Golden Boy

S E V E N - T E E N

My heart was pounding loudly in my ears. I didn't dare move, or breathe, or even think. The sound of glass shattering rang in my ears over and over again like a broken record. Someone forced their way into my home, my safe space, my sanctuary, to cause me harm, likely after the stolen goods Jace hid in my bedroom. 

Jace slowly made his way back to me, wrapping his cold, long fingers firmly around my bicep and guiding me away from my bedroom door. Slowly, he backed us into the corner of my room, behind the closet door. He lifted a finger, placing it on the crook of my neck, turning my face to look at him. A shadow cast his eyes into the darkness, making them look more deadly than friendly. He put a finger to his lips, signaling me to stay quiet, and slipping his bad with the stolen canvas into my hands. 

"I'll be right back," he whispered, releasing his hold on me and swiftly turning to exit my room. 

I pressed my back against the wall and slowly slid down, trying to make myself appear as little as possible. I wasn't sure what was happening, but I had a feeling my quiet night was not going to be so quiet after all. 

I thought I left behind the excitement from the guys this weekend, or at least I hoped I had. It managed to follow me all the way back to my home, and now all I could think about was what my parents would be walking into when they came home. 

There was a loud crash downstairs. I heard unfamiliar voices yelling profanities at Jace and Jace yelling them right back. The sound of skin punching skin thudded loudly, making me cringe. A fight was happening in my living room where hopefully Jace was winning. 

A minute passed, and then another where nothing sounded. No one was yelling or fighting or even probably moving. Just as quickly as they had descended into violence, it became quiet. I feared this more. I wasn't sure if the intruders were still in my living room, but I was too afraid to find out. I sat petrified in my own bedroom, clutching a painting worth millions of dollars, and wondering how I got into this position. Just last week, my biggest worry was passing my geography class, and now I would be lucky to wake up tomorrow. 

Footsteps quickly sounded up the stairs, making me freeze in place. Jace appeared through my door, blood on his face, hands and splattered on his black clothing. He had a wild look in his eyes, and a deep frown set on his face. 

"We have to go right now," he said storming over to me. "Give me the painting." 

His tone indicated that he expected me to refuse, but I gladly handed pushed it into his hands.

"What is going on?"

"No time to explain, we have to go," he said hauling me up to my feet and half dragging me to the door. 

"Hold on," I said, yanking my arm out of his grasp and standing my ground. "Let me grab some shoes at least."

Jace waited for me, watching me with a strange look in his eyes. He pursed his mouth, clenching his jaw, tracking my every movement. I pulled on the closest pair of sneakers I could find, grabbed my jacket, and turned back to Jace so that he could lead the way out. 

I hesitantly took the stairs, afraid of the aftermath that I was walking into. After the incident with Oliver, I was expecting there to be bodies on the floor, so I was relieved when I saw that my living room looked exactly the same as it had when I left to go upstairs. I looked over to Jace who simply shrugged and kept moving. 

I scanned the floor for broken glass, but there was none, which made me question what all of the noise from before was. I quickly followed behind Jace, not wanting to be left behind. 

We got into his car that was parked in front of my house, which I thought was really bold considering that he had broken into my room again. 

"Well?"