Chapter 3 3

"Lines in the Sand"

.

Jace had been enrolled last minute, courtesy of my mom pushing for "a fresh start." Apparently, the school had just accepted his records from whatever place he'd been before. Not that anyone knew where that was, exactly.

Now he walked the same halls I had owned for years. And people noticed.

By third period, the whispers had already begun.

"Isn't that the new guy Lena's mom took in?"

"I heard he was in juvie. Something about cars?"

"He doesn't talk to anyone-except Lena."

Great. Because that wouldn't make everything worse.

It didn't help that Jace didn't seem to care about the attention. He breezed through the crowd like he was above it, eyes forward, headphones in. He didn't smile. He didn't acknowledge anyone. And yet, everyone wanted to know him.

Everyone... except me.

At least, that's what I told myself.

"Earth to Lena."

I blinked. Kira waved a hand in front of my face as we sat in the cafeteria, a half-eaten apple in her hand and a knowing look in her eyes.

"You've been zoned out since second period. Let me guess..." she dropped her voice and wiggled her eyebrows. "It's the bad boy."

I groaned. "Can we not?"

"We can't not." Kira leaned forward. "He sat next to you in Lit, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, because there were no other seats."

"And?"

"And nothing." I bit into my sandwich. "We didn't talk."

That was technically true.

What I didn't say was how it had felt to sit next to him for an entire forty-five minutes. How his scent-something like cedar and cold air-had messed with my ability to focus. How the whole room seemed smaller with him in it.

"I just don't get it," Kira said thoughtfully. "You two live together. Isn't it awkward?"

"Yes. Very."

"But he's hot."

"Stop."

"You're step-siblings."

"I said stop."

But the damage was done. The thought had already taken root-dangerous and untouchable.

Because the truth was, it was getting harder to keep the lines between us clear.

Especially after Friday night.

Especially after what he said.

"I think you're a lot braver than you let on."

I hadn't stopped thinking about it.

And that scared me more than anything.

That afternoon, I found him leaning against my car in the parking lot, twirling his keys like he had every right to be there.

"You're blocking my door," I said flatly.

He didn't move. "Thought I'd offer you a ride home."

I blinked. "You have your bike back?"

"Picked it up this morning."

"And you want me on it? No thanks."

He shrugged. "Didn't say I wanted you on it. Just thought I'd ask."

I crossed my arms. "So what's the real reason you're here?"

His eyes flicked to mine. "I was bored."

"And that's my problem because...?"

He tilted his head, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips. "Because we both know you're just as bored as I am."

I hated how right he was.

I unlocked my car and slid into the driver's seat. "Last chance to get out of my way."

He stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine. Your loss."

As I pulled away, I didn't look back.

But I felt his eyes on me the whole time.

That night, the house was too quiet.

Mom was working late-something about a last-minute client. The shadows stretched longer when I came home, and the air had that stillness that made my skin itch.

I headed to my room with a book and every intention of ignoring the world.

But my peace didn't last.

A soft knock came at my door about an hour later. I didn't answer at first. Then, it came again-two firm raps.

"What?" I called.

"It's Jace."

I sighed. "Obviously."

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated. Every rational thought screamed no. But curiosity-and something deeper-won.

"Yeah."

He stepped in, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert.

"Wow," he said, glancing around. "Very... Lena."

"Thanks, I think?"

He smirked. "What are you reading?"

"Dystopian fantasy. A girl trying to survive in a world that keeps trying to break her."

He nodded. "Sounds familiar."

I raised a brow. "What do you want, Jace?"

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking less sure of himself.

"I need a favor."

That caught me off guard.

"I'm not writing your essays."

"Not school stuff," he said quickly. "Something else."

I set the book down, cautious. "Go on."

"I need a ride tomorrow. Into the city."

"The city?"

He nodded. "Just for an hour or two. I have to... handle something."

"Handle what?"

His jaw tightened. "It's personal."

I stared at him. "You can't just expect me to drop everything and drive you across the county with zero explanation."

"I'm not expecting anything." His voice was quiet. "I'm asking."

The vulnerability in his eyes was real. And that made it worse.

"Fine," I said finally. "But if this gets me arrested or murdered, I'm blaming you."

"You won't," he said with a faint smile. "I'd never let anything happen to you."

And just like that, the breath whooshed from my lungs... Because he meant it... And that terrified me most of all.

We left after breakfast, Jace giving vague directions as we drove through unfamiliar streets and neighborhoods that didn't show up on my GPS.

Eventually, we pulled up outside a weathered building with bars on the windows and peeling paint.

"Stay here," he said, already halfway out the door.

I opened mine too. "Not a chance. You said I wouldn't get hurt, remember?"

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You really want to come in?"

"I really don't want to sit out here wondering if you're getting shot."

His mouth twitched-something between a frown and reluctant amusement. "Suit yourself."

Inside, the place smelled like cigarette smoke and stale coffee. A woman behind a plastic divider looked up briefly, then waved Jace through without a word.

