She Belongs to Me (Rewritten Version)

Chapter Six

Vincent:

This night could not have gone better than if I had orchestrated it myself.  The chemistry Emily and I shared was undeniable.  We both had an amazing time talking and getting to know each other.

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't want the evening to end.  There was only one other girl who looked into my eyes like that.

No.  I had to stop comparing them.  It wasn't fair to Emily, and it certainly wasn't fair to....her.

I drove back home and parked in the garage, staring at the Lincoln towncar with a smile. This piece of overpriced steel would be my ticket to becoming much closer to Emily, because I would know exactly where she was at all times.

I dug through my toolbox until I found what I was looking for; a tracker that my father kept hidden underneath my mother's car. I was relieved that I hadn't thrown it away with all of his other things.

Wait....was this wrong? I remember thinking that my father was a jerk for keeping constant watch of my mother. 'I want to make sure she doesn't run away from us, boy.' He'd said when I found out.

But this was different. I would be watching Emily to make sure she was safe, not to hold her hostage.

That was good enough for me.  I stuck the tracker underneath the car and went into the house, where I was greeted by my cat.  "Hello, Captain Harold."  I said with a chipper voice, stroking his back.

Captain Harold wandered to my doorstep about a month ago, starving and covered in blood and dirt. I didn't foresee myself as a pet person, since I wasn't allowed to have one as a child, but here we were.

I poured him a bowl of cat food. "You'll never in a million years guess what happened to me tonight."

His response was a soft purr.

"That's right.  I went on a date with Emily."

He meowed softly and kept eating his food. I knew he wasn't really listening to what I was saying, but talking to him made me feel a little less alone.

I changed into my pajamas and collapsed on to my bed, thinking of Emily until I drifted off sleep.  The next morning, I awakened with an excited twitch.  I hopped out of bed and fixed myself a few pancakes before driving to The Taco Hut, where Emily was eating breakfast with her two knucklehead friends.

She looked absolutely stunning this morning. Her golden brown hair was pulled back into a perfect bun, save for a small strand that danced across her face like a timid flame. She wore a tight red blouse that accentuated the curves underneath, beautifully complimented by a pair of black slacks and flats.

There was a pencil tucked behind her ear and a pair of thin, silver rimmed glasses on her face. She had the appearance of a conservative, but beautiful, school teacher. My heart practically leapt out of my chest as I pulled my phone out and snapped a photo.

I already had about twenty other pictures of her in my gallery, ones that I captured during some of her most candid moments. It would have been a crime for me not to get every piece of her life that I could.

Even though I was filled with pancakes, I walked to the counter and ordered myself a breakfast taco.  I paid the cashier and causally waltzed over to their table.  "Good morning," I said, sitting next to Emily without an invitation.  "So, we meet here again."