Chapter Twelve: Emma and Will

A/N: 100+ votes in one day? You guys rock. And waking up to comments on a new chapter is such a nice feeling (unlike waking up to your dad blaring Beyonce at eight A.M. why) so thanks to everyone who continuously leaves me comments. :D

Enjoy!

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Kidnap My Heart

Chapter 12: Emma and Will

Emma

Eric and Will left the next day to look for me again. Neither of them thought to look in the walls, as expected, and they went right back to assuming I was lost in the middle of nowhere. This really was the best hiding spot ever. I’d wanted to find a way to escape that very night, but after the shower fiasco, I wasn’t too keen on leaving the safety of my hiding place.

I waited until I was sure they were gone in the morning and took another shower, changing into some more oversized clothes right after. My search for food went pitifully horrible that day; they had almost nothing left to eat. Were they really so broke that they couldn’t afford enough food to make a sandwich? No wonder they’d resorted to kidnapping me. Something told me they wouldn’t be content if I gave them only enough money to go grocery shopping and told them to let me go, though.

After eating whatever I could find, I walked into the living room and glanced around. Now that I’d regained my energy and felt like a little more like myself, I saw things more clearly. I saw the phone on the table by the couch, and I saw the cord that connected it to a box on the wall.

Running over, I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, but all I heard was static. “Bastards didn’t pay the bill.” I shook my head. Why was I even surprised? If they didn’t have enough money for food, I doubted they had enough money for phone service. Or maybe they had it disconnected so Taylor and I wouldn’t try to call for help. It didn’t really matter why there was no service. The only thing that mattered was the fact that calling 911 was no longer a possibility unless one of them had a cell phone, and getting my hands on a cell phone wouldn’t be easy.

Maybe it was for the best. If I’d called 911 just then, that could have meant leaving behind Taylor, and that was something I just wasn’t willing to do. She’d gotten herself in this mess because of me. She’d been trying to help me, when really, all she did was make things ten times worse. But I couldn’t tell her that. She’d done what she thought was best. It was what I’d thought was idiotic, but it was what she’d considered best, and I loved her for even trying.

No, I couldn’t leave now. Not without my best friend. I’d sooner go back in that disgusting garage than abandon my best friend, knowing she was in the hands of these lunatics.

Escape might not have been an option, but wreaking havoc definitely was. I’d heard Will say he filled the gas tank completely this time—apparently, they had enough money for huge tubs of gasoline, but they didn’t have enough money for food—and that they’d search until it got dark. I wasn’t expecting company for a long while. I had plenty of time to cause mayhem and explore. The better I knew this place, the better my chances of escape and survival.

I kept getting ideas for Will’s haunting as I walked, but after some deliberation, I decided those tricks would work better at night. In the middle of the day, it just wasn’t as entertaining. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t have some fun, anyway.

While I was searching the kitchen cabinets for possible weapons, I found a giant roll of clear saran wrap. “This could be interesting,” I muttered, holding the roll up to my line of sight. A smile began to cross my lips. “Very interesting.”

I took the roll of saran wrap with me as I climbed upstairs and headed to Will’s room. It looked a lot like Eric’s room—plain walls, a few posters, and movies and video games scattered across the floor. Will’s posters were of half-naked women, unlike Eric’s. Eric’s were band and movie posters.

Will’s room was much messier than his brother’s, with clothes and multiple miscellaneous objects scattered all around the room. He had an average-sized flat screen mounted on the wall and a laptop sitting on his bed. “What do we have here?” I asked, setting the saran wrap on the bed. I really needed to stop talking to myself, but I couldn’t stop myself. Utter silence drove me nuts.

I plopped down on the bed, set the computer on my lap, and turned it on. It asked for a password after it finished the initial startup, and I frowned. If I were a 20-something year old misogynistic idiot, what would my password be?

“William Knight,” I said, speaking my guesses as I typed.

Incorrect password.

“123456.”

Incorrect password.

“Hmm.” I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as I thought. Remembering a joke I’d seen on Twitter once, I tried, “Mydick.”

Incorrect password.

If only the message would have said, Password too short. It would have made my entire life.

“Boobs.”

Incorrect password.

Damn. If I kept messing up, this thing would end up locking me out. “Password,” I tried, shaking my head. There was no way he was this stupid.

Welcome!

Except he was. It was a wonder how he still managed to surprise me.

I tried going on the internet first to try to contact someone, but there was no connection. I figured there wouldn’t be a connection since there was no phone service, but it was worth a try. I did have a good chuckle when I realized the only browser Will had was Internet Explorer, though. “Who uses internet explorer?” I snorted and shook my head.

“Let’s see what else we have here.” There may not have been internet, but I was sure I would be able to find something to entertain myself with. Will never disappointed.

