Chapter 250 Chapter Two Hundred And Fifty

Chapter 250 Chapter Two Hundred And Fifty
LENA'S POV

Jace must have seen the hurt I was trying so hard to hide behind my very shaky confidence because he suddenly crushed me into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe.

"Everything's going to be okay," he said into my hair, his voice muffled but firm. "I promise, princess. We'll figure this out."

"Go ahead and say it," I told him, letting out a laugh that sounded more hysterical than I intended. "You told me so."

The laugh turned into something closer to a sob, and I had to bite my lip to keep it together. Because the whole thing was so ridiculous and unbelievable, and if I didn't laugh about it, I'd probably start crying and never stop.

"Come on, Lena. You know I would never fucking say that." He hugged me tighter, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head.

I breathed in his scent and let myself take comfort in it for just a moment.

"But you'd be right though," I said, my voice muffled against his chest. "You did tell me I was going to get a whole lot more than I bargained for if I ever got in her way. You warned me, and I didn't listen. I was so sure I could handle it, that I could stand up to her and win. And now..."

I trailed off, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Even though I still don't think I would've taken it back, all those months ago when I first decided I was going to get back at Allison for everything she did to me, at least now I can say that you were right. About all of it."

Jace's eyes were intense, serious. "Don't worry. It isn't over yet ye, not if I have something to say about it. I'm sure we can think of something else before we run out of time. There's always a way out, princess. Always."

I sniffled, suddenly remembering. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I forgot to ask, how was your test? Did it go well?"

Jace hesitated, and I could see him weighing whether to change the subject or push me to talk more about the Allison situation.

"Please," I said quietly. "Just talk to me about something normal for a minute so I don't completely lose my mind."

"Alright, whatever you need." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another to my temple, then pulled me back into his arms and just held me for a long moment, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"The test was actually great," he said finally, starting to lead me toward one of the study tables tucked away in the corner of the library where we'd have more privacy.

"I mean, I've definitely had way fucking worse ones. I mean there have definitely been a lot of times when I showed up to class and didn't even know we had a test, so... Yeah, this was nothing compared to those disasterz."

"Did the notes help?" I asked, letting him guide me into a chair before he sat down next to me, pulling his chair close enough that our knees touched.

"A hundred percent. I would've been completely fucked without them." He reached over and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. "You're a genius, you know that? Every single thing you highlighted was on that test. It was like you'd seen the answer key or something."

"That's good to know," I said, managing a small smile.

But Jace was watching me closely now, his eyes scanning my face and then dropping to my clothes. He reached out and touched my shirt, brushing at something on my shoulder. "There's a lot of dust on your clothes. How the hell did that happen?"

I mulled it over for a second, chewing on my bottom lip. Part of me wanted to lie, to come up with some innocent explanation. But I couldn't. Not to him.

Even though he might hate me for going through with the bag plan anyway, I couldn't lie to his face.

"I have to tell you something," I said slowly. "But please don't be mad at me."

Jace's expression shifted immediately to wariness. "Lena, you know I could never be mad at you. But please tell me you didn't go through with raiding Madison's locker."

I took a deep breath. "Actually, I kind of did."

"Shoot me now." Jace groaned.

And then I told him everything. I started slowly at first, carefully choosing my words, but then it all came rushing out in a flood—how I'd found Madison.

I told him about hiding in the media room, about finding the hidden compartment, about cutting open a thirty-thousand-dollar Birkin with rusty scissors.

Jace just stared at me the whole time, completely dumbfounded. "All of this happened in how long? Two hours?

When I paused to catch my breath, he suddenly reached up with his hand—and I realized with horror that he was about to spit on it.

"What are you doing?" I jerked back.

"There's dust in your hair, I'm trying to—"

"Gross! No!" I batted his hand away. "Absolutely not. That's disgusting."

Jace rolled his eyes in mock offense. "I'm trying to help you look presentable, princess. You've got stuff all over you."

"Don't worry, I'll just get it out in the bathroom later," I said quickly.

"Enough stalling." His expression turned serious again. "I know you didn't get into that locker by yourself. Who helped you? Who the fuck knows how to pick locks?"

I sighed. "This junior girl named Sarah Mitchell. Remember that day I slapped Allison in the hallway?"

"How could I forget? That was fucking beautiful."

"Well, Sarah was the girl Allison was bullying. She recognized me and wanted to help. Turns out her dad builds security systems for a living, and she's been his assistant since she was a kid. She picked Madison's lock in under a minute."

