A/N: I had a crazy busy week and was unable to write more than 300 words the entire week. It was awful. I just now had time to write, so sorry for the unusually long wait (which was actually only a week but whatever.)
So yeah. Well. It's past 1 AM and I haven't proofread this and I am barely keeping my eyes open right now and there's something about Nazis playing on TV (how long has this been on....) so if there are typos or strange things please ignore them. I'll fix them in the morning.
Otherwise, enjoy!
***
Kidnap My Heart
Chapter 37: Will and Emma
Will
We danced in the middle of the dining room for God knows how long; we lost track of the time. I was too wrapped up in the slightly-terrifying joy I felt when I had Emma in my arms. She fit in my arms so perfectly, like she belonged there. Like she was made for me—which she was. I was convinced of that. It explained why I’d never felt anything for any of the girls I’d dated or messed around with. They weren’t Rage.
There were some fast songs included in the mix CDs I made Eric play while Emma and I danced, songs I apparently “absolutely butchered” when I attempted to sing along to them. Emma told me she had “genuinely feared for her eardrums.”
Note to self: do not try to serenade Emma. She will run.
Overall, my attempt to recreate the spring dance Emma had missed while she was over here—this piece of information was courtesy of Sniffles—went really well. There were a few missteps, sure, like the music at the beginning and my lack of dancing skills, but I didn’t think those really made a difference. They’d just made her laugh, and that was never a bad thing. A big part of being the cat onesie was making her feel comfortable and happy and making her laugh, and that was what I planned to do for the rest of our lives, assuming she let me.
Some of the highlights of the night wouldn’t have happened had I not added those faster songs. Like I’d said before, I wasn’t much of a dancer, but that sure as hell didn’t stop me from trying. I thought Emma was going to bust a lung when I tried doing the Bernie—in my defense, Emma was a shitty teacher—and basically looked like I was being electrocuted, and when I followed in Emma’s footsteps and tried twerking on the wall... well, let’s just say I wasn’t sure how she was still breathing—and not just because of her laughter. I almost crushed her when I fell down.
Hey, she moved out of the way in time.
Eventually, Eric ran out of music to play, and Emma and I decided to just call it a night. She was pretty tired by the end of the night. The last few songs were all fast ones, and dancing was probably more physical exertion than she was used to, what-with her yoga and Pilates workouts. I mean, what the fuck was Pilates?
“You’re all sweaty,” Emma complained as I wrapped an arm around her and led her back up the stairs to my room.
“You are, too, but you don’t see me complaining,” I said, pulling her in even closer just to spite her. I loved riling her up.
She looked at me in disdain. “Not as sweaty as you. Sweating isn’t in my genes.”
I shrugged. “That’s why showers were invented. And you know, showering together would really preserve water—”
She elbowed me in the side. “Are you ever going to stop suggesting that?”
“That depends. Are you ever gonna say yes?”
“No.” She hesitated and then glanced over at me with a smirk. “Well, not yet.”
I swear, honest to God, I almost fell down the stairs when she said that. I wasn’t expecting that from her at all. Imagine the injuries I would have accidentally given myself if she had actually said yes outright. “You never fail to surprise me,” I commented with a chuckle.
“It’s a gift.” We walked inside my room and she ducked out of my arms, turning around to face me. “Who’s showering first?”
“Rock, Paper, Scissors?” I asked.
Her lips twitched, and she held out one of her hands, balling the other into a fist and placing it on top of her outstretched hand. “Deal.”
I followed suit and we simultaneously chanted, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”
She had paper; I had rock. Damn it. Why the fuck did paper beat rock, anyways? That was just bullshit. What was the paper supposed to do, suffocate the rock? A rock could easily beat the shit out of a flimsy piece of notebook paper.
“Best two out of three?” I tried. I wasn’t going to try the paper vs. rock argument. I had a feeling I wouldn’t win if Rage was involved.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
And once again, I lost. She had scissors; I had paper.
“Again,” I demanded. I didn’t lose. Well, I didn’t like losing.
Another loss. She had rock; I had scissors.
“One more,” I said, readying my hands once again.
“Will, you lost. Just let me go take a shower.”
“Just one more and we’re done,” I said, fully intending to go until I won. Hopefully it would just take one more turn. Hopefully.
It didn’t take just one more turn. It took another five until finally—halle-freaking-lujah—she had rock and I had paper.
I whooped loudly. “How you like them apples? Time for my shower.”
