Chapter 37: Kaboom. Shit's getting real. Mostly Clary. Girl's in trouble…
POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: violence, non-con and drug use (Rated M).
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
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Previously: "Clary looked over at the door to the next room and frowned. It looked familiar. Running, darkness, terror… He's going to find me. Seeing stars. A black boot heel smashing a phone. Running."
Clary pulled her hair up into a bun on top of her head and secured it with a scrunchy. It was still damp from her shower. She pulled on a cream colored sherpa pullover and a pair of black leggings, with slouchy cream fuzzy socks. All about comfort today. Jonathan asked her to meet him at his room in one hour for a late lunch. He was practicing weapons and melee fighting with the security team. She closed her eyes and pictured her gorgeous boyfriend with no shirt, wrestling meatheads into submission on a mat and hummed. So much testosterone at Morgenstern Manor. I can't wait for Amatis to come back.
She smiled, remembering how sweet Jonathan had been last night on their dinner date. As requested, she had worn one of the many dresses he had purchased for her. It was a long sleeved, high neck gray and black lace bodycon dress. It was one of the more conservatively cut dresses in her closet, as she had already indicated to Jonathan that she wanted the night to be a lot more tame. They had dined in a parlor, once used as a music room. There was a man playing piano, as they ate varying Italian dishes and drank wine. Clary had opted to have only one glass, as she still felt a bit hungover. They chatted, flirted, danced, and kissed throughout the night. It had really been quite romantic. He had walked her back to her room, like a perfect gentleman. At the door they kissed for a few minutes. She could tell he wanted to come in and spend more time together. But, she told him goodnight, promising to meet him at the gym in the morning. It had been a perfect date, but she had been physically tired and still sore, from their night of hyper-sex. Perhaps we can take things further tonight.
Their morning workout had been light, but good. Jonathan wanted to conserve his energy "for combat" with the security team. They had both run a few miles and then Jonathan helped her fine-tune a few of her self-defense moves. Then they had a light breakfast and Jonathan had given her a berry smoothie to take back to her room. She was still pretty full from breakfast when she got back, so put it in her refrigerator for after her shower. She walked over to her house phone and picked it up. An operator answered. "Yes, Miss Fairchild, may I help you?" Clary rolled her eyes. She had asked the staff to please call her Clary and reminded them ad nauseam that her last name was Fray, but to no avail. "Yes, good morning. I was wondering if I am able to make any outgoing calls yet? Or are the phones still down?" The operator informed her that the phones were still down for out and incoming calls and would probably stay that way for days. God I miss New York. Clary thanked her and decided to ask Jonathan at lunch if she could use his phone to text or call Izzy and Simon. She looked out the window. The snowstorm still raged outside. It had stopped overnight, but started up again. Jonathan told her at breakfast that they had accumulated nearly eight feet of snow. Winters in Idris suck.
Clary got her smoothie from the fridge and walked over to her vanity table and sat down to put on a bit of makeup. Downing her drink, she swiped some mascara on her lashes, covered her fading jaw bruises with makeup, then applied clear lip gloss. Jonathan had told Clary that the smoothie was strawberry banana with spinach and B-complex supplements. It was good, but definitely had an aftertaste. Probably the vitamins. She stood up to organize her table when she noticed something sticking out of the side of her wristlet. She remembered laying it on the table when she was looking for her phone. It looked like a business card.
Clary pulled it out and looked at it and frowned. Special Agent William Herondale, Secret Intelligence Service, United Kingdom. She turned the card over, remembering meeting Will at Edom. "This is my private number, please use it if you need help. I will be in touch soon. Do not share with anyone. Do not trust anyone." Shaking, Clary quickly slipped the card into her pocket. She remembered dancing with him, taking a selfie, then he gave her the card. "Clary, darling. Listen to me carefully. Take this and hide it. I'm a friend of Amatis… I'm afraid I have to leave now. Please call me if you need me. I will see you again." Herondale. He resembled Jace…if he had dark hair. She had thought he looked like a cop. Jace has family in London. Why did he give me that card?
Clary felt like there was something missing… that she couldn't remember. Think, Fray. He's a friend of Amatis. Amatis. She texted me. Clary covered her mouth with her hands and nearly screamed, as memories started to flood her brain. Waking up in Jonathan's bed. Her phone buzzed with a text from her aunt. "You need to leave the manor…don't trust anyone…call Will…" Amatis wanted her to leave the manor and not trust anyone here. Why? Clary's eyes fell on her jewelry tray on the vanity. Her emerald earrings glittered in the lights, as if signaling a secret code to her. Stalker box. JCM… the box under Jonathan's bed, where her earring fell. Her old phone… her mother's voicemail… He had been at her house– the fire. I sent it to Jace. Finding the bottle of liquid drug. Running from Jonathan. Terror.
