Clary didn't know what was worse. The fact that she had to sit awkwardly in one of Marvell's conference rooms, sleep-deprived and moody, or the fact that their current client was completely tuning out her words and instead eyeballing Jace as if she wanted to sear of his clothing just by staring at him. Rattling off information that she practically recited by now, she wondered how Jace would react if he knew that last night, another guy had practically molested and groped her butt.
Not that it was her fault, of course. She'd never think of doing that on purpose – although she reminded herself that she wasn't technically tied to Jace – but it still felt wrong with him in the picture. Isabelle had dragged her out to the bar on their weekly Girls' Night Out, and, though she protested, had been forced into a train of grinding people…and it just happened that the guy behind her decided to cope for a feel.
The meaty hands felt rather disgusting as they squeezed her ass, and, choking on her own spit in surprise, Clary had twisted around to tell the man to scat when he started to freak against her. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew.
He wasn't even hot, or even good looking.
And then, this morning she'd had to wake up at 6 to meet up secretly with a client. Who knew people worked that early?
Irritated, she'd snapped at the woman, who had in turn bitched out Clary and now she was in big trouble with Jocelyn. And on top of everything, this new client was eye-screwing Jace. Clary was practically spitting words at the client, named Mikaela.
Jace sent her a confused look. He was oblivious to Mikaela's eye hyptonization.
"Just a second, Mikaela," he smiled apologetically, as if sorry for her actions. Clary glared. "We'll be right back."
He trapped her out in the hall. "You okay?"
She crossed her arms, glaring. "You didn't have to do that."
"You had the bitch,Immakillyoulook on. I had to stop it before any bloodshed occurred."
"Haha."
He frowned, and reached out to brush away some hair falling into her eyes, and Clary felt her heart melt a little. "For reals Clary, is something wrong? Anything you want to tell me?"
Just that a guy who wasn't you violated me last night when you weren't there, that I'm secretly meeting up with clients behind your back, that I yelled at a client this morning, and that I am in deep shit with my boss's boss.
"No," she said instead. "Just a bad day, that's all."
Jace's face softened, and it made him look younger and more vulnerable. "I'm sorry to hear that." He played with his shirt collar for a second. "Look, that woman isn't budging at all, and she's been giving me thelook. Is it okay if I use just a little seduction on – now I know we've made up the rules," he said hastily as her glare returned, "and I intend to follow it strictly, but I think that I should use some of the Charm. I promise I won't touch her or anything of the kind."
Clary didn't believe what she was hearing. "So this was what you called me out for? To tell her you want to screw this woman with my permission first?"
Jace pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut in exasperation. It made her even angrier. "No. I just want to loosen her up a bit, that's all. I'm sorry if I put it in the wrong phrasing."
"You do that, Jace. You do just that."
He heard the steel in her voice, and the sarcasm. "I won't touch her. At all."
He held his hands out, palms up. "I promise."
A test of his trustworthiness. "Fine," she agreed reluctantly, unexplainable anger and irritation building up inside of her. She wanted nothing more than to run to the nearest wall and punch a hole through it.
They went in, calmly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jace wink at Mikaela. Her hands fisted in her skirt.
"Sorry for the wait," he purred, his voice velvet, and pulled out the chair next to Mikaela, sitting very, very close. Not good.
Clary sat in her old seat, on the other side. She finished her part of the presentation in a stiff voice, and sat back, watching Jace work his "charm."
It would have been very charming indeed, if it was directed at her. Mikaela was flushed within seconds, and as Jace cracked jokes, she laughed. His eyes flicked over to Clary a few times, but she herself never laughed, never cracked a smile. She stared back stonily, and he glanced away, guilt flashing quickly through the gold before it disappeared.
A little while later, she said the first word since she'd fallen silent fifteen minutes earlier. Both of them jumped, as if they'd forgotten she was even there. Even Jace. He'd stopped glancing at her after the first few times.
Her fists tightened, and she swallowed hard. Maybe they'd be a good match too. Mikaela wasn't all too ugly, with brown, highlighted hair and a tall, thin body.
"Excuse me while I use the bathroom."
She got up stiffly, and stalked to the door. As her hand touched the doorknob, Mikaela's voice floated to her. "There's a restroom two hallways down to the right."
She already knew where it was. "Thanks," she said tightly, and all but slammed the door behind her.
Inside the bathroom, she made a quick check to make sure the bathroom was empty, and finding it was, promptly kicked the wall with all her might.
Then she pulled down her pants, and groaned.
No wonder why she was in a bad mood.
Her monthly visitor had arrived, and, bringing along with it, a bad case of PMS.
By the time Clary arrived back in the conference room, she had composed herself, and no longer felt like her head was going to blow off. She opened the door, and balked.