Emma gave me a look. Clearly she was not the supportive type. “You lost eight times and won once. That doesn’t even count.”
“It counts.” Although I guess it wouldn’t kill me to do the chivalrous thing and let her take a shower first. That was the kind of things guys did for their girls, right?
She shook her head like she’d finally given up on me, and we were both alarmed by the ringing of the Nokia phone I kept hidden in my room. I guess I’d forgotten to put it on silent when I re-hid it in this new room.
“Is that a phone?” she asked incredulously.
I cursed internally and ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t want there to be secrets between us, but that phone was something I had to keep from her. If she tried to escape again, I wasn’t sure how my dad would react. He was relentless. He wouldn’t rest until he got his hands on her dad’s money, and I wouldn’t rest until I knew she was safe at home. Not just at home.
“Give me a second,” I said after a few more seconds, making my way over to the drawer I kept the phone in. I answered on the sixth ring. “Hello?”
“Why isn’t your brother answering his phone?” my dad demanded.
“I don’t know. He’s probably with Taylor. Why?” I glanced over at Emma. She was staring intently at me, probably trying to hear what my dad was saying. He was pretty loud by nature, so I figured she could hear everything he was saying. I could have walked out of the room, but I didn’t want her to get suspicious over nothing, either. I decided it was in my best interest to stay put.
“We’re pushing for ransom on Sunday. We’ll figure out where to go from there once we release them. There are a few ways to get you guys back into their lives that could potentially end in marriage. You’ve already planted the seed, anyhow. Tell your brother to give me a call. I need to talk to him.”
“Dad, we’ll talk about this later,” I said. I wasn’t going to discuss my dad’s plans in front of Emma, and I wasn’t sure what he was up to. Where was he and what was he doing? Whatever it was, it had something to do with this kidnapping and his plans for the future. “And don’t think this is me agreeing to your twisted plans.”
He didn’t reply; he just hung up on me without saying another word.
I let out a loud breath through my nostrils and shook my head. How the hell were we going to get him off of our backs? I wanted a life with Emma; not Emma’s money.
I glanced back at Emma and set the phone aside. “How much did you hear?”
“Most of it.” The look on her face made me cringe. She was getting the wrong idea. “Tell me this isn’t about my money.”
I shook my head immediately and moved closer to her. I cupped her face in my hands and looked down at her. “God, no. This is about you and me. When I say I want all of you, I don’t mean material possessions. I mean you. Your money isn’t what makes you the girl I love. I don’t want a dime from you, and I won’t take one. I want you. Body, heart, mind and soul.”
She looked at me for a few more seconds, and they were the longest seconds of my life. Finally, she leaned up, standing on the tips of her toes to reach me, and softly kissed me, just once. It was the only answer I needed.
“You’ll have to settle for two out of four for now,” she said.
“Which two are you referring to, and why can’t I have the other two?” I knew the reason she was going to give for one of those, but I still wanted to hear her answer.
“Well, you already have my heart,” she said, keeping her face close to mine. The corners of her lips were turned up in a smile, and I could feel mine mirroring hers the second I noticed them. “You know that by now. And you’re always on my mind, so I guess you have that, too. Wanting my soul sounds a little satanic, so I don’t know about that one. And the first one… well, you’ll just have to wait for that one.”
I chuckled, and she grinned and kissed me again. She was worth the wait. She was worth all of the waiting in the world. That I was sure of.
***
Emma
Will did end up letting me take a shower first. He was still my bitch. He would argue with you if you mentioned this, of course, but it was a fact.
He got in the shower after me, and I used the time to my advantage. I pulled the crafting materials back out—I hadn’t done a very good job of pushing them under the bed, but they looked untouched and Will wasn’t the brightest, anyways—and got back to work. I’d probably have to work on his gift while he was asleep. Will’s birthday was on Sunday, and I didn’t plan on sticking around that long, anyway. Not when I knew there was a phone at my disposal.
I was almost done with the actual list of things I loved about Will, although I still needed to copy them onto single pieces of paper and stick them on each card. Then I had to make it look good. I wondered if they had any glitter around… too bad Will probably wasn’t a big fan of glitter.
I found myself speaking aloud as I wrote. “Forty-five. I love how you held my hand in public when I looked like a hippie dude.”
Will had had it right all along, even back then. He’d been able to see past what I had never able to disregard: the judgment of others. He didn’t care about what other people thought, and he didn’t feel the need to maintain a reputation. He hadn’t cared about the weird looks people gave us because he knew there was more to me than met the eye, especially that day—a lot more. Like a different gender, for instance.