Clary jumped back, knocking her easel, sketch book, and paints onto the floor. She ran to her wardrobe and slipped on her running shoes. I have to escape. She remembered hiding from Jonathan in the room down the hall. Jace. She had called Jace. "...he's going to find me and then– he's going to–" He had found her and attacked her, tied her hands. Jonathan had twisted everything, trying to convince me it was some sex game. Sick fuck.
"You're not going anywhere, Clarissa. You are mine." He had forced the liquid in her mouth and menaced her. "Swallow it, Clarissa." He drugged me and fucking lied about it. About everything. He drugged me. I couldn't say no. He raped me. How could I have forgotten all of that?
Clary trembled and took a deep breath. She put her hand in her pocket, closing it around the card. I need to call Will… and Jace. He must be so worried. I need to get out of here. How? Fucking blizzard. Shit. I have to get a phone. "Don't trust anyone…" Clary remembered her old phone in Jonathan's box, under his bed. She could get it and bring it to her room to call Will and Jace. She would have to play it cool and fake it with Jonathan. Let him kiss you and whatnot. He can't keep his hands off of me. He had read her way too easily before. Yeah, because I was fucking terrified of him. Clary took her hair down and rubbed her scalp, tears filling her eyes. She felt used and betrayed. I really cared for him. Felt bad for him, for mom leaving him… he may have fucking killed her, which led to my dad's death. God. He was inside of me. She turned to go back into her room when she felt a familiar wave of lightheadedness. Shit. The smoothie. Clary went to her table and picked up the cup. She had nearly finished it. She went to her kitchen and poured it in the sink. She frowned and reached in the sink to find some sort of crushed pill fragments. Her heart pounded and she shoved her fist against her mouth. "I bet that is not a fucking B vitamin. Shit! What the fuck did he give me?" She drank a full glass of water and tried to make herself throwup, but couldn't manage it. She was starting to feel a little tired and detached. Fucking pathetic psycho. Has to drug women to keep them… Get the phone, Clary. Focus.
Clary took a deep breath, knocked on Jonathan's door and opened it, hearing his shower running in the bathroom. Right on schedule. She was supposed to meet him here in about 15 minutes. She quickly looked around, then rushed to look under his bed. Finding the box, she pulled it out and opened it, taking her phone. Thank god. She was shoving it back under his bed when the shower shut off. She quickly slipped the phone into her pocket and ran out of his room and back to hers. Running into her wardrobe she closed the door and went to the back, pulled out the card and dialed Will Herondale.
A man with a British accent answered on the first ring. "Herondale. Who is this?" Clary gasped and started to talk quietly into the phone, her voice shaking. "Will, this is Clary Fray. We met at Edom. I– my Aunt told me to call you. I have your card. I-I need help… to escape Morgenstern Manor. Please." Clary could hear a disturbance on the other end of the call and frowned as a beautiful, familiar voice spoke to her. "Clary! It's Jace. Thank god, baby– I've been out of my mind." Clary started to cry. "Jace. Oh my god. How– I'm so glad to hear your voice. Listen, I don't have much time. Don't call this phone back. I don't want anyone to find it. I'm going to hide it so I can call you back. Jonathan is fucking crazy. He drugged me and– had sex…r-raped me… I couldn't stop it…couldn't say no, Jace." She heard Jace gasp and curse. "He drugged my breakfast smoothie…I'm feeling a little weak. He thinks I belong to him. He's lied about everything. He has a fucking stalker box with a bunch of pictures of me and underwear…stuff from my parent's house. I think he killed them, Jace. Oh god…"
She covered her mouth to stifle her sobs as Jace spoke soothingly to her. "Baby, listen. We are coming for you, okay. The snow is causing us problems, but we are trying to figure out how to get to you as soon as possible. I'm sorry to say this, but don't do anything to set Jonathan off, okay? Play along as much as you can. I don't want him to hurt you. I love you so much, baby. Trust that. I will come for you." Clary's head snapped up when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. She whispered into the phone. "I have to go. I love you, Jace Herondale." Clary turned off the phone and dropped it and the card into a boot at the back of her closet. She walked to the front of the wardrobe, opened the door and pulled a bunch of lingerie out of a drawer, pretending to try it on. She quickly whipped her top off. Play him. Distract. Be cool, Fray.
