Alright, so, I'm back at again with another biker fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, and the title comes from song Crash World by Hilary Duff.

Clarissa Morgenstern pursed her lips together as she looked in the rear view mirror of the car. Heidi McKenzie was practically lying down right on her back at this point, with Daniel Quinn stretched out over top of her. Heidi had drunk even more than Daniel had, and Daniel had been chugging back on a bottle of bourbon like it was water. She swallowed hard as she looked over at the drivers side, which was empty, since her boyfriend was out of his car and currently buying weed from some biker guy.

She didn't want to be here.

She wanted to be home.

It was almost three in the morning, and even though she didn't have any parents waiting on her to arrive back at their Newport Beach home, she did have a brunch date in the morning with Simon Lewis that she didn't want to miss. She had been drunk a few hours ago, and she had even let Jordan Kyle get a few public gropes in. But an hour later, and no longer at a party with a bunch of people from their school and instead driving around aimlessly until Jordan's 'hook up' got back to them, the buzz had worn off and now she was just pissed.

Clary gritted her teeth together and resisted the urge to start tapping her long, polished and glittering nails against the door. She could hear the sloppy sounds of the kisses from the two in the back seat and the whimpers that Heidi was letting out, and after another two, ridiculously long minutes went by, she made up her mind, and shoved open her door.

"Jordan!" She snapped as she got out of the car, cringing as her her heels sunk slightly into the wet dirt underneath her feet. She looked furiously over the top of the car, her red curls bouncing and her dark painted lips pressing together.

"Hold up!" Jordan snapped back at her. Clary glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited. It had been almost twenty minutes since they had parked up here, in a shadowy corner just off the highway, but the guy on the bike had only arrived five minutes ago. Clary wasn't sure how long this whole drug deal thing was meant to take, but she was pretty sure all that needed to happen was Jordan handed over the money, the biker handed over the drugs and that was it. She didn't understand why it was taking so long.

"Jordan, come on!" Clary lifted her voice, and this time, the biker lifted his head and looked over Jordan's shoulder at her. He was startling good looking, with shaggy golden hair and molten gold eyes, and he actually looked a little familiar as well.

"Get in the fucking car," Jordan growled over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn around and look back at her. Clary sighed—loudly—but didn't move. It was warm, just like it always was in California, and that was good since she was only wearing a short black and green dress that barely covered her ass and showed off her incredibly tanned legs. However, despite the warm temperature, there was a slightly cold breeze, and it made her shiver, her nipples hardening and pressing against the front of her dress, since she wasn't able to wear a bra with the type of dress it was.

"You're thirty short," came a low growl from the biker and Clary gritted her teeth together.

Great.

Now she was at a drug deal that was potentially going to go bad.

"Oh, come on," Jordan stated, sounding annoyed but also a little desperate. "I know that you overcharge us. Just cut us a break." Clary watched as the biker leveled Jordan with a flat look, arching an eyebrow before repeating,

"You're thirty short." Jordan made a frustrated noise and then turned around.

"Hey, babe," he began and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the fact that she was good enough to call 'babe' now that he wanted something. "You got thirty?"

"I don't carry cash on me," Clary sneered back at him and there was a snort from the biker. Jordan's wheedling smile dropped and he muttered something to the guy before coming over to the car. He opened the drivers door and Clary wondered for a moment if he was calling the whole thing off, but then he spoke to Daniel.

"Oi, Daniel. You got thirty on you?" He grunted. Clary sighed and had to stop herself from rolling her eyes back into her head. She looked up the road, which had been completely empty for the past fifteen minutes, and thank god for that, because she didn't need some late night cop driving by and seeing them participating in a drug deal. Not that it would be all that big of a deal, because Jordan's dad was a hot shot lawyer and he would sort everything out, but still—that would just be the cherry on top for an evening like this.

Her eyes swung back around and they skimmed over to the biker, and she felt a jolt as she realized that he was staring directly at her. His gaze was heated and intense, and it felt as though he could see right through the thin dress that she was wearing. Clary swallowed hard and then decided to get back into the car.

"Won't be much longer," Jordan mumbled as he straightened back up, now that he had gotten thirty dollars off Daniel before the guy had gone back to making out with his girlfriend. Or, actually, Clary was pretty sure that Heidi wasn't his girlfriend, she had a feeling that he had a girlfriend who was from another school, but that really wasn't any of her business. She pulled her door shut and crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she waited for her boyfriend to be done. He came back after another few minutes had passed, with a little baggie of multi coloured pills.