She'd arrived just in time to see Mikaela slide onto Jace's lap, hook one finger in the collar of his shirt, and reel him in. And kiss him full on the mouth.
The floor threatened to drop away. Her stomach turned into water, and she nearly threw up. How could he? He had promised. Test not only failed, but flunked. In the dim background, she heard the door slam, and Jace and Mikaela jumped apart. But she was already moving. Her body was alien – he was alien – to her as her hand grabbed her bag off the table and she stumbled blindly toward the door.
The frantic slamming of a laptop and the rustle of shoving papers told her that Jace was trying to catch up to her. She ran out, pushing past startled employees into a closing elevator, just in time to see a glimpse of Jace's shocked and pained face disappear through the closing crack of the doors. His mouth opened, but she didn't hear anything as the elevator began moving down.
Jace.Her Jace.
Her throat dried, and she tried to soothe it by swallowing past the painful burning. Her eyes stung, and she rubbed them, as if tired with a yawn. The elevator wasn't empty; she didn't want to cry in front of strangers. Luckily, they reached ground level soon enough. Clary was the first one out.
She headed to the parking lot, then realized, with a painful squeeze of her heart, that it wasn't her car they'd come in. She didn't have the keys.
There was a loud pounding in the area to her right, the stairs, and the sound of fluent cursing. Jace's voice.
Clary ran.
Vision blurring with tears, she burst out onto the busy sidewalk, bustling with people heading home from work. The sky was already a darkening purplish color.
She didn't know where she was running. Anywhere. Anywhere far from Marvell and SAI and MC. And Jace.
The grunts from disgruntled passersby filled the air. First Street flashed by, followed by Second, Third. She swerved right on Fourth, found that there were too many people, and turned onto the narrow road between two tall buildings, running in the shadows. Even if Jace was looking for her, he'd never find her. It was too dark.
Her feet moved robotically, and it was a miracle she didn't crash into anything. Her eyes were streaming with tears, her vision still blurry. Slowly, the tears dried up, leaving her angry, empty, and hopeless. She stumbled along the road, which had turned a bit rocky and was more of an alleyway than anything, head low, shoulders slumped.
That was when a loud clang startled her. A trashcan lid bounced to the ground and landed a few feet away from her feet. Clary looked up.
From the shadows stepped a bulky man, more than twice her height and size. His dark hair was a bedraggled mess, his chin unshaven, his eyes hard and glinting. Even in the darkness of sundown, the glint of the gun was unmistakable.
Clary inhaled sharply, backing up against the brick wall of the building behind her.
She had walked into one of the ghetto parts of New York City. And now, she was trapped in a dark alley with a murderer. Her heart pounded, her fingers shook. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers.
"Stay where you are." The man took another huge step forward, the gun still pointed at her. He was freaking hairy. His eyes traveled slowly over her body, his gaze making Clary disgusted and uneasy.
Another thought forced its way into her mind: rape.
He licked his lips.
She opened her mouth to scream bloody murder –
"Do, and I'll shoot." He came closer and pressed the gun into her throat. Clary gulped. He smiled, but it was a smile with nothing inviting and all trouble. She gasped in surprise when his free hand came down to cup one of her breasts.
No one but Jace had touched her like that in years.
His nails dug in, and her face contorted in pain. She bit down on her lips, hard enough to draw blood. The man, making sure is intent was clear, tucked his gun in his pocket, and shoved his other land down her pants. Tears stung in her eyes and one teardrop managed to squeeze out of her eyes and down her cheek.
It surprised her that she still had tears after her huge meltdown earlier.
The man's eyes were appraising as they glanced down at her breasts from above. She'd remind herself not to where the revealing business suit next time. If she managed to live.
He bent down and licked the tear from her cheek, following the wet trail all the way up. It was disgusting. His tongue was rough and his breath was foul with marijuana. His saliva stayed on her cheek after he pulled away, bending his head down towards her chest.
Her fists clenched as she prepared for the impact of his mouth and teeth.
Her thighs were clenched closed, but his hand was so big he easily forced them apart, about to slip a finger into her.
"Get away from my girlfriend."
Clary's eyes popped open and she saw Jace, looking murderous, at the head of the alley. His hair was a halo of gold, contrasting sharply with his black shirt and tie he'd worn earlier. Except for his hair and eyes, he was almost part of the shadows. Her captivator froze and slowly turned around.
Girlfriend.
He doesn't mean it. He only said it to scare the guy off. It doesn't mean a thing.
He kissed Mikaela.
Those thoughts flashed through her mind, but loudest was the urge to warn Jace to be careful.
The man didn't take his hands off Clary. "She didn't look taken when she came here," he sneered, purposely taunting Jace by squeezing Clary's breasts. She let out a small squeal of pain. "Besides, I'm looking for a good lay tonight, and I've just struck it rich."
