Taking Jace to Jocelyn's grave had been my first step toward mending our relationship and letting him in. After that day, we started to spend a lot of our time together again. He remained in town, refusing to return to the city any time I mentioned it. He would shrug me off, stating that without work, nothing kept him in the city for now. Admittedly, I didn't push too hard on the subject. I liked knowing he was nearby with Jonathan's henchmen possibly lurking in the shadows, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
Leaving the Bureau had shattered any semblance of a career Jace had, and he was determined to find a new path. Eventually, he settled on pursuing a PI license, and most of our time together involved him studying. I would draw or paint as he took online courses and pored over materials. It was nice to just enjoy being in his presence during those afternoons.
Sometimes we'd go to a coffee shop for a change of pace, but most of the time we worked at the farmhouse. I usually ended up making the two of us dinner at the end of every day. It all felt very domestic, like something a couple living together, if not married, would do. But Jace still left for his motel room every night, and things remained mainly platonic. The most intimate thing we'd done was cuddle on the couch during a movie one night.
We took a break from the monotony of our usual routine, and Jace helped me with the one task I had continued to put off: going through Jocelyn's things. He'd easily noticed the one room with a door that was always closed and asked about it. I told him about her studio and how I hadn't been able to even set foot in the space, and the fact I hadn't gone through anything in her bedroom either. Not even her closet or dresser. Like him, I'd been living out of a suitcase since returning to town.
I tightly gripped Jace's hand as we entered the studio, but the second I caught sight of paint on canvas I turned around. Jocelyn had always done much more emotional pieces than I did, baring her soul with every brush stroke. I clearly still wasn't ready to see those parts of her again.
Jace quickly found a solution and offered to go in ahead of me and cover her paintings, that way I could at least work on cleaning the space out. I nodded silently to him, and he gathered spare sheets to place over the canvases before setting them against the walls and out of the way.
He stayed nearby as I picked through paints, brushes and other miscellaneous supplies. The paints were all moldy or dried out and went straight into the trash along with old towels, soap and water cups. Her easel was still in working condition, and while I knew I wouldn't use it, I couldn't bear the thought of parting ways with it either. The same went for her brushes and palettes. I set all that aside to figure out what to do with later.
Jace then helped me actually clean the studio. We picked up trash, wiped down counters, and swept and mopped the floors. I wasn't sure what I would do the space yet, but it felt good to have it cleaned up and aired out. It had been somewhat easy to detach the supplies in the studio from thoughts of Jocelyn. If I didn't think too hard, I could pretend like they were my own things I was cleaning out. We even used a lot of the same brands.
Jocelyn's belongings weren't as easy, though. I couldn't pretend like they had been someone else's. I couldn't pretend the blue sweater with the frayed sleeves hadn't been her favorite top to wear during the colder months or that someone else had worn her sneakers until the soles no longer had any tread. I couldn't pretend it was anyone but Jocelyn who had collected the fairy figurines crowding shelves around the house or that it hadn't been her who purchased all the yoga and self-help books lying around.
Just as he had in the studio, Jace hovered around as I went through Jocelyn's things in case I needed him. There were a few times where he asked questions, and I would tell him stories about my life growing up with Jocelyn. I told him about the hobbies Jocelyn adopted for a day or two before abandoning them as we came across waxes and oils for candle making and the box of picks from when she tried to learn guitar.
I even found old art projects from some of her students and binders full of lesson plans. For as disorganized as she was in her personal life, Jocelyn had always managed to pull it together well for her professional life. As with my own things, Jocelyn's were put into piles to donate, toss or place in the attic.
One box I had been completely unprepared to stumble across. It was full of photos and mementos from her life before I came into it. The life of hers I never knew. Photos of her and Valentine dating, wedding invitations and dried flowers, wedding photos, photos of her pregnant with Jonathan, sonograms, her hospital bracelet from the day she gave birth, pictures of Jonathan growing up, a lock of hair from his first haircut, birthday cards and party invitations, imprints of tiny hands on clay, and her wedding and engagement rings.
All things I'd never seen before. Little snippets of a woman I didn't know, and that killed me. How well had I really known my own mother? She'd kept all those secrets, and I would never get the chance to ask her about the years she spent with my dad. The only other person I could have asked about that period had been Valentine, but I'd never wanted to bring up Jocelyn with him. I would never know how they met, what he did to make her fall for him, how he'd proposed, what their wedding was like, or what raising Jonathan had been like during the earliest years of his life. I shut the box and shoved it back to the corner of the closet where I'd found it, desperately trying to hold back tears.
I'd been melancholy the whole time we sorted through my mom's belongings. Still, Jace immediately noticed the nosedive my mood had taken. He kneeled next to me and pulled the box back out himself before rifling through the contents. He looked at me, the corners of his mouth pulled down in understanding.
"She did it to protect you, Clare," he said softly.
I shook my head, avoiding his gaze as a few tears slipped free. "There's this whole part of here I didn't get to know, and I never will."
He hooked a finger under my chin and turned my head to meet his eyes. "You know she loved you, and she did everything in her power to give you a better life than you would have living with your dad. That's what matters. Not some box of memories."