If he could accept me as a hippie dude and hold my hand when I looked like a guy, I could accept him as my cat onesie—my hilarious and adorable cat onesie. Both in private and in front of my parents and friends. Screw them and their standards. Screw what they thought. There was more to life than money and prestige.
The opening of the door almost made me fall off of the bed in alarm. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t the bathroom door, and Charles wasn’t home. It could only be Eric or Taylor. This time, it was actually Eric, and he came sans Taylor for once.
I looked up and not-so-subtly shoved a pillow on top of my work. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He paused in the doorway. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
That question usually led to a conversation I didn’t want to have, but I was curious. Eric and I didn’t talk in private very much. We mostly just talked when we were with Will and Taylor. It was always a group setting. “Sure,” I said, shrugging.
He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, right in front of me, and I instinctively moved my materials closer to me. He didn’t talk right off the bat; we sat in silence for a good twenty seconds before Eric found the words he was looking for. “I just—” He paused again. This was going to be awkward. “Will’s my brother. He’s my only brother. Sometimes it feels like he’s my only family. More than that, he’s my best friend. There’s no one in this world who knows me better than he does. There’s no one in this world who knows him better than I do.”
I nodded. “I know. You guys are really close. He’s lucky to have you. But why are you telling me this?”
“I’ve been watching you and Will for the past few days, and… I don’t know. I can tell that you have feelings for him, but that’s not enough for some people. Taylor thinks it’ll be enough for you, but she always looks on the positive side of things. I look on the negative side. I can’t help but question this.”
Because Will was poor and I was rich; because Will couldn’t care less about what people thought of him, and I couldn’t care more. But that was going to change. I would make sure it changed.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he went on. “I’m happy that he’s happy. I’ve never seen him this way. I’ve never had to DJ a dance for him and his girl, either. I just want to see where you stand. I already know where he stands.”
The replies I wanted to give got stuck in my throat, and I swallowed hard. I felt like I was being interview by the in-laws, which I kind of was, I guess. I wanted to tell Eric he had nothing to worry about because I was idiotically in love with his brother, but the words weren’t coming out. For once in my life, I felt socially awkward.
Eric waited for a reply, and when it didn’t come, he continued like I had. “He’s in love with you. He used to hate the L word, but now he says it casually. You’ve changed him. In a good way.”
Serious Eric made me nervous; I preferred Sarcastic Eric. Serious Eric ventured subjects that made me choke. Will was changing me, too; so why couldn’t I just say it out loud? What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I acting so awkward?
Finally, I managed to say, “I know.”
Of course. Of course I would give the classic bitch reply. I know. That was the reply you used to friend-zone guys, and Will was anything but friend-zoned.
Eric let out a quiet chuckle and I glanced up in alarm. He wasn’t looking at me, though; he was looking at the wall. “You know, I’ve always been the one who had to be in a relationship. When I found someone, I wanted it to last forever. That’s still true. I date to marry. Will was the one who wanted flings. He didn’t want it to mean anything, and he didn’t want commitment.”
The words were like a slap to the face. They hit me like a bucket of cold water had been splashed all over me, drenching me from head to toe. What if that was still true? What if Will’s old ways came back to bite us in the ass?
It was like Eric could see the doubt cross my face. It definitely explained why he chose to say what he said next. “Will was the one who would pick me up when I was down and help me get past my heartbreaks. I don’t want to have to do the same for him. I don’t want to see him to get hurt.”
I began to feel the overwhelming urge to cry. It wasn’t something I liked to think about, but I knew I was going to have to hurt Will to get out of this mess. I had to do something about Charles, but I was going to end up hurting Will in the process. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but the alternative wasn’t much better. It wasn’t like I could just sit back and let Charles take over my life like he was clearly planning on doing. That short conversation over the phone had changed everything. It wasn’t like Charles would just disappear once this was over. That wasn’t in his agenda. Becoming a sitting duck wasn’t in mine. I just hoped Will would understand my choice and keep his promise about fighting for this.
Instead of answering and essentially lying to Eric’s face, I moved the pillow and held up a few of the cards. “Will told me his birthday is on Sunday, and—”
Eric regarded the cards in my hands with a curious gaze. “You’re making him something for his birthday?”
I nodded, slightly embarrassed all of a sudden. This was Will’s brother, after all, not Taylor. Saying it in front of him was different. “I saw it on Pinterest and thought it was sweet. 52 cards. 52 things I love about Will.”
