The Secrets Behind The Scars

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

"Why do you fight?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence that surrounded us.

It was a question which I had on my mind for a long time now but only really wanted to ask about it now since I knew that the stories about him fighting were true.

I kept my eyes on what I was doing while I was waiting for an answer.

I saw his cheekbones tense and then relax. "Is the quiet Alice actually asking a question to get to know me?" He asked.

Pursing my lips, I moved my eyes over to his and saw that they were hard, not the usual gentle hazel colour they were. "Don't answer a question with a question."

He smirked, "don't you like that, Sweetheart?"

"It's not what's meant to happen," I replied.

Jace sucked in a long breath and moved a little closer to me, "then what's meant to happen, Sweetheart?"

The close proximity was a little too much for me and made me move back a little, making more space between us. "You obviously don't want to answer the question so don't worry about it."

I went back to the task on hand, which was now putting some stereo-strips on his cut eyebrow, making it stick together. I put another towel on under the running faucet, ringed it out and went to his cut lip gently dabbing it.

"Well your face is all cleaned up although you might end up with a wicked black eye tomorrow from where Liam hit your eyebrow," I told him. "Now lift up your shirt."

Jace raised his eyebrow, amusement crossing his face.

"Don't." I said sternly after realising what I said. "Just let me take a look at your side."

He squinted at me, "how do you know I was hit at my side? You didn't get there until later, so my friends told me."

"I just know."

He was doing well at hiding it when he was walking and driving, but during the fight I was easily able to tell.

"And how would that be?" He asked.

"If you won't tell me why you fight then I won't tell you how I know, now just lift up your shirt so I can take a look." I sternly told him, annoyance coming through my speech.

"Well played," he said while taking off his shirt but with difficulty.

I gripped the end of the dirty shirt and helped it off him making his perfect, chiseled abs coming into view and making me try my best to keep at straight face. How often he fought to keep such a perfect physique really made me wonder.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

I shot him a glare.

"Please stand, so I can have a better view," I told him, motioning with my hand for him to rise up.

He did as he was told and stoop up as straight as he could.

I moved me hands to him stomach, ignoring the urge to run my fingers over his abdominal area, outlining every indent and muscle formed. Pressing down at his left side, where it was red and just where his ribs were I heard him take a sharp intake of breath and hunching over a little.

"You're doing well at hiding it," I admired him.

"I try," he grunted when I pressed a little further upwards.

"Looks like you may have bruised your ribs," I explained. "That must've been some hit you received."

He shrugged.