"The hell you will!"
Jace growled, and even in this state, Clary couldn't help but admire how incredibly sexy he was. In a blur of blue and black, he rushed forward, knocking the man off her.
The murderer reached for his pocket. Clary screamed.
"He has a gun!"
As if he hadn't heard her, Jace delivered a punch to the man's face, and taking advantage of his temporary shock, jumped on him, both of them colliding to the ground with Jace on top. He delivered punch after punch, smashing his fists into the man's face nonstop until rivers of blood slid off the guy's face, and still he didn't stop. It was as if he was in a blind rage.
It scared Clary to see Jace like that.
"Stop, Jace. Please stop," she whispered.
He stopped, surprising her, and stared up at her almost as if he didn't see her. His stare was blank as he turned back to the man and jumped off him. He dusted off his shirt, looked at the groaning man on the ground, and kicked the guy's balls hard.
"Don't – touch – my – girl."
His gaze was one of cold satisfaction.
It wasn't the Jace she knew. And it scared her to think of what he was going to do to her.
But he didn't even acknowledge her presence, instead turning robotically and walking down the alleyway as if nothing had happened. Slowly, the outline of a car became clear as her eyes adjusted and she watched as Jace got to one side of it.
He opened the car door, then paused, calling over his shoulder in an icy monotone, "Do me a favor. Get in the car and don't cause any trouble."
She took one last, terrified glance at the bloody mess, and fled to the car. She scampered in, and Jace slammed his car door shut. His stare was fixed stonily ahead, his jaw hard with anger, his lips thinned. Clary turned to the window, a blur of tears washing over her vision again, but none threatened to drop out.
Being this close to Jace hurt.
The ride home was tense and silent. Jace's hands clutched the steering wheel tightly, and Clary curled into a ball, as far away from him as possible.
Mygirl.
He had called her his, with such a fierce amount of protectiveness that made her heart skip a beat. He had claimed her as his. As if she was the most beautiful, most wanted girl in the world. As if he wanted nothing else in the world.
Mygirlmygirlmygirl, her head chanted.
But she couldn't bring herself to trust it. To trust him.
He had been in the moment. He hadn't been thinking. He couldn't have actually meant it. He couldn't be trusted.
And of course, she thought, replaying the last words he'd snapped at her, those words had been filled with so much contempt and malice and disgust.
"We're here," Jace said, cutting the silence, and along with it, her heart. His voice was bitter.
Justletmebe, Clary begged silently. Don'tsayanythingelse.
"What were you even thinking Clary? No, forget it. Were you even thinking at all? Clary," he put his hand on her shoulder to turn her around. She jumped as if his hand had burned her.
"Don't touch me!"
Alarmed, he pulled his hand off, as if just realizing how violated she must have felt after almost getting raped. She glared at him, angry and hurt at his words. He stared at her for a minute. "Clary, are you – crying?"
"Yes, for God's sake," she snarled. "And don't laugh, don't even say anything. I don't need your spiteful comments right now."
He looked a bit taken back. "Why would I laugh at you? You know I wouldn't do somethi – "
"No, I don't! I don't know you anymore, I don't know if I can trust you anymore – not since you kissed Mikaela after you promised not to!"
He ran a hand through his hair, and Clary thought she saw a flash of annoyance. "I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. It wasn't what you thought Clary. I didn't do anything, I promise."
"I don't need your promises anymore." She made her voice as cold and hard as possible. Here he was, lying to her again, straight to her face, without even an apology. "I guess it doesn't hurt anymore to tell you that I was with another guy last night."
Jace looked as if he didn't believe her. "Look, if you're just saying this because –"
She looked him straight in the eye. God damn him and his beautiful eyes. "I'm telling you this because I don't give a fuck about you anymore. I was afraid before it'd hurt your feelings if you found out, but you just got so boring. If you don't believe me, you can ask Isabelle."
His mouth was slightly open, his eyes blazing. "God damn you, Clary. I saved your ass and this is how you decide to thank me?"
Her hand tightened on the door handle. "I don't need you to protect me. Maybe I wanted him."
He gave a short bark of laughter. "Wantedhim? Yeah, just like how I want you, the girl who jacked up my life, my work office, my car."
"Car? Youweretheonewhoslammedintome!"
Jace glared at her. "You know what? We're over."
Clary swung out of the car. "Over? We can't be over if there was nothing to begin with in the first place!" She slammed the car door shut in his face. They glared at each other for a minute longer, and then Jace gunned the gas. Alec's old car zoomed away, leaving a trail of gas in its wake.
She stood there for a while longer, alone, hand still clutching onto her bag, the events of the day too rushed and shocking to comprehend.
Only one thing rang clear.
She and Jace were over.
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