I closed my eyes, more tears falling. I was so tired of crying in front of him. "But did I take away her happiness?" I whispered.
"Did she ever seem unhappy to you?" he asked.
"No," I answered, opening my eyes to look at him. There had been very few times growing up I'd seen Jocelyn without a bright smile on her face. "But the way she looked with Valentine in those photos. And she kept things from their wedding and her rings. Why would she do that if she hadn't still had feelings for him?"
"He was an important part of her life at one point," Jace said.
"She never dated, just like Valentine. I thought maybe there was something between her and Luke, but maybe I was wrong," I continued. "What if I kept her away from the man she truly loved?"
"Like I said, he was important to her, but that doesn't mean she still harbored feelings. The Valentine in that box isn't the same Valentine she left." He cupped my face and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away the tears. "Maybe she wanted to hold onto the memories of the man who brought her the most important thing in her, the one person she loved more than anyone else." He inhaled deeply. "And as much as I disagreed with Valentine, I can't help but feel indebted to him. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have you."
Jace looked panicked as I started to cry harder. Not the reaction he'd been expecting, but he didn't know they weren't necessarily bad tears this time. I was just feeling overwhelmed, my emotions all over the place. Feeling all the love he still had for me even though I continued to fight him. He went to pull away, but I stopped his movements. Acting purely on instinct, I placed my hands on his shoulders and drew him closer to me.
The kiss was tentative at first, both of us suddenly unsure. We hadn't kissed since before our falling out, but we were able to fall into a familiar rhythm, almost like riding a bike. Jace was the one to test boundaries again, his hands moving from my cheeks to tangle in my hair as he deepened the kiss. I opened my mouth a little farther, allowing his tongue to explore familiar territory.
A groan came from the back of his throat and ignited a fire deep in my abdomen. I broke away from him, my face flush and skin tingling. I wasn't quite ready for those feelings yet. Jace looked back at me, his breathing heavy and his pupils dilated.
"Not that I'm complaining," he breathed, "but that was very unexpected."
I bit my bottom lip. "Sorry. It just. . . felt right."
Laughing, he shook his head and stood. "Don't apologize. I enjoyed it very much." He shot me a wink. "I think we've done enough for today. I'll go order us a pizza."
I didn't miss the way he adjusted himself as he left the room.
The weather was beautiful, so Jace and I decided to take our work outside a few days later. The back porch was bathed in plenty of sunlight and gave a beautiful view of lush green grass and a small pond. I set up an easel to paint the surrounding scenery, and Jace brought out his laptop to continue studying for his PI license. He donned a pair of blue lens glasses that made him look far too good, and I internally sighed. It really wasn't fair.
My focus was broken by my cell ringing, and I answered it after checking the I.D. I would not be picking up for any unknown numbers after Jonathan's call.
"Hey, Hodge," I greeted, expecting an update about Valentine's estate. That seemed to be all he called about lately.
Jace threw me a curious glance at Hodge's name but returned his attention to his laptop.
"Clarissa," Hodge responded. His voice was a forced kind of soothing that immediately put me on edge. "How are you doing?"
"What's wrong?" I asked. This clearly wasn't a good call, and I didn't want to waste time on pleasantries.
He sighed. "I wish I weren't the one having to tell you this."
My mind went into overdrive thinking of everything that could have possibly gone wrong. Jonathan was being released. They found Luke and he was in custody. I was being implicated somehow.
"What is it?" I demanded. Jace looked at me, concerned by the panic evident in my voice.
"Your brother was stabbed in the showers last tonight." Hodge kept his voice monotone, not showing any emotion. "One of Santiago's men got to him."
I sucked in a breath. "Stabbed?"
"I know this must be a shock and you will need time to process," Hodge said. "However, I can assure you I am getting started on a lawsuit. Negligence on the prison's side. Jonathan should have never been near other inmates, let alone a direct rival. We have a good shot at—"
"No," I said. It was turning into one of my more frequently used words.
"No?" He sounded incredulous. I doubted many people told Hodge Starkweather no. "Miss Fray, they should be held responsible for what happened."
"I said no. Drop it." By held responsible, he meant they should pay. Literally. I knew Hodge was only interested in the cut he would get if I won the lawsuit. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less about it.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jace set his computer down and stand. He was always good at sensing my distress.
"I don't think you understand," Hodge stammered. "There is a lot of money—"
"I don't give a fuck about money. Now leave it alone," I commanded, my voice shakier than I would have liked. "I appreciate all the work you've done for my family, but your services are not needed for this."
"Okay," he said, clearing his throat. "We can discuss it again later when you are thinking clearly. The other matter is the arrangements for Jonathan. As his last remaining relative, I will need to meet with you to go over the paperwork."
I swallowed, using my free hand to rub at my temples. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. We can plan on getting together some time next week. I'll be in touch." Before he could say anything else, I hung up and dropped the phone in my lap.
Jace knelt in front of me, his hands lightly gripping my thighs. "What's going on?" he asked.
I blew out a deep breath, meeting his concerned gaze and still not quite believing the words that came out of my mouth. "My brother is dead."