Hello, my lovely readers! :) I'm baaack again. And to those of you who believe I abandoned my account, I WOULD NEVER. Let's just say a July where I've been all over the beautiful USA (with no wifi I might add) has allowed me ZERO time to update. Got back about a week ago and spend it catching up with friends and getting everything in order and whatnot...and school starts soon...booo...but that means...MORE UPDATES! YAY YOU GUYS (random note: I got a stuffed owl from Kansas and it's eyes are really big and it's just staring me down right now...creepy...) But anyways...enjoy this update that I typed up literally in an hour, so if it sucks...I'm sorry...if you love it...I'm not sorry. But it's time for some DRAMAAAAAA (just like friggen school will be in all of two weeks! Can you tell I'm reallyyyyy excited...not)... Just a little warning. Anyways...enjoy my lovelies :)

"Testarossa!" an impatient voice called from the other side of the heavy bathroom door. "I've grown a beard equivalent to those men from Duck Dynasty just waiting here for you!" Clary rolled her eyes and flipped off the door, knowing that he couldn't see her.

"You're a jerk, Jace," she called back, hoping the entire gas station didn't hear their sweet exchange. They were somewhere in Wyoming, and the air was bitterly cold, the trees barren. A few stray snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. Clary had never been out of the state of New York, and even with the approaching winter draining the vibrant colors of fall, she still seemed to find beauty in everything around her. She flushed the repulsive toilet with the toe of her sneaker and washed her hands, making sure to sing the alphabet twice. She did not want to catch a disease.

"Testarossaaaa!" Jace whined as she whipped open the door, catching him a little in the nose. She smirked at him.

"Karma's a biznatch," was all she said as she strode back out to Jace's car. She was thankful for the winter coat Jace had purchased for her back in Ohio as the cold bit her cheeks and her fingers. Wind whipped to loose curls around her face, and Clary desperately tried to restrain them with her pins. She slid into the passenger seat, grumbling about being a curly-haired monster.

Jace's seatbelt clicked into its catch as he whispered, "But you're my curly-haired monster." He dusted a light kiss across her atrocious head and began to drive away. Clary's heart fluttered and her fingers automatically reached up to the hearts hanging on her neck. "I think I'll call you Red Fury," Jace mused to the windshield, earning a hard slap on the arm. "Definitely Red Fury."

They'd been on the road for almost two weeks, stopping at random, and sometimes very sketchy, tourist locations, slowly meandering westward. To the outside world, they appeared as nothing more than a young couple out for an afternoon. Little did anyone know that they were both running from the pasts, sprinting headlong into their unknown future as they tried to forget the wrong that had been done to them.

Clary hadn't really talked to her family. She'd ignored calls from Jocelyn and Luke. Sebastian hadn't bothered to call his sister, and Clary knew he was just as angry as she was, though she couldn't bring herself to hit the call button every time she dialed his number. Simon had called, and Clary had answered, but they only chatted for a few minutes, mostly so Simon knew that Clary was alive and well. Even though their hazardous relationship hadn't worked out, Clary and Simon still loved each other, though it was definitely the platonic type. Isabelle had called and yelled at her and Jace both: at Clary for running away and not telling her and at Jace for seducing her friend into a road trip. This gave the pair a much needed laugh as Isabelle continued to rant at them both. Other than that, she'd dropped all contact with everyone. Not that she had many friends.

Clary was lulled into a sense of calm as snow flew around them, the white specks landing and melting instantly against the ground. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Jace. Slowly he'd explained his entire childhood to her, each story worsening with the next. He'd been beat, cut, trained to exhaustion, nearly starved to death, kicked outside in the dead of winter. He'd never known his father, witnessed his own mother's murder, and then been raised by the killer himself. Clary shivered at the images in her mind. She'd listened with a quiet caution, her expression guarded with each word he said. She'd known at the slightest sight of shock, Jace would close off completely to her. She'd held his hand as he refused to cry, stared in awe at the steadiness of his honey-colored eyes. They weren't blazing with hatred. They weren't hard with denial or soft with sadness. They were simply calm, shining with a solid acceptance. Acceptance of his brutal past, of the man who raised him, of where his life was headed. And Clary envied him for it. Why could she not call up her mom and say, "Mother, I forgive you."? Why did she cry out in the night to the brother she never knew instead of to the brother she had. Why couldn't she just accept her life as it was and move on? Because I'm not strong enough. That's why, she thought as her green eyes watched the blurred brown outside the window. She couldn't just let it go because she was afraid. Afraid of the man she didn't remember, the one she didn't know. She was afraid of him, afraid that he would come after her. Afraid of the world around her. She was just afraid.