"What are those?" She asked, her perfectly arched eyebrows pinching together.

"It's X," Jordan replied as he opened the bag and offered it back to the people in the back seat. Both Daniel and Heidi took one with a grin and Jordan held it out to Clary, but she just stared at him with wide eyes.

"I thought you were getting weed or some shit!" Clary snapped at him. She vaguely heard the sound of the motorcycle engine flaring up outside the car but her entire focus was on her boyfriend. "What the fuck are you doing buying ecstasy?!" Jordan rolled his eyes in annoyance and he pulled the little bag back to himself and tipped it upward on his open palm. A pink pill slid out and onto his palm and her eyes got even wider. "What are you doing?!" She demanded and then let out a squeak as he threw the pill back. "You're meant to be driving us home! You can't take drugs!"

"Chill out," came a mumbled from the backseat, and it was only because Clary was so angry at Jordan that she didn't reach back and slap Daniel across the face.

"It takes a while to kick in, and we'll be back at my place before then," Jordan rolled his eyes as he sealed the bag back up and tossed it aimlessly toward his centre console. He turned his keys in the engine and the car roared to life, but Clary was in no way about to let him drive, even if it was to his place. His parents house was probably only about a ten minute drive from where they were now, and she really wasn't sure how long it took before ecstasy kicked in, but her own place was over twenty minutes away and she didn't want to risk it.

"No," Clary said stubbornly and opened her door. Jordan shot a look over at her and snorted.

"Shut the door," Jordan grunted at her as he glanced over his shoulder, double checking that the road was still clear as he shifted the car into reverse.

"No!" Clary's voice was more determined this time and Jordan made an exasperated noise.

"Well, you can't fucking drive, you were plastered just a few hours ago!" He told her. "So shut the fucking door so that we can go!" Clary set her jaw and with a deep breath in she leaned forward to snatch up her bag from where it was on the ground and got out of the car. Jordan's lips parted in confusion for a moment as she stood outside the car and slammed the door shut. Then he rolled his eyes and sneered at her, before reversing so quickly that stones and dirt flung up under the tyres before accelerating out of the tiny alcove and onto the main road.

Clary's mouth fell open.

She hadn't thought he was just going to leave her there.

"Fucking prick," she breathed out in disbelief. Anger fizzled through her veins as she stared after Jordan's BMW that was quickly speeding away, and when it took a turn as it wound it's way around the hills, the rear lights completely disappeared, and she was left completely alone, the guy on the bike had obviously left before Jordan had got back in the car. Her fury and indignation kept her warm for about a minute before it sunk in that she was out here alone, out of the city, in a tiny dress that really didn't hide much. "Motherfucker," Clary swallowed hard and opened her purse where her phone was. There was still some battery left, and she opened her contacts, hitting redial for her last call.

It rang and rang and rang until Simon's voice came through the speaker from his pre-recorded voice mail message. Clary grumbled under her breath. She pursed her lips together and tried another number, for Lydia Branwell, but that just went directly to voice mail without even ringing.

"Fuck!" She snapped and she couldn't resist the urge to stamp her foot, her heel digging in a bit more given the force and she was even angrier at Jordan for leaving her now. These shoes cost just over six hundred dollars and now she was going to need to get them professionally cleaned.

She'd make sure to send him the bill.

It was just after three now, and she really didn't know who else to call. She could try Jordan, but she was guessing that the ecstasy was probably hitting now and she wasn't going to get in a car with him.

Plus, her pride wouldn't allow her to call him either.

Clary was just about to risk a call for an uber, since she knew that a town car wouldn't come all the way out here, even though she hated the idea of getting into the back of a car with a driver she didn't know, she heard the rev of a motorcycle engine. She turned around and saw a bike coming back toward her. Clary's eyes widened, and a few various thoughts—none of them good—flashed through her mind. When the bike pulled over, Clary felt her breath catching in her throat, fear making her clench her hands into fists.

It was the biker, from before, the one who had just sold drugs to Jordan.

He was wearing a helmet, so in the dark night, even with the street light that was spotted near them, she couldn't see much of his face, other than a small curve of his lips.

"Need a ride?"

Hope you guys enjoyed it!