Jonathan opened Clary's door and peeked in. He didn't see her immediately and frowned. She was late to meet him at his room, which was unusual. He wondered if her smoothie perhaps had been too strong. It was only supposed to relax her, make her more pliant. Father had given Jocelyn a similar concoction when he was retraining her before she left him. It kept her in his bed. His ears perked up when he heard a sweet melodic sound in the wardrobe. He turned the corner and looked in the wardrobe and raised his brows appreciatively. His beautiful girlfriend was in a white lace bra and bending down to pick up a pile of lingerie. Her curls brushed the floor then she swiped them over her shoulder as she stood up. She sang a miscellaneous song, her hips swaying as she put the pile back in the drawer. Jonathan's dick got instantly hard. I wonder if she'd let me peel those leggings down and bend her over?
He whistled low and Clary jumped and squealed, turning around to face him. "Jonathan! Oh my god, you startled me. How long have you been there?" She quickly bent down and picked up her top, slipping it over her head. He walked into the wardrobe and scooped her up into his arms, kissing her hard on the mouth. Turning, he slung her over his shoulder and walked to her bed. "You're late for our lunch date, kitten. But, I really like your excuse. If you prefer, we could stay here and you could try on all the lingerie you want for me. He ran his hand up the back of her thigh and squeezed her ass. Clarissa laughed and wiggled around. "Jonathan, put me down! I do want lunch. Quit being such a hornball."
He flopped her down on the bed and climbed on top of her, gently pinning her hands on either side of her head. She swallowed and stared back at him, her emerald eyes wide, then she smiled shyly. She seems nervous. He slowly pressed his lips to hers and pushed his tongue in her mouth. It took a second but she started kissing him back, closing her eyes. He slid his hands down her sides then up under her baggy top. Her skin is like silk. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra, then cupped her breasts in his hand, kneading them. She gasped and ran her hands through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails and continued to kiss him. Jonathan's arousal stirred again and he pressed his hardness between her legs, rolling his hips into her. He lifted his head and growled into her mouth. "Clarissa. I want you." Clary stiffened and put her hands on his chest. "Jon, darling. I'm still pretty sore from two nights ago. Could we wait another night? I mean we could still kiss and stuff. I just don't think my little uh– can handle your enormous… endowment tonight." Clarissa cleared her throat and blushed.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows at her in amusement. "Enormous endowment, Clarissa? You are absolutely adorable. Okay, love. We can take it easy tonight… 'Just kissing and stuff'. Perhaps I'll run you another lavender oil bath, sweetness. How does that sound?" He straddled her waist and pushed her top up to her neck and pulled it off, followed by her bra, leaving her topless. He stared hungrily at her breasts. Fuck. They're so perfectly round. Clarissa laid her arms on the bed, stretched out from her body and smiled nervously up at him. "That sounds lovely, Jonathan. I'm sorry to disappoint you." She sighed.
"Nonsense, no apologies, love. We shall have many nights together…" Jonathan laid his hands flat on her stomach and slowly pushed them up, encompassing her breasts in his hands, squeezing them together. God damn. She's beautiful. I can't wait to have her again. He flicked his eyes to the large purple mark he had left on her neck. Mine. He leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts, sucking her pink peaks up into his mouth and licking all around her nipples. Clary arched her back and moaned and he felt her squeeze her thighs together. He spent a few more minutes kissing her neck and breasts as she rubbed his back and gently pulled his hair. His cock twitched painfully in his jeans. God. I'm going to cum in my pants if I don't have her soon. He pulled up from her and rolled over to the house phone on her nightstand. Picking up the receiver, he dialed. "No. It's Jonathan. Have Cook send our lunch up to Miss Fairchild's room with some champagne. Thank you."
Jonathan rolled off the bed and pulled his black sweatshirt over his head and looked down at his little lover. Clary sat up on her bed with a pillow pulled across her chest, blushing. She sure is shy today. Perhaps I hurt her more than she is letting on, with my "enormous endowment". Unless– she is having more memories. "I'm going to go start our bath, Clarissa. Shall we?" He leaned over her on the bed and pulled the pillow away from her, noting the deep blush on her chest and breasts. He took her hands and pulled her up to stand against him, relishing the way her nipples rubbed against his bare stomach. She shivered. "Jon– uh… the bath?" He leaned his head down and nuzzled her neck, running his hands down her bare back to squeeze her ass. "God damn, Clarissa. I'm having trouble controlling myself." Clary suddenly jerked herself away from him and ran into the bathroom. Hmm. She wants to play hard to get? I always win, kitten.