Most of his folders could be summed up into a few categories: selfies, illegal music, and X rated movies. The multiple selfie folders made it clear Will thought he was the hottest thing to hit this earth since the asteroid that killed all of the dinosaurs, and the illegal music made it clear that he wasn’t the best at covering his tracks. He hadn’t bothered changing the names to something reminiscent of a legal album download. And the movies… well, the X rated movies just proved that he was a straight male.

When I clicked on his Microsoft Word files, however, I struck gold. I didn’t think I’d find anything interesting, maybe just some really old homework or essays, but what I found was so much better than that. I found a folder named, “Poetry.”

Oh, boy.

I chuckled. “This ought to be good.”

When I clicked on it, I found that the folder contained only one file, but that file was more than enough for me. Hell, one poem of his would have been more than enough for me, but he’d graced me with six.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

I don’t like poetry.

Fuck this doesn’t rhyme.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

Why even bother,

This still won’t fucking rhyme

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

I’m shit at poetry,

But great in bed

Roses are red,

Violets are blue

This is why I’m not romantic

I hate poetry.

I guess he’d attempted to write poetry for a girlfriend or something and failed epically. Oh, so very epically…

Roses are red,

Violets are blue

Poetry is hard,

And so is Vlad the Impaler.

He did not… He did not name his…

Roses are red,

Grass is greener

When I think of you

I play with my wiener.

My jaw dropped.

okay I give up

Yeah, this was the kind of thing that wasn’t meant to see the day of light. Like, ever. I had to say, though, I was kind of glad I’d found it. I hadn’t laughed so hard in ages. I really hoped he hadn’t sent this to whoever he’d written this for, because oh, my God, was it awful. Those last two would have gotten him dumped for sure.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” I muttered, closing out of everything and shutting the computer down. I didn’t need to see any more of what Will had on that thing. I’d seen enough for a lifetime.

I stood back up and set the computer on a nearby chair, surveying the bed and the closet. It was time for what I’d originally come up here to do.

First, I picked up all of the clothes Will had scattered on the floor and threw them on his bed. Well, most of the clothes. I wouldn’t have touched his boxers or whitey-tighties if you’d held a gun to my head. I didn’t know if they were clean or dirty, but I wasn’t about to find out. Those could stay where they were.

I then proceeded to empty out Will’s closet and drawers, piling everything onto his bed. He had a decent amount of clothes, so a few pieces of clothing kept falling off of the edge of the bed, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. If I’d tried to do this to Taylor or one of my parents, on the other hand, I would have definitely had a problem. Their closets were at least three times as big.

After everything was semi-neatly packed onto the bed, I busted out the saran wrap. I’d originally been planning on just wrapping his bed all over, but then I decided wrapping his clothes along with the bed would be funnier. Because why not?

I stuffed the edge of the saran wrap underneath his mattress and began the wrapping process. It took a lot longer than I’d thought, and it was a lot more exhausting than I’d originally imagined. The motion was repetitive and annoying, a fact that I was able to ignore by imagining the angry look on Will’s face when he discovered my latest trick.

Wrapping the bed wasn’t an easy task, sure, but unwrapping it wouldn’t be much easier for him. In fact, considering his size compared to mine, it could actually be harder. His large size could turn him into an awkward, bumbling fool when he tried to take this stuff off. And again, taking out his clothes had been a piece of cake for me, but putting them back would take him much longer. It was definitely worth it. Too bad I’d have to miss the show, but I wasn’t about to risk getting caught, especially not after this.

Emma: 3

Will: 2

***

Will

“Look, man, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t think there’s any point in continuing this search,” Eric said as we walked back to the car with Taylor. We’d just finished searching the only place that was within a one-hundred foot radius of our house, and there was no sign of Emma anywhere.

I stopped walking and looked over at him. “Yeah. You’re right. That isn’t what I want to hear.”

“Will—”

“Man, let’s be honest here. When Pops finds out she escaped, who’s gonna have to take the heat for it? You or me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Exactly. It’s gonna be me. Because I was the one who was supposed to be in charge of her, not you.” And because he hates my guts. “And even if you were to try to take the blame for it, he wouldn’t buy it because I’m always to blame, according to him.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“You know it is. You—” Having heard a quiet sniffling sound, I stopped abruptly.

Eric and I both looked over at Taylor. I gave her a slight frown, wondering what she was sniveling about, and Eric looked downright uneasy. When she realized we were looking at her, she straightened up, wiped away her tears, and tried to silence her sniffling, but it didn’t work too well. In fact, all it really did was make her sniffle even louder.

“What’s with you?” I asked.

She shook her head. It was a quick and frenzied movement, one I barely detected.

“What’s wrong?” Eric turned towards her with an overt frown on his face. “Are you hurt or something?”

Taylor shook her head again.

