The One That Got Away (The Bounty Hunter Trilogy)

Chapter seventeen

A/N: LISTEN UP my intellectual badasses (aka nerds). This story is probably going to end soon, because as I already have mentioned before, I had initially planned it as a trilogy. And I think I'd like to keep it that way, because I have plans *evil laugh*. So, just a heads up. Okay, I'm going to stop now. Proceed. Or not. Idk, who even reads these (besides my gang of intellectual badasses, of course)??

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Jace's mind was just as alert as it always was, maybe even more, because of the fiery redhead that had her elbow linked with his. She looked absolutely stunning in the long, black dress that hugged her petite figure and the stilettos that were partly hidden by the silky fabric - yet, Jace could glimpse them and the black see-through stocking when she moved, the slit of the dress on the left side making way for her feet to move, because mobility was key, even in formal situations. Not that Jace was staring. He raised his gaze immediately, not wanting to get caught staring and was greeted by a warm smile and emerald eyes staring back at his mismatched ones, the warmth and slight amusement twinkling in each one. One of her perfectly arched eyebrows was raised in question and he felt a squeeze on his arm.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Mr. Barton. We'd take a look at your facility, then, to make sure it is suitable for our intended, ah, purposes." Jace drawled, getting back into discussion with the short and stout man. The man was sweating profusely (Jace cringed, why was it so damn hot in here?) and dapped his forehead with a white cloth as he nodded hastily, moving through the 'club'. The Lair was a very dimly lit and hazy place, the poles around the room, with a few women elegantly tangled around them (Jace raised an eyebrow, but then averted his gaze when he felt a jab at his back), and the dark blue, velvety seats spread across the room. There were a lot of dodgy people for sure, Jace could detect a mob-looking group, smoking cigars and talking in Italian, and there were also some young men with questionable state of minds, the needle punctures on their arms very evident, their gaze glossed as he and Clary moved to follow the 'manager', as he called himself.

Jace doubted that was the case, as he moved his hand to loosen the tie of his suit. Why was it so fucking hot in here? Clary squeezed his arm. "Leave it." she practically hissed through her smile, when the bartender's suspicious eyes followed them. Jace shook his head, eyes to the ceiling. "I'm dying here. Why the fuck did we have to dress up like this." he mumbled and caught the redhead smirking. "Because, dumbass, we're undercover and the wires are better hidden. Also, if it makes you feel any better, you look handsome in a suit." she said, releasing his arm to walk in front of him, in order to go through the doorway Barton had just disappeared to. Her hips were swaying a little too much and Jace smiled. 

"So, how many people are we talking?" Barton asked when they were in the back rooms, various ones occupied with 'exotic dancers' and others with men chatting, looking very much like some henchmen from action movies. Clary leaned against the wall, her leg going up to support her whilst her gloved covered hands (they went up to her arms, like she was fit to dance at a ball) searched her glittery purse for her phone. She blew a bubble, chewing her gum and gave the man a very uninterested glance. Jace was very astonished how good Clary was at acting like the wife of a mobster. Jace straightened his posture, tilting his head. "About 20 women, I can get them here by tomorrow night. I will also require some sort of formal contract so I can take a look at how things have been run here in the past. Valentine said that you'd have a few room where I could deal with the money?" Jace said lazily, while Clary stared at the camera of her phone, pretending she was using it as a mirror. Jace knew she was recording.

"Ah, yes, about that. Could I see some proof that this is indeed a valid information?" Barton asked and Jace smiled. They had done it all correctly. Faked documents and even Valentine's own signature. Looking at Barton, Jace knew the man wasn't of the brightest. So he stretched out his hand towards Clary, smiling brightly again. "Darling, the documents, if you will." he ordered and Clary raised her head, fishing in her purse. She came over, her hand snaking around his torso as she rested her chin on his shoulder, the papers ion her outstretched hand. "Here you go, sweetie." she said sweetly and Jace smirked, taking them and handing them to the short man.