Clary busted into the bathroom, her heart pounding. Shit, Fray. Don't tip him off. What's a little heavy petting with a complete psycho obsessed maniac? She was going to have to succumb to some of his come-ons or he would get suspicious. I will not let him put his dick inside of me again. Stay cool. She heard the door creak open. Shit. "Clarissa, why did you run away?" Jonathan stood shirtless and barefoot in her doorway, his faded, ripped jeans doing little to hide his arousal. He stretched his arm above his head and flexed as he held on to the top of the doorframe. Act appropriately. He's your boyfriend. Get in his head. Fuck. Clary ran her eyes up and down his body appreciatively and licked her lips. "I'm just anxious for our bath, Jon. I need to soak my sore little... pussy, if I ever hope to fit your demon cock inside of me again."
His eyes widened at her filthy words and he licked his lips in return. Yep. He liked that. He walked forward and ran his hand across her bare chest. Jesus. He knows how to touch me. "Of course, love. One more day won't kill me, but that doesn't mean we can't do other things, Clarissa." He smirked down at her and chuckled, then kicked his jeans and boxers off. Oh shit. She hummed and nodded and turned on the tub water, pouring the lavender bath oil inside, watching nervously as the bubbles formed and the tub quickly filled. She turned to the mirror and pulled her hair up on top of her head, twisting it into a messy bun and clipping it. She heard the tub faucet turn off behind her. Jonathan pressed himself against her, his erection poking her lower back. Crap. He locked eyes with her in the mirror and lowered his mouth to her neck, placing soft kisses, as he fondled her breasts. Clary swallowed, her breath quickening. How is this psycho turning me on?
Clary's eyes widened as he dropped to his knees behind her, sliding her leggings and panties down with him, pulling them and her shoes and socks off. Oh my god. Clary jumped when he pulled her legs apart and reached his long arm up and pushed her forward. "Palms down and bend over, Clarissa… like you're getting frisked." Clary raised her eyebrows, but obeyed and took the position. "Jonathan, I don't think this is a good–" She gasped loudly as she felt his fingers gently probing her tender folds.
He cooed sympathetically. "Is this where it hurts, love? Did my demon cock hurt your little angel pussy, Clarissa?" Let me make it all better." Clary cried out when she felt his tongue plunge deep into her center. She tried to stand up, but he held her flat on the counter with his arms. "Jon stop– oh fuck. No–" She felt her lower abdomen coil deliciously as he licked deep into her slit and she quickly started to climb towards an orgasm. Jonathan suddenly stood and pulled her up, spinning her towards him. He slammed his mouth against hers, plunging his tongue into her mouth hungrily. Clary moaned as she tasted herself on his lips. He then lifted her up onto the counter and pulled her ass to the edge, before dropping again to his knees. Clary leaned back on her hands, her chest heaving with pants. "No. Stop, Jon–" His eyes looked feral and he growled at her, as he buried his face between her legs. He pulled them over his shoulders so her feet hung down his back. He licked up and down her slit, plunging his tongue into her depths before moving up to suck her clit in and out of his mouth. He gently probed her heated center with his index finger, slipping it in slowly while he ravaged her clit. Slowly, he circled his finger inside of her tender hole, spreading her wetness around like a salve. Clary's muscles clenched around his finger and the coil in her abdomen tightened considerably. She grunted in short high-pitched beats. No, no, no.
It felt so fucking good, but she needed him to stop. He's going to make me cum. "Stop, Jon!" She tried to sit up and move away from his mouth, but he growled again and bit down lightly on her clit… it was a warning to sit still, but shoved her over the edge. Clary threw her head back and screamed his name as she exploded around his tongue and finger. He laughed gleefully against her folds, the vibrations sending even more ripples of pleasure through her body. She sat stunned, her eyes wide and wild as she panted helplessly on the counter, her legs still over his shoulder. "Clarissa, my love, you taste like honey and nectar. Your pussy is intoxicating. I could eat you every day." He held her thighs apart, locked eyes with her and kissed her clit, running his tongue slowly up and down her slit, before pulling away. Clary pulled her shaking legs off of his shoulders and sat up, squeezing her knees together.