"Goddamn." Jace shook his head, looking almost impressed. "Okay, so you've got this random girl helping you commit crimes now. Great. What else?"

I got to the part about cutting open the bag, and Jace actually groaned out loud. "You can't be fucking serious. Please tell me you didn't actually—"

"I did." I pulled out the SD card from my pocket and placed it on the table between us. "But look what I found."

Jace picked up the tiny memory card, examining it like it was a bomb that might go off. "What's on it?"

"Photos of my handwriting. Tons of them. From library books I'd made notes in over the years. Allison must have collected them all, photographed every page, and used them as samples for whoever forged those cheat sheets."

I paused. "There were also a few videos I didn't get a chance to look at yet. And a phone number."

"Way to go, James Bond. But why would anyone ever go to this extent?" Jace was still studying the SD card, turning it over in his fingers. "This is some next-level psycho shit."

He looked up at me. "You know, people have called me crazy before—hell, I've done some pretty fucked up things. But I think you just might be crazier than I am, princess."

"I know," I said, frustration bubbling up again. "I just—I knew this whole thing with Allison at the library would only end up being an argument that went nowhere. She was never going to admit to anything or help me. So I did what I had to do."

Jace nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess it's your turn now to say 'I told you so' about that being a wtotal aste of time."

I shook my head, resting my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes for a moment. "I'm not going to say that."

We sat in silence for a bit, and then I continued my confession. "There's more."

"I bet there is." Jace muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Like I said, there was a phone number in a document on the SD card. Just a number, nothing else. No name, no context. I think it's whoever Allison hired to do the forgeries."

I felt Jace tense beside me. "And?"

"So what do you think?" I lifted my head to look at him. "Should I call it?"

"Absolutely fucking not." His response was immediate and firm. "Are you insane? That could be a professional criminal, Lena. You call them up out of nowhere, and they'll either block you immediately or worse—they'll figure out someone's onto them and destroy any evidence they have. Or they'll come after you."

"I was just going to—"

"What were you going to say?" Jace interrupted, his voice rising slightly before he remembered we were in a library and lowered it again. "Were you planning to go, 'Hey, I'm a referral from Allison's high school, and I heard your forgery work got someone expelled. Super impressive. I want to do that too—do you take cash or card?'"

I winced. When he put it like that, it sounded ridiculous.

"It never occurred to me that organized crime could be involved," I admitted quietly. "In my head, I was thinking maybe it was just some student who was good at copying handwriting. Like someone who does people's homework for money or something."

"Lena." Jace set the SD card down and turned to face me fully, taking both my hands in his.

"Think about it for a second. The level of skill it would take to forge documents that well? That perfectly? I don't think we're talking about some high school kid copying notes. This is someone who knows what they're doing. Someone professional."

"But..."

"You just wait, I'll tell you all the things that could go wrong." He started ticking off points on his fingers. "I get the feeling there's no other way to make you understand the risk."

"First risk: they're a professional forger, which means they probably work for criminals or rich people who need documents faked. You call them, they'll know immediately something's off. They'll either trace your number or just hang up and warn Allison that someone's sniffing around.

"Second risk: even if they don't hang up, what makes you think they'll talk to you? These people don't just chat about their illegal activities with random strangers. They'll want verification that you're legit, references, probably payment up front. You don't have any of that.

"Third risk: let's say by some miracle they do talk to you. You record the conversation, right? That's your plan? Well, guess what—depending on the state, recording someone without their consent is fucking illegal. So now you've got illegally obtained evidence that might not even be admissible, and you've also committed wiretapping or whatever the fuck they call it.

"How do you know about all this stuff" I asked, surprised.

Jace held up one finger, "Hold on. I'm not done."

Then he kept going, "Fourth risk: whoever this person is, they clearly don't want to be found. You start poking around, asking questions, and they might decide you're a threat. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have some criminal deciding you need to be dealt with."

With each point, I felt my conviction crumbling. Each risk he laid out made the phone call seem less like a good idea and more like a potential disaster.

"Okay," I said finally, deflating completely. "Okay, you're right. Calling is a bad idea."

Jace squeezed my hands. "I'm not trying to shit on your plan, princess. I'm just trying to keep you safe. And alive. Preferably both.

He finished, "Assume the best, prepare for the worst, that's what I always say."

I muttered, "I've literally never heard you say that."

Jace just nodded sagely, "But it is good advice, no?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I nodded along with him.

"But if we don't call the number and Allison won't listen to us," I said slowly, feeling the weight of our situation pressing down on me again, "what do we do?"