We moved down a hallway until we reached a room with a metal table and two chairs.

"What is this place?" I whispered.

He hesitated. "Halfway house. My uncle used to run it."

"Used to?"

"He died."

I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

He nodded but said nothing.

A minute later, a man entered. Younger than I expected-maybe mid-thirties, with sharp eyes and a scar above his left brow.

"Jace." The man smiled. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

Jace stood. "Ray."

They shook hands like old war buddies-tight, brief, loaded with history.

Ray's eyes slid to me. "Friend?"

"Stepsister," Jace said evenly.

"Ah. You've got guts, coming here." He gestured for us to sit. "So what's the deal?"

They talked quietly while I stayed silent, absorbing fragments. Something about a favor owed. Something about a name-Marco. And a warning.

"She shouldn't be here if you're getting back into that," Ray said suddenly.

"I'm not," Jace said firmly. "I just need to make sure certain people know I'm not interested."

Ray stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded. "Alright. But if he hears you're asking around-"

"I'll handle it."

Ray looked at me again. "Keep an eye on him. He pretends he doesn't need it."

I met his gaze, startled. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one he listens to."

I didn't know what to say.

On the way out, I finally asked, "Who's Marco?"

Jace's jaw clenched. "No one you need to worry about."

"That's not an answer."

"No. It's protection."

We drove in silence the rest of the way back... But my mind was racing... Because for the first time, I saw just how deep Jace's secrets ran... And I had the sick feeling I'd only scratched the surface.

Back at home, the silence between us stretched taut like a fraying wire. Jace hadn't spoken since we left the city, and I didn't push. I could tell he was lost in whatever memory had clawed its way to the surface during that meeting with Ray.

But I wasn't going to pretend I didn't have questions.

When we pulled into the driveway, he cut the engine and leaned back in the passenger seat, eyes closed.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice softer than I expected.

He opened one eye. "Define 'okay.'"

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

I waited.

He exhaled slowly. "You know that feeling when you're trying to outrun something, but no matter how far you get, it's still breathing down your neck?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. That."

I turned off the car. "Come inside. You need food or sleep. Or both."

He didn't argue, which surprised me.

Inside, I made grilled cheese. It wasn't gourmet, but it was warm, and it gave me something to focus on other than the storm brewing in my chest. Jace sat at the counter, elbows resting on the granite, head down.

When I slid the plate in front of him, he gave a faint smile.

"You didn't poison it, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Only a little. Just enough to make you chill out."

He took a bite. "Tastes like sarcasm."

"That's because it's my main ingredient."

For a few moments, there was nothing but the sound of chewing and the rain starting to patter against the windows.

"You want to know who Marco is," he said quietly.

I froze.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"He's no one now. But he used to run with a crew I got tangled up with last year. Stupid stuff-boosted bikes, fake IDs, parties that got out of hand. It started small."

"And then?"

"And then it didn't stay small."

He looked up at me, and I saw the shadow in his eyes.

"Ray helped me get out. My mom didn't want anything to do with me by then, and my dad was in prison. Ray got me into that halfway house and made some calls."

I leaned on the counter, heart heavy. "And now Marco thinks you owe him?"

Jace nodded slowly. "More than that. He thinks I know something he can use. But I don't. And I'm not going back."

"So that's why you didn't want to come here."

He smiled bitterly. "This place isn't big enough for ghosts."

I didn't know what to say. For once, the sarcastic armor I always wore felt pointless.

"You're not alone anymore, Jace."

He blinked, caught off guard.

"You have this whole fresh start. You have... me. Even if we drive each other crazy."

His voice was rough when he answered. "You don't even know what you're offering."

"Then tell me."

He stood abruptly, pushing his plate aside. "No. Not now."

I followed him to the stairs. "Why not?"

"Because if I start, I won't stop." His eyes locked with mine, sharp and raw. "And I don't know if you'll still look at me the same."

There was a beat of silence, the rain now steady, like the world was holding its breath.

"I already don't," I whispered.

He froze.

"I already see you differently," I said. "And it's not because of what you've done. It's because of who you are when you think no one's watching."

His throat worked as he swallowed. "And who's that?"

"Someone worth trusting."

He stared at me like I'd cracked open something inside him. Like he couldn't figure out if he wanted to shut the door again or walk through it.

Then he stepped forward. Just a single step. But it was enough to shift the air between us.

"Lena," he said, voice low. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"What isn't?"

"This. Us. Whatever this tension is."

I took a breath. "It doesn't matter if it's a good idea."

He looked at me like I was made of fire and he wasn't sure if he wanted to burn or run.

And then-

A key turned in the front door.

We both jumped back just in time as Mom called, "I'm home!"

I cleared my throat, stepping away as Jace turned toward the stairs.

"I'll be in my room," he muttered.

I watched him go, heart pounding like it was trying to break free of my chest... Because the truth was, I didn't know what scared me more- How close we'd come to crossing that invisible line... Or how badly I wanted to do it again.