Chapter Thirty: Will and Emma

A/N: So I go on my profile and I see that this story is #29 in humor and #32 in romance on the what's hot list. When did that happen?! Thanks to everyone who has voted and commented! Seriously, the last chapter got so many comments in such a short amount of time that I thought my phone was getting epilepsy. It was flashing that often. Totally made my day. You guys are the best!

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Kidnap My Heart

Chapter 30: Will and Emma

Will

I looked everywhere for Emma. I searched through every area of that goddamn store, but she was gone. She’d left without looking back and without saying goodbye. I wouldn’t have let her leave if she’d said goodbye to my face, but she could’ve left me a note. She could’ve left me a note that didn’t involve her bragging because she’d won the war we’d declared a few weeks ago. I guess some things never changed. I was an idiot for thinking I could change her. I was an idiot for thinking I could be with her.

I dejectedly walked back to Eric and Taylor. They’d stayed behind so Sniffles could explain what had happened to my brother. I wanted to hear it myself; the minute I got back, I started questioning her. “What happened?”

Taylor didn’t say anything. She just bit her lip and glanced at Eric.

“She didn’t say anything to you? You guys were in that dressing room for a long time. She just left the stall and never came back? She just left you behind?”

Taylor shook her head. “Of course not. She wanted me to come. She begged me to leave with her, but…”

“Then why didn’t you?” My tone was hard and unforgiving. Taylor didn’t deserve it, but I had to release the frustration I felt somehow.

Taylor went silent. It was only then that I noticed her hand. It was intertwined with Eric’s. “Oh, my God,” I said. “You chose the cat onesie.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she settled on a response. “How do you know about the cat onesie?”

“She used that metaphor on you?” I asked, and Taylor nodded.

It didn’t even matter. I mean, Emma could use that metaphor on Taylor and claim that was why she’d come up with in the first place all she wanted, but I knew better. She came up with it because of me. She had to have come up with it for me because she was wrong. Taylor didn’t care about designer dresses and heels and sparkly jewelry. Not like Emma did. Taylor didn’t care about seemingly perfect rich guys. She cared about my brother. And if Sniffles could put aside that part of her life for Eric and choose him, then maybe—no. I shook my head at myself. No, that wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore. I’d screwed that up the moment I kissed her.

Eric and Taylor were both looking at me, waiting for me to say something. “I thought—” I began, but I cut myself off. “Never mind.”

“What?” Taylor asked.

“For a moment, I thought maybe things could end differently since you chose the onesie. But Rage is gone. She left. There’s not even a Dolce and Gabbana dress or a diamond necklace to choose, but she chose it.”

“Versace.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “What?”

“It was a Versace dress.”

I shrugged. “Whatever. She still didn’t choose the onesie.” She would never choose the onesie. I would never be able to offer her the level of life she was used to.

I looked down at the bag I’d given to Eric to hold while I looked for Emma. It contained the stupid dress I’d bought for her while she was in the dressing room with Taylor— the white, strapless one she had walked by and liked. She didn’t buy a dress the day we went shopping, even though it was one of the arguments she’d used to get me to take her, and it was a nice dress. She would’ve looked gorgeous in it. But it would never be up to par, not considering what she was used to.

Taylor shot me what was supposed to be a comforting smile. Normally, I would’ve chuckled at how ridiculous she looked smiling in that disguise, but not that day. I wasn’t in the mood. “Onesies aren’t for everyone,” she said.

“No, I guess they’re not.” I had to learn that the hard way, and I hated the fact that I cared in the first place. I’d tried so hard to avoid relationships and avoid this feeling, but it was all for nothing. I hadn’t even been in a relationship with Rage, but I still felt emotionally fucked anyway.

***

Emma

I didn’t go home immediately. I knew the police would swoop in and question me not long after I did, and I wasn’t ready for that yet. What was I supposed to say when I came home without Taylor? I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. They would put her through major therapy if I told them she stayed because she fell in love with her kidnapper. Hell, I wouldn’t have blamed them. It sounded crazy even to me, and I had watched it happen.

After Will went back inside Wal-Mart, I left the shoe store and finally ran across the parking lot, heading towards the main road. I didn’t stop running, not even when I hit the sidewalk by the main road. I needed to put as much distance between us as possible. Not because I was scared he would come after me. He wouldn’t. It was because I was scared I would go back to him.

Since I was less than athletic, my running didn’t last very long. I didn’t run. I jogged, walked, and did Zumba, yoga, and Pilates, but I didn’t run. I slowed down to a walk not long after I hit the sidewalk, my breathing shaky and shallow. I did it. I escaped. I finally had my freedom back. So why didn’t I feel like a giant metaphorical weight had been lifted off of my shoulders?

I kept walking down the sidewalk for a while. I wasn’t really sure where I was, but I didn’t really care. I’d find a way to get home sooner or later. When I walked past a police station, I decided that would be the best way to get home. It took me a few minutes to pluck up the courage to go inside. The questioning would start as soon as I walked in there. Or maybe they would let me go home first.

