Hey! I am so so so sorry for the wait- i had a couple of really busy weeks at school.
Just to clear something that might not have been clear- thanks to AnnaW14- No, Clary had not been raped. She was not in the same situation as her mother but as mentioned just briefly before he tried to put her there. Tried. I see how that could be confusing and I'll try to incorporate that into the story more as well.
SHOUTOUTS: OmegaBanda14: The respect is duly noted. Those felines are quite the sneaky devil's. I 100% agree with that respect. Harpreet Judge: Does the name mean anything? I was just wondering what a Harpreet was- and i was dying with laughter from your review. Loved it. from Ravenclaw: Thank you so much- compliments mean the world and warm my heart every time I read them. AnnaW14-again, sorry for the confusion but Clary IS inexperienced in sex, and finally LOVERGIRL: Please keep up your awesome reviews. They really do encourage writing.
Keep being the a-m-a-zing people you are and give me some feedback. Or just read this. I
Clary hadn't necessarily registered what the god-like man had said before Jace pulled her out the front door and ushered her hunkered form down the hallway. It was done hastily- but not violently this time- and through the gleaming lobby Clary watched as things past in a luminescent blur. Her brain started to function only when she stepped into the silken night air- the sun having set during their training session.
She took a deep breath and felt it light up her mind. Clary embraced the searing fluidity of sweet-heavy air running through her veins, pumping her heart in feather-light resounding beats, and bulging her lungs to their fullest extent; stretching delicate bone and skin like lace. Looking down Clary saw that she was wearing only that too-big button up shirt and leggings.
Leggings Jace's hands had been almost slipping under.
Leggings he could be taking off.
Clary heaved a sigh as Jace pushed her into his vehicle, the valet parking having brought it forward to the sidewalk at his arrival. She sank gratefully into the hugging leather chair and tried to settle her roiling mind.
But how could she be settled after being touched...or...almost touched.
It was just so new. So...exhilarating.
Because, you see, Clary was a virgin.
In basically every physical way.
Though when her mother died her Father had done everything and anything to make Clary become one of his whores, she did not budge on the fact that she would never be one. She knew the fate it held. And not surprisingly her Father kept pushing and pushing. The only time she'd be touched...intimately...was the day her father tried tricking her into having sex with his friend. She'd been 12 and laying silently in her room...
There was a sudden flash of light as the door creaked open, a hush following the tell-tale sign of entry. Clary pulled the covers up to her chest as if a millimeter of cotton would shield her from an ax murderer's...well...ax.
She could still hear the echoes of his footsteps, but that night the only slightly disturbed silence had rung infinitely in her ears, only subsided by her terrified thoughts.
Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, it would leave.
She could still see his looming shadow, lurking against the floor and bouncing off the wall as he walked in.
"Clarissa," the whisper had scratched across her skin. She knew this voice. This was the man that frequented their house in nightly visits to her mother. It was like he had been as addicted to her as Clary's father was to cocaine. "Your father sent me here, now that your mother is gone. He said...that you could help me" it was a smokers voice. It was deep. It was...horrifyingly persuasive.
See, Clary loved helping people, it made her forget that no one had ever helped her. So she couldn't resist an answering whisper..."With what?"
His eyes had been black, black, black- like a demon's, and his hair was almost as white as her father's in the light. It was faintly outlined, like a halo, as if he were an angel. Clary knew he wasn't. But she couldn't stop the curiosity rooting her in spot as he leaned in, maybe he'd tell her what her mother had been doing for years? Maybe...
"Help me Clarissa. Help me..."
When his lips enclosed on hers she felt...icky. Ashamed. She was old enough to realize that this was what her mother had been doing all along. She was old enough to realize that her father was making Jocelyn, getting paid for it. She was old enough to realize he wanted her to do it too. At that moment the puzzle pieces had clicked together- and the image they made was so disgusting Clary had smashed those pieces to bits. But somehow-they'd mended back together.
Clary snorted and was pulled from her memories as Jace screeched around a corner, making some curious bystanders turn their heads.
"I thought you highly paid violent liquidators didn't like to draw attention." She swallowed back her depression at the unwanted resurfacing scene, a twist clenching her heart like it was a pulled muscle worn too much for any use whatsoever. Sarcasm was the best way to lighten her mood, but the building pressure within her chest rose like up-chuck in her throat once again. She needed the night to calm her. She was a junkie and she needed her fix. She needed to release some tension.
She needed to kill.
"Yah, well, right now I'm in a small predicament." Jace replied, eyes fixed on the road as he hazardously drifted around a lamppost-lit corner. Clary could practically hear the skid-marks being marked upon the street."And I need to arrive at my destination before midnight."
Clary narrowed her brow and glanced at the clock illuminated on the modernized dashboard. It read 11:53 pm. "But that's only 7 minutes away."
Jace cranked the steering wheel hard and Clary slammed against the window as they fishtailed through a stoplight. "Exactly," Jace whispered low. "Hold on tight."