“I can’t do anything to help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

She shook her head and sighed quietly. “You can’t help me. You won’t.”

The look on his face turned serious. “You know I can’t let you go.”

“Which is why you can’t help me,” she mumbled.

“Is that what you’re crying about?” I asked. “Because we won’t let you go? I know this isn’t something you usually deal with, but I’m sure you’ve watched enough movies to know that isn’t how these things work. We can’t just let you go.”

She just shook her head again. Jesus, was this girl a mime or something? Was she capable of speaking?

“Then what?” Eric asked.

At first, I thought she was just going to be a brat and ignore our question, but eventually, she answered in a tiny voice. “She left. She left me behind, and I don’t even know if she’s okay...”

Eric’s face softened slightly, and I could actually feel mine doing so, too. I felt kind of bad for the girl, honestly. She was nothing like her nightmare of a best friend, and now she was all alone. Well, she had us, I guess, but kidnappers weren’t usually considered the best of company.

“Some best friend of yours.” I scoffed. “The going gets a little rough, and she gets going. Maybe you should start thinking of a new best friend when you get back home.”

“A little rough?” Eric shook his head. “You locked her in our garage and told her that was going to be her new home. What did you expect?”

“Are you saying this is my fault?”

“I’m sure as hell not saying it’s mine.”

“It’s not my fault she’s absolutely psychotic,” I exclaimed. “Are you forgetting what she did to me?”

Eric shrugged. “All I’m saying is that you provoked her. Everything she’s done has been a product of how you treated her. Her first escape, her giving you a black eye, her second escape—all a perfect example of cause and effect.”

His words sparked a bit of doubt in my mind, but I didn’t regret my actions. No, she deserved everything I’d done to her. And if I ever found her, she’d deserve what I planned on doing to her, too.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve got Sniffles over here, and she’s harmless. I’m the one who got stuck with Rage.”

Rage. I kind of liked that, actually. It suited her. Too bad I’d never get to use it on her.

He didn’t say anything for a while. “Alright, touché. I’ll give you that one.” He glanced over at Taylor right after he said it, but she barely even noticed. “Let’s just go home. It’s getting late.”

I nodded, silently climbing in the driver’s seat. Eric and Taylor followed my lead, and then we were off. The ride back home was entirely silent. No one was in the mood to talk. We were all either pissed off, or in Taylor’s case, still too busy sniffling to talk. Not that she was planning on talking anyway, I guess.

Eventually, we got back home, and I went straight upstairs. I was in no mood to deal with either of those two. A pity party was the only thing I was in the mood for.

My pity party turned into an anger party when I walked inside my room. My bed was completely wrapped with some clear plastic shit. When I walked closer, I saw it wasn’t just my bed that had been wrapped. It was my clothes, too—all of my clothes. Some motherfucker had wrapped all of my clothes onto my bed.

“What the hell?” I walked forward and tugged at the wrapping, but it wouldn’t budge. I’d need a sledge hammer to get this stuff off, and that would put my clothes at risk. “Eric!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Did you do this?”

I heard loud footsteps on the stairs, and a few seconds later, my brother’s head popped through the doorway, followed by Taylor. “Did I do what? Holy shit.”

“Did you do this?” I repeated, pointing one finger down at the bed.

“Of course not. When would I have time to do this? I was with you all day.”

“Then who else? Was it you?” I looked at Sniffles accusingly.

Her eyes widened, and she squeaked in reply.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eric said, answering for her. “She was with us all day.”

“Then who?” And then, it dawned on me. How had I not thought of it in the first place? “Emma. It was her. It was Rage. I swear it was her.”

Eric’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “That’s impossible. There’s no way she could have done this. We looked everywhere for her. She’s not here.”

“It was her,” I insisted. “I know it was. I don’t know how she managed to do this, but I know it was her.”

“How are you so sure?”

I glanced around the room in an attempt to discreetly find proof. I found my proof lying on the floor. “There.” I pointed at two pairs of boxers that were lying on the floor. “She didn’t strap those to the bed.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Do you really think Emma would touch my dirty underwear?” I didn’t let him answer. “No. No, she wouldn’t. Besides, who else could it be?” Even ghosts wouldn’t be this legit, and I doubted we had a ghostly prankster on our hands. No, this was the work of a certain brown-haired, green-eyed demon child. That I was sure of.

Finally, after a long stare down, my brother gave in. “I guess we can look a second time,” he said. “But if she’s really still here, and she’s managed to avoid us like this... well, let’s just say this isn’t going to be a pleasant experience for us. For you, actually.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Pretty, devious, and an evil genius? You don’t stand a chance, Will.”

***

Wattpad almost changed the rating of this to R because of the contents of Will's computer... I'm not sure why using Vlad the Impaler instead of the technical term for a man's private parts is deemed more appropriate, but hey, I don't make the rules.