After adjusting my beanie so it no longer concealed all of my hair, only the top of my head, I closed my eyes and nodded decidedly. It was time to go in and face everything and everyone.

I made my way over to the front desk and a man glanced up from his paperwork. “Can I help you, miss?”

I nodded and hoped my voice wouldn’t come out shaky or nervous when I spoke. “My name is Emma van der Bilt. I’m one of the girls who was kidnapped last month. I need to get ahold of my dad. I want to go home.”

Recognition crossed his face, and he shuffled through his papers and pulled out a missing poster. It had my face on it. The poster underneath had Taylor’s face on it. It made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. I knew she was happy over there, but I couldn’t help feeling I’d done the wrong thing by leaving her.

Wordlessly, he called the number on the poster and waited for my dad to pick up. When there was a click on the other end of the phone, my ears perked up and I took off my beanie. He’d answered. “Hello?” the officer said. “This is the California State Police Department. Who am I speaking to?”

There was a pause as the person on the other end answered his question. I figured it was my dad, but you never knew. Maybe it was his assistant.

The officer glanced up at me before speaking. “Your daughter is standing in our building right now. She walked in and asked if I could get ahold of you for her.”

It was my dad. My previous disposition faded as my heart swelled at the thought of speaking to my dad. I hadn’t seen or talked to him in almost a month. I missed him so much. Of course I’d made the right decision.

The officer handed the phone over to me, and I immediately reached over and grabbed it, frantically pressing it to my ear. “Daddy?” I asked.

“Emma? Oh, thank God,” he said, and the emotion in his voice made me want to cry. How had this become a choice? How could I have gotten so used to being at that house that I’d almost forgotten about my family, about my life?

This was my life. This was the life I led and would always lead. It wasn’t just about the money; it was about my family and those I loved and had been forced to leave behind.

“Please come get me,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “I miss you and Mom and Jack. I want to come home.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, and I believed him. I could hear him as he moved, and I heard an elevator beep. “Tell me you’re okay. Tell me they didn’t hurt you.”

I rapidly shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. Will would never hurt me, and I was convinced Eric wasn’t capable of hurting a fly—unless it hurt Taylor. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me if they did something, Emma. You can trust me. I’ll make them pay. Things won’t stay this way if they hurt a hair on your head.”

“I’m okay,” I repeated. “I’m okay.”

He stayed on the phone on his way to the police station. It turned out we were in my own city, just a different part of it. I lived in the upper end of the city, and Will and Eric had taken us to the lower end of the city. That explained why it seemed so unfamiliar to me. It took my dad about fifteen minutes to get to the police station, and the moment he walked through the door, I all but threw the phone at the police officer and ran over to him, throwing my arms around him.

The hug he gave me was so tight it was almost suffocating, but I didn’t care. I missed this. My mom followed, running through the doorway right after my dad. She threw her arms around the both of us, her heels clacking against the tile floor every time she moved even the tiniest bit. That sound and the smell of the perfume filled my senses, and its familiarity brought an overwhelming feeling of joy.

“Emma,” she cried, pulling away long enough to kiss my cheek. Tears were running down her face as she smiled widely. “My baby. Oh, thank you, Jesus. I was so scared. I was so scared,” she repeated, her shoulders shaking with her crying.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I said, sniffling loudly.

“I was so worried about you, Em,” my dad said, placing a kiss on the top of my head. His voice broke when he went on. “I thought I’d lost you.”

My mom hiccupped and choked out an agreement.

I’m sorry I waited so long to get away. That was what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “You didn’t lose me. I love you guys.” I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had a group hug like this, but I didn’t want them to ever let me go.

My dad squeezed me even tighter and lifted his left arm, wrapping it around my mom. “We love you, too, Princess.”

“Yes, we do,” my mom said, laughing between her tears.

I was home.

***

The entire ride home was spent worrying, mostly on my part. I was scared I wouldn’t see Jack when I got home. It occurred to me that he could have been fired for losing me, and the thought made me want to throw up. I didn’t want to ask my dad about it, though, because he’d finally stopped trying to ask me questions about the kidnapping and Taylor. Thanks to my mom’s insistence, he had decided to give me a day to relax and return to normality before the intense questioning started, and that question could’ve triggered some more intrusive questions.

When I walked through the front door to our mansion with my parents on either side of me, Jack immediately jumped up from his seat on the couch and smiled in relief. “Emma.”

The relief I felt mirrored his. Oh, thank God. My dad hadn’t fired him. It hadn’t been his fault, anyway. If Will and Eric hadn’t taken me at the rest stop, they would’ve taken me while Taylor and I were rocking out at the concert, surrounded by a sea of people. It would’ve happened eventually. And losing Jack would have been like losing a family member, or like losing a body part. For six years, he’d been my shadow—apart from the past month, of course.