His eyes were dark and wild, the way she'd grown to like them.
Clary was panting as she un-clenched her hand from its death grip on the door. In the darkness she could only see the pulsing lights of a party in a classy mansion that was in the middle of nowhere. Jace opened the door and beats of booming music assulted her ears. The house was situated atop a hill with a long winding driveway curling through the grass. Jace pulled to a choppy stop in front of open wrought iron gates before grabbing her by the collar of her shirt. He pulled her close to him, across the stick-shift and onto his lap, and for a second as she straddled his very capable legs and felt his muscles twitch beneath her own, her heart beat with anticipation of finishing what they started. He looked deep into her eyes and she felt the cool press of metal against the skin of her hip. Looking down Clary watched as he holstered a pistol in the waistband of her leggings. They were still just a hairsbreadth away when she whispered, "Isn't that dangerous."
He looked up through lowered lashes and just gazed silently, almost provocatively at her. She was almost certain that he was going to kiss her- like in one of those action/romances she'd loved to read. He'd lean in slowly and leave her dazed with a mind-blowing, orgasmic kiss that'd leave her just wanting more before pulling away and going to participate in some good-ole shoot em up.
But he just threw pushed her out the door before him, tugging her along the path up to the house.
The red-head swallowed another wave of disappointment.
"Why didn't you just pull into the driveway? Right up to the house?" Clary found herself almost yelling as they came closer to the entrance. "I mean that's why they're called drivewa-" Her sentence hitched as she tripped over a beer bottle rolling down the incline of the hill, fetching up against the grass behind her. Now, in an action/romance novel, the fetching young man would wrap his hands around the distressed woman and crush her to his chest. But all Jace did was pull her arm as she stumbled off the ground-cold air hitting her knee because of a gaping rip.
"Because my car will give me away." He gave her a patronizing look. "That's my getaway car. Everybody attending this party knows that."
She narrowed her eyes incredulously. "You have more than one car?" He paused to chuckle as he opened the door, a swell of music corrupting the silence that had been shrouded along with the dusk. He looked sideways at her and his next words were in a yell.
"Red, most people have more than one car."
No they don't.
Most people live in poverty, they wouldn't even own a car.
Stuck up, arrogant, cocky, self-righteous...
Jace grabbed her hand as he strolled carelessly through the crowd, pushing people aside and nudge his elbows out to create a path for them. As he spotted whom he was looking for he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at it nervously. Wow.
Sexy, kissable, a rated R kind of smile...
Clary felt her eyelids lower slightly, hooding the green.
Her eyes were focused solely on his lips until they were finally released from his pearly whites, thus releasing her from her trance. She did a double-take after seeing who, or more what was standing before her.
The man and woman were not human, but beautiful otherworldly creatures. Okay- so they were human, just inhumanly attractive. Both with the same swooped nose and perfectly rump lips, a thin coat of inky black hair layering their scalps. The girl's reached to her barely covered waist, where a split in her beat-red dress showed off a perfectly toned stomach, and a neckline revealed a busty chest with flawless skin. The man was not solemn, though it seemed so, but concentrated- as if he were on a mission. His toned body was clad in leather and jean, all black, all hugging tight muscle. He might have given Jace a run for his money had he not been glaring at her.
"Who is this?" he basically screamed in a loud, booming voice. Clary could tell it wasn't just because of the noisy party bustling around her.
Clary snickered at the narrowing of Jace's brows. "That's what I've been trying to find out." he mumbled, only loud enough for her to hear.
"What?" the man shouted over the music.
Clary intervened. "Call me Red!"
The woman's eyes widened. "Jace," she looked accusingly in his direction while keeping one on her. "You brought a prostitute with you! Is that the "guest" you were talking about when I called!" she made air quotations around the word guest with her graceful fingers."You can't just do that!"
Her mind growled venomously at the girl.
How dare she?!
Why doesn't she look in a mirror at herself, the promiscuous little...
"Even if she was pretty!" The woman finished.
Wow, that was nice.
Pretty.
...pretty...
"Nevermind that!" Jace replied as Clary's mind reared back its claws. "Where did Carlin go?! Did you get in good with him yet?!"
Clarissa had no idea what this meant, nor who Carlin was. But she sensed some true assassin work was taking place, and if she wanted to kill her Mothers Murderers-because it was all their fault her death had taken place- then she needed to learn everything about assassin-try, as Jace so eloquently put it. And that meant even the slang.
The man replied, efficiently cutting off the woman-whom had her mouth opening and was preparing to speak. "He left to the upstairs room with Maia just a few minutes ago. And Izzy got nothing with him, he was like dead meat and she was practically giving him a hand job."
The woman-Izzy she guessed- replied with a sultry defense, "I was doing nothing of the sort, but I was flirting, and Alec was right...nothing." Her nose curled in distaste and Jace put on another one of his bar-fight grins, the party's lights doing wild things to his eyes, making him seem crazed or high. Or both. With a nod and a hushed, "Let's get this bastard," Clary followed the crew as the sauntered towards what Clary could only guess was a staircase.