"Jace," she said, reaching over and grabbing his arm with a grip so tight her knuckles turned white. She saw his golden irises melt in concern as her lip quivered. In the rearview mirror, she could see her skin had become pasty white, her eyes darting around in fear. "Can we…just…stop for the night?" She received a quizzical look at the a slow nod from the driver, as he hit the nearest exit and sped to the nearest motel. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon, but Clary just needed to stop. She needed to sort her life out now, or she would never be able to.

She snatched her purse and duffle bag from the backseat as Jace parked and went to book a room. She stumbled almost drunkenly after him, eyes scanning the area for any threat. Jace returned to her side with a key, ushering her to the room that would be theirs for the next twenty-four hours. He helped her inside and let her sink onto the bed, her eyes staring mindlessly into the distance as he unlaced her sneakers and tugged them off. She was waiting for him to snap at her, to demand that she tell him everything, but like always, Jace surprised her by helping her stretch out across the mattress and sliding next to her, clasping her petite hands in one of his and drawing it to his lips. "Do you want to talk about it, baby?" he asked her through golden eyelashes, his gaze so warm and compassionate that Clary felt compelled to crash her lips to his and forget everything that was troubling her.

She didn't though, of course. She tugged one hand from his grip and threw her arm over her eyes. Jace, of all people, would not judge her for her father. He would be the one person who would understand. The one that might help her understand, guide her through. She drew in a deep breath, blinking back her fears as she plunged into the past she barely knew about, slowly articulating every word, concentrating as they rolled off her tongue in order to keep her tears at bay.

She talked about how her entire childhood had been completely fabricated, a lie. She expressed the anger she felt inside. She kept her eyes off Jace during her speech, not wanting to knew what he was thinking as she told him that her father left her for dead. Finally, as her voice drifted off to silence, she peered up through her eyelashes at Jace, whose expression was completely unreadable. "I'm scared, Jace," she admitted in a squeaky voice, chewing her lower lip. "I'm scared that he'll come back for me, for my mom, for Seb. And there's going to be absolutely nothing I can do to stop him." She was shivering, and Jace's arms snaked around her, holding her firmly to his chest, burying his face into auburn curls.

"He won't be able to touch you, Testarossa," he growled into her hair. "I won't let him touch a hair on your head." His tone was full of confidence and finality. Clary knew he wasn't going to back down from a fight. She nuzzled her face into his chest and sighed, the crippling fear draining from her veins, being replaced with something that felt a lot like hope.

She suddenly was overrun with the extreme urge to kiss him, and this time she yielded to it, giving in and letting her desire take control. She lifted herself off Jace and before he could ask her what was wrong, her mouth descended on his, swallowing his question completely. His hands settled on her hips as she straddled his waist, twining her fingers into his locks. She was heated, panting heavily as Jace flipped them over. Now hovering above her, he broke their kiss, peppering her face with warm pecks, his lips brushing lightly along her jawbone, teasing her. "Jace…" Clary breathed out huskily, moving her fingers to the hemline of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

She'd expected him to freeze up, the way he always did, self-conscious of the scars even though Clary had seen them numerous times. But he didn't, he gently pushed her hands aside and stripped it of quickly and smoothly before returning his lips to hers. This was where they usually stopped, kissing wildly as Clary's fingers retraced the memorized pattern of Jace's skin, as Jace's own fingers remained buried into the mattress. But tonight, this didn't satisfy Clary. She wanted more, so much more that it hurt. She burned with need and lust and her heart was driven by love. She grabbed either side of her shirt and pulled, popping the buttons open and revealing the pink lace bra beneath. Jace's eyes flew open at the sound of the buttons, and his mouth froze on hers. She knew Jace had been much farther than this. All the way, in fact, and though it didn't bother her that she wouldn't be his first, it bothered her that right now, he was hesitating. Did he not want her as much as she wanted him? Dammit, she wasn't even undressed yet! She pressed herself closer to the boy, but he remained as still as stone, hands fisting the bedspread on either side of her thigh.

