"What do you mean 'you know'?

"Maybe you should come with me."

"Like Hell, I'll follow you anywhere!"

"Language, Clary. You'll have to follow me. I know where is your Mom."

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚

💚 Hihi, Jonathan is finally an actual physical character … what do you think?

💚 and he knows where Clary's Mom is … interesting …

💚 And clary has a second tattoo now. And a picture in her bag, with the cash and fake IDs

💚Well, let me know what you think. What was your favourite part? What do you think will happen next?

💚 Cassandra Clare owns the names of the characters from the Mortal Instruments franchise, everything else is mine.

Love, Mina💚💚💚