Or she tried to follow the crew.
Clary wasn't that short, so she should have had no trouble keeping an eye on them. In fact, she was average height by a mistake. She would have been short had she not taken one of her Fathers pills when she was younger and fallen into a coma. The time-lapse seemed to trigger a growth increase in everything, and afterwards she continued to grow at a normal pace. She'd never gone to the hospital but that was besides the point- Clary wasn't all that short. About 5'7", 5'8" on a good day. Average.
But she had ever been to a party before, or rather, a mosh pit.
Because that was what this was more like.
People crowded around her, grinding against each other and bumping Clary with parts that she would rather not be bumped with. The faces and body parts all blended together and the flashy clothes were making her head spin. Her breathing was increasingly speeding up, and she could hear as it became labored. The closeness seemed to crawl in her chest and press her ribs towards her lungs, making it hard to fully extend them. Her throat was itching with this pressured throb it seemed as if her tongue was falling backwards and not letting any air in. Her lips became chapped and so achingly dry by sucking countless breaths in. She was shocked from her paralyzed state as someone fell into her back and pushed her into a man. He turned around and stared bug-eyed towards her face. One eye twitched and his leathery skin scrunched in a disgusting sneer. He advanced a step before Clary stumbled away, feet catching on stiletto's and beer cans. In a flash of strobe lights and arms and legs he was gone. Clary stumbled aimlessly for a bit- trying to ind purchase in the frenzy around her before her shin crashed against wood. With a hiss she looked down.
It was a stair. And just above it was another step, leading to another, and another.
Clary let out a breath of relief as she used both hands and feet to make her way through the slightly slimmer crowd.
At the top of the stairs the people seemed to just...stop. No one was past the first door in the hall. Clary took this as a bad sign but moved further into the corridor. She needed to find Jace. Her heart had this little seize when she thought of the fact that he'd left her alone in the place he brought her to.
Dislike. Hate. Repulse.
That's what it is.
But the thing was, Clary felt those things everyday, and they didn't feel like this.
It was strange, this throbbing had taken residence in her hands and fingers, aching to touch...something. She moved her hands against the drywall and felt the rough surface scratch her palms as she walked even further into the dimness of the hall. But it wasn't enough. And the pressure in her chest hadn't yet faded- from downstairs, from the car, from the training room, even from the time Jace saw her goddamned legs. She wanted to forget, she wanted to pass this feeling off to someone else. She didn't want to bear it anymore. It just...it was so...constricting! She hated not being able to take a deep breath. It was like strangulation.
Clary clenched her teeth to stop the scream that wanted to leap from her lips.
She rounded a corner, the only light now coming from a naked bulb, casting deep and dark shadows along every new opening where the doors were placed.
Who needed that many rooms in a house?
Clary just walked on. She could feel a sort of thrum running through her veins, not fear but more intimidation at what could be lurking behind every knob and wooden slab. She wasn't afraid. She couldn't be. Clary looked up and found that a few meters before her...the hall just...ended.
Where is that idiot?
Where did they go?
Clary absently wondered if there was another upstairs they could have gone to and was about to turn around when a flash caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes as she gazed about, eyes peering into the yellow wash of light engulfing the hall. ...there! Again!. It was in a shadow. Clary took a step towards the darkness before a familiar golden head popped out of it.
Jace.
Clary felt her shoulders relaxed.
Don't you dare start to feel reassured by that boy!, her mind shouted at her.
He was a man...
Independence...you need to be independent.
Yes, yes she did.
She took a deep breath and went to call his name when his hand appeared, a gun entwined in his fingers, surprising her by how well he could blend his body into the shadows. It must have come from training. Clary watched as he pressed it to his lips in a gesture that simply meant 'shhhh'
She could practically hear it in her ear, his husky breathing and seductive hum. Those alluring plush lips taunted her as they pulled against the sliding metal and Clary focused her hooded eyes reluctantly there- knowing Jace was watching her reaction. The metal clashed against his golden hair and skin tones making him look all ore. She licked her own lips as his tongue darted out to wet his, and realized she had missed that. His face. She liked staring at it.
But his eyes weren't normally that wide were they? When did they get that big-
An arm came round her throat and cut off her air supply, pulling her into an equally strong chest. She choked as she heard a man's raspy voice grunt into her ear, cool steel pressing into her temple.
"And who might you be?"
Sorry, I haven't edited yet, but I'll get on it ASAP.
Wow...okay this was one of the longest chapters I have ever written. Anyways, what did you think? This was more of a filler chapter than an action one- a little more insight into Clary's feelings.
Question: Do you ever feel sorry for Clary? I mean, while writing this, I kind of felt sorry for making her heart weigh her down so much. I know how that feels and it sucks.
Anyways review, follow, favourite, read again...maybe...yah...totally? Reallyyyy...Nah...you would actually do that for me?!
You guys are great, Lovestory112.