"Jace," Clary murmured feverishly, trying to twist herself closer to the statuesque boy. He didn't respond, barely even breathed as she attempted to jumpstart him. It didn't work. Finally, she collapsed dejectedly back onto the bed, refastening the buttons on her shirt. Jace's eyes were locked on hers, though he refused to move an inch. "I should have known," she whispered wriggling herself from beneath Jace so she rested a foot to the left of him, teetering on the edge of the bed to put as much space as possible between them.

The bedsprings groaned and the mattress bounced as Jace moved, snuggling up closely to Clary's back. "Clary…"

"Save it, Jace!" she snapped, wrenching herself from his grasp. "I should have never told you! Now you pity me! You think I'm this…this…broken little girl that needs to be coddled. Well, guess what, Jace! I'm a legal adult! I can think for myself! I know what I want!" She was screaming, her face red with embarrassment and anger.

"Clary, I wasn't trying to—"

"What you were trying to do, Jace, is decide what's best for me, and you know what, I'm sick of it! My mother hid my entire life from me because it was 'what was best for me,'" she inserted air quotes around that, her breath releasing in angry puffs.

"No, Clary, I wasn't trying to tell you what's best for you. I want to just as much as you do." As if to solidify his point, he gestured toward the rather obvious lump in his jeans. "I just, really don't know if the timing is right. I mean, do you really want your first time to be on a hotel mattress in the middle of Wyoming?" He reached up and brushed a curl from her face, tucking it lovingly behind her ear.

She sighed heavily. As much as she hated it, he was right. She collapsed once again into his arms as he placed a kiss on her cheek. "Can we at least kiss some more?" Before she even finished the question, Jace was once again floating above her, lips crashing down on hers.

X.O.X.O.X

Clary woke to her phone chiming. She saw her mother's name on the screen and checked the boy beside her, who was still fast asleep and snoring slightly. She slipped out from underneath his arm and stepped over to the window, peeking through the blinds and seeing a snowstorm raging outside. Great, she thought as she flipped open her phone. "Listen, Mom," she started before even saying hello. "I just want to say that I forgive you for everything—"

"Silly, naïve, Clarissa," a male voice sneered from the other end. Clary's blood immediately froze as her grip tightened around the device in her hand. "You'd forgive your mother for not telling you about me? For never mentioning that you had a brother? For letting you believe Luke was your father?" the man scoffed, laughing menacingly after his rant.

"I have no idea what you are talking—"

"Oh, save it, my little Clarissa." Clary silenced herself, stealing another look at the boy slumbering shirtless in bed, at the scars that decorated his back, at the black tattoos that intermingled with the red. "I've been watching you grow up. I've been biding my time in the shadows, waiting for just the right moment to pounce."

Clary's breath hitched in her throat. Was he here right now? Outside the window? She didn't dare peep through the blinds again. "That time is upon us, Clarissa. And now, you must choose whether to side with me, or watch those you love die." There was a scream in the background and the muffled noise of the man telling the person to shut up, or he'd cut them again. Clary suppressed a scream.

"I would never side with you, Valentine," she spat, growling his name like a cuss word.

"Ah, ah, ah," he sing-songed, chuckling at some inside joke he had with himself. "You think I'd make this proposition without a little…shall we say…insurance, hmmm? Well, then clearly, my daughter, you underestimate me." With that, Clary heard another shout, one that was definitely feminine. She gasped.

"Don't do it, Clary!" she heard her mother cry, and there was a cracking noise as Valentine must have slapped her. Clary sputtered tears beginning to fall.

"Oh, yes, Clary, that is right. I have your mother. And she is not dead…yet. But you have my word that if you don't join me in four days, I will murder her slowly. And enjoy it." The phone clicked and the line went dead. It slipped from between her fingers as she fell to her knees, eyes wide and unblinking with shock.

"Mmmm, Testarossa?" Jace murmured, searching for her in the bed, awakening. He shot straight up when she wasn't there, and his eyes fell on her form huddled by the window. "Testarossa?" he inquired, standing up from the bed, face set in a look of worry. She shifted to look up at him.

"I think…" she started, licking her dry lips. "I think I just got a call from my father."

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Lay it on me! And if you like sparkly unicorns...let's be best friends :)

All My Love (and cupcakes), Lovelies

~BallinBlonde21