He stood up and moved close to her, pulling her chin up with two fingers. He smiled smugly down at her, his face still glistening with her juices. "Now, sweet Clariss–" Jonathan's head flew to the side as Clary screamed and slapped him hard across the face. "What part of no and stop did you not fucking understand, Jonathan? You had no right to force that on me. I said no! I said stop. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jonathan put his hand to his red cheek and slowly turned back to her. Oh shit. His eyes glittered angrily and he tilted his head at her, his breath quickening. Oh my god. I shouldn't have hit him. He stood up straight and quickly reached for her upper arms and pulled her down from the counter, jerking her against him. She gasped as his hands irritated her bruises, her eyes filled with tears. "You're hurting my arms, Jonathan… again. Please stop. You're frightening me." Stay calm and talk to him. He quickly let go of her arms and stepped back, flicking his eyes to her bruises and pursing his lips. Clary crossed her arms over her chest, hiding it from his view.
He took a deep breath and looked at her with a sober expression. "I'm sorry, Clarissa. I got carried away. I just wanted you to feel better and I couldn't stop. Now. Get in the tub. We need to wash, have lunch, and move on." He hummed and grinned at her maniacally, holding out his hand to help her in the tub. Don't trigger him. He is fucking crazy. Clary put her trembling hand in his and got in the tub, sinking to her shoulders in the hot bubbly water. He got in behind her and pulled her back against his chest. "Be a good girl, Clarissa." He warned as he pressed on her shoulders until she relaxed into him. Clary took a deep breath and stopped trembling. Be careful. He took a bath sponge and saturated it with water and vanilla body wash and began tenderly washing her body beneath the water, humming a slow tune. He reached his other hand beneath the water and slid it over her mound, then suddenly plunged his fingers inside of her, clutching her sensitive flesh in his fist. Clary cried out and struggled to get away. He circled his other arm around her neck and murmured in her ear. "Don't ever hit me again, Clarissa. If you do, I will have to punish you, kitten. Don't make me have to do that. Do we understand each other, my love?" Clary slowly nodded, whimpering. "Y-yes, Jonathan. I'm sorry." He gently released his hand from between her legs and relaxed his hold on her neck and began washing Clary's back and kissing her shoulders. Clary sat very still and let him wash her, as tears filled her eyes and silently ran down her face. Oh my god. I don't know how long I can keep this up. I have to find somewhere to hide. Hurry, Jace. Please hurry.
Jace grunted and struggled, his face smashed into the carpet. "Fuck! Okay. Let me up, asshole." Will leaned down and pressed his knee harder into Jace's back, twisting his wrist further behind him. Jace hissed in pain. He had him pinned solidly on the floor and Jace was not getting up. "Not yet, brat." Will looked over his shoulder. "Jem, take my baby cousin's boots and coat and go lock them in your room, please." Jem, Will's partner and best friend smiled and saluted Will. "Right-O, Will. I'll be in there, waiting for you Herondale's to hash this out… such a rambunctious lot." He pulled Jace's boots off and swiped his coat from the floor and exited into the suite next door.
Jace growled and struggled to buck Will off of his back. "Let me up, Will. I mean it… he fucking raped her! Drugged her. I can't stand it! He's going to do it again!" Jace relaxed, collapsing against the carpet. "He drugged me and– had sex…r-raped me… I couldn't stop it…couldn't say no, Jace." I'm failing her again.
Will sighed and released Jace, standing over him. "I understand all of that, okay. But you running off into a bleeding blizzard to try to rescue her which, in case you've forgotten, Morgenstern Manor is over three hours away by car, is foolish! Where were you going to get on foot, dumbass? Stick to the plan or I'll have you cuffed and locked up for yours and Clary's safety. Look, we've lost contact with Amatis. She's probably dead, goddammit. We can't rescue Clary, if you tip off the targets… fucking American detectives always think you know everything. Luke told me you were smart, one of the best. Be that guy. Quit thinking with your emotions and use your brain. You're a Herondale for Christ's sake. Act like it." Will raked his hand through his black curls and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace. He rubbed his sore jaw where Jace had punched him, trying to leave after talking to Clary on the phone.
Jace turned over and stood up, panting. "I know. Fuck, I know. You're right. I get it. I just lost it after she told me what he– Shit, I didn't even get the chance to warn her that Jonathan is Sebastian. Oh god. He's a sick, perverted sadist, Will. She is in real danger. She's alone in that giant compound with Valentine, Jonathan, multiple goons. I just hope she can keep her wits and stay strong. The storm lets up tomorrow, then we can trigger our plan. I'll follow your rules, Will. Just let me have Jonathan Morgenstern. His ass is mine." Jace flopped down next to his cousin on the couch. Will reached his fist over to Jace and they fist-bumped. "You got it, cousin. Morgenstern is yours." Tomorrow, Clary.