I ran over to him and he threw his arms around me before I had the chance to do the same to him. “I’m so glad to see you,” I muttered into his ribs. He was really tall.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “If they did anything to you, anything at all, I’ll kill them. Me and your dad both.”

And here it went again. I was going to have to make up my mind about the story I was going with pretty soon. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”

Okay was a good way to put it. I was okay. I was happy to be back with my family, but without Taylor, I didn’t feel complete. I’d left my best friend behind. And Will. I’d left Will behind, but I didn’t even want to go there. That part of my life was officially in the past. All I had left of him was a strip of photos. I subconsciously reached down and touched the photos through my shirt. They were still there.

After everyone got all of the hugging and crying and squeezing out of the way, I was allowed to go up to my room to take a shower and change into some clean clothes that were actually mine. I was lucky I hadn’t been caught shoplifting the clothes I had on. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I had stolen them. Whatever; it was for a good cause. I needed to make sure I was unrecognizable to some degree.

I took the photo strip out of the waistband of my yoga pants and stared down at it. Those pictures were taken just two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime already. That moment felt so far away, not even these pictures could make it seem tangible. We both looked so… happy.

“I’ve never felt this happy. I thought clothes and shopping sprees and parties were the keys to happiness, but they’re not. He’s my key to happiness. And I think…”

“You think what?”

“I think Will could be your key to happiness.”

Taylor’s words replayed in my mind. Maybe I had just walked away from something bigger than myself, bigger than my love of material things. But it wasn’t like I could just go back. I couldn’t. I had family to think of; I’d made my choice.

Shaking my head, I turned the strip around to get it out of my sight. I made sure to hide it deep inside one of my drawers. I didn’t want anyone to find it and start asking questions I couldn’t answer.

I took a shower and changed before heading back downstairs. Wearing my own clothes felt weird. I was used to wearing either Will’s or the cheap clothes he’d bought me. For once in my life, something about my cute designer jeans and long-sleeved top didn’t feel quite right.

My parents were still there when I went back. They’d taken the afternoon off to spend some time with me now that I was back. Maybe things would be a little different after everything that had happened. Maybe they would start putting more effort into having family time set aside for the three of us—well, for the four of us. Jack wasn’t of our blood, but he may as well have been. He was always there, anyways.

There was a lot more hugging and squeezing and crying, and a lot of our house workers got in on the action. Their happy, relieved reactions upon seeing me made me feel guilty. I wasn’t always nice to them, yet there they were, showering me with affection, grateful for my well-being. I needed to reevaluate a lot of things in my life. I didn’t want to be the stuck-up rich bitch Will saw me as most of the time. I wanted to be that cool, chill girl who just so happened to have money and a smart mouth.

We had my favorite lasagna for dinner, followed by a mouth-watering apple pie. I normally would’ve been wary to eat as much as pie as I ingested that evening, but screw it. I’d just gotten home after being held hostage for a month. I deserved some pie, godammit.

After I grabbed my third piece of pie, Jack studied me carefully. “You don’t look hurt. You’re abnormally hungry, but you’re not hurt.”

I stuffed a piece of pie in my mouth to avoid talking, but it didn’t work. He just waited for me to swallow. “I told you I wasn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t treat you badly or anything?” my dad asked, setting his own fork down. “You’re sure you’re fine and not hiding any injuries? Or maybe there are some you haven’t noticed. We need to have the medic look you over. I’ll call him tomorrow and have him come.”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” I said. “They just wanted their ransom. They weren’t violent.”

They weren’t particularly nice at first, but they were never violent. Even when I made Will angry, he never turned violent. The day I’d arrived at their house, he had squeezed my arm a little too hard without realizing it, but that was the extent of the damage he’d done. I had a feeling if I’d told him about it, he would’ve started rambling and apologizing profusely for something he hadn’t even realize he’d done.

There were so many instances where he could’ve shown his true colors, but he didn’t have any—at least not the kind of colors you would imagine a kidnapper would have. Deep down, he was adorably sweet. He just had to let you see that part of him, and you just had to pay attention. You also had to stay long enough to really see it. Which I hadn’t done.

“The police will be here tomorrow to question you,” my dad said. “We haven’t asked about Taylor to avoid upsetting you, but they’ll ask.”

My face went pale when he said Taylor’s name. God, I was screwed. I still had no idea what I was going to say.

“You don’t have to answer any questions yet if you’re not ready,” my mom said, shooting my dad a look. “I’ll talk to them if I have to.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be ready tomorrow.”

***

A/N: Just a quick side note: Updates will not be as unnaturally quick as they were last month. Last month I was doing BeNoWriMo with this story (trying to write 50,000 words in a month), wasn't in track, and had like 10 snow days haha. This month is much busier so updates will be every 3-4 days.

On the bright side, the extra couple days of waiting create suspense. Eh? Eh? No? Okay.