Eight

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Eight: Arrested

I walked outside of the club entrance and fought my way through the people crowding around the entrance, waiting for a chance to be let inside the booming night club, I could feel my knees getting weak. It may be due to the fact I wore and dance in heels, or it may be due to the fact that Jace is clearly upset with me.

Jace and I bicker from time to time, but we can never go long without speaking. Never do our fights end up in an apology. Usually they end in ya just laughing about how dumb we are or ignoring the situation completely.

I knew it wasn't healthy to avoid talking about our problems, but usually Jace and I didn't have problems. Whatever his problem is tonight may not even be involve me, but from the look he was giving me I could only assume it is.

I cross my arms over my chest as the crisp winter air hits my body, the thin material of my dress doing a poor job at keeping me warm. I could have wore a jacket, but looking like a bad bitch was too important in the moment.

I spot Jace leaning against the brick exteriors of Diva's. He was typing away on his phone, not paying a bit of attention to his surroundings.

I march over to him and snatch the phone from his hands, causing him to jump from the shock. I expected him to immediately try and fight me, but I think he realized it was me before he could.

"Give it back," he hisses at me.

So Jace wanted to play this game.

"What's your problem?" I ask.

Jace rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall, bringing his arms up to cross over his chest just like mine were over mine.

"I don't have a problem," he insists, his voice a bit softer this time.

"Why are you out here then?"

"If you're going to stand out here and interview me the least you can do is put on a coat," Jace says to me as he shrugs the denim jacket he was wearing off.

I scrunch my nose up at his sudden change of behavior. I don't take the coat he was wearing from him, making him even more annoyed. Instead of holding it out for me, he takes matters into his own hands and puts the coat around my shoulders.

"Better," he whispers, his hands still on the front of the jacket.

"Jace Hughes," I groan, running my hands through my hair, "Why are you so confusing?"

Jace lets go of the jacket and leans back on the wall, a glint of amusement in his eye.

"Oh, no. We aren't dodging questions. What did I do?"

The caring Jace that had previously taken over had vanished and the frustrated and annoyed Jace took over as he nearly laughed at my question.

"Do you even know who that guys was?" He asks.

"Are you serious right now?" I spit at him, but the look he was giving me let me know he was completely serious. "His name is Tyler. He's the one I went on the date with," I confess.

"I know his name, Octavia. I was the one who arrested him," Jace snapped.

I feel my blood run cold when Jace says the word 'arrested.' What could Tyler have been arrested for?

I set Jace's phone down on the ground in front of him, silently and quickly, before I start walking away from him. I didn't want to have the conversation with Jace. I didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

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