Half of Eric’s mouth was turned up into a smile. “You love him.”
He had no idea. “So much, it terrifies me.”
“Don’t be scared. Love isn’t as scary as it seems,” he said. I begged to differ. Giving someone your heart and trusting them not to break it was pretty scary. “And if it’s still scary to you, I guarantee it’s worth it.”
“Are you basing this off of your relationship with Taylor or past experiences?” I asked. It was time to put Eric in the hot spot. I’d had enough for one day.
The moment I asked the question, his demeanor completely changed. It was like he was a different person. He went from being serious, protective brother Eric to love-struck Eric. I was glad to see Taylor was putting it all on the line for someone who was worth it. “Everything I say is because of Taylor. There’s just something about her. She got under my skin, you know? I’ve always been the relationship guy, but there’s something about this relationship that’s so different, I feel like I’m out of my element. Maybe it’s because we met in the worst of ways, or maybe it’s because we were thrown together all of a sudden and had to learn how to live together and make it work. Whatever it was, I never stood a chance. She’s beautiful, understanding, caring, and full of life. She’s the love of my life.”
I couldn’t help but smile as he talked. There weren’t many feelings in the world that could surpass the happiness I felt for my best friend. I liked knowing I had left Taylor in good hands. I’d been right to trust Eric, and for that I was glad.
Still, I had to give him the same talk he gave me—just shortened and full of joking passive aggressiveness. Well, I was mostly joking. “I still have to warn you, though. If you break my best friend’s heart, I’ll break your face, your arm, and your will to live.”
Eric’s incredulous laughter filled the room. “Yeah, okay.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Need I remind you of the time I knocked you out with one punch to the face?”
His laughter faded. “That was a lucky shot.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sniffer.”
“I sniffed the wall one time. One time. Are you ever going to let that go?”
I snorted. “Never.” A thought hit me, and I found myself saying it out loud. “How about we compromise? We both agree not to break our person’s heart”—I wasn’t sure how else to put it at that moment—“and if we do break it, we both agree to do whatever it takes to fix things and grovel for the rest of our lives. If the groveling isn’t sufficient, we bring in the big guns.”
“I’m not hitting a girl,” Eric exclaimed.
“Fine. Then I’ll just hit you.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Life’s not fair, Sniffer. Deal?” I held out a hand.
He looked at my hand before shrugging. “I won’t hit you, but I’ll make you eat one of those pit PB&J sandwiches I had to eat. Deal.” And then he shook my hand before I had a chance to protest.
Sneaky bastard.
***
Eric had already left by the time Will got out of the shower, and I had already put his gift away. Will had vaguely heard voices, but that was it. I summarized our conversation into, “He warned me not to hurt you; I threatened to break his face if he hurt Taylor. The end.” Luckily, Will just chuckled and accepted this summary.
We went to bed right after this, although we stayed up a while to talk, as usual. Some of the best talks we’d ever had we’d had late at night as he held me against his body and played with my hair. I was going to miss this. I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to fall asleep without him by my side.
For the next two days, I let myself wholeheartedly enjoy Will’s company. I knew what I was going to do about Charles by the time I fell asleep at the end of our date night, and I knew there was a chance Will wouldn’t take it well. I couldn’t change what I was going to do because I was determined to put a stop to Charles, but I could change the aftermath of my actions. By letting myself openly love Will, I was hopefully giving him something to hold onto when everything exploded and he wasn’t sure what to make of things. My gift was the one tangible thing he would be able to literally hold onto. It was what pushed me to finish it in time, even if it meant getting up in the middle of the night to work on it.
On Saturday morning, I woke up with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. It could have been a premonition, I guess, but I was probably just nervous. If I hadn’t had a premonition the day I got kidnapped, I doubted I’d had a premonition the day I planned to go home again.
Will noticed something wasn’t right as soon as I rolled over to look at him. It was crazy how he could immediately tell. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I just have a stomachache.”
He tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind my hair. “My mom showed me how to make the best soup for stomachaches. Eric was a pansy when we were kids. We made it a lot. I’ll go make some for you and bring it up. Be right back.” He kissed me on the forehead before rolling out of bed and heading downstairs.
I waited a few seconds before I got up and began to search for Will’s cell phone. I was guessing it was strictly being used for this situation because it looked like a piece of crap. When I found it in the bottom of one of Will’s drawers, I confirmed this. It was a tiny Nokia phone.
After wiping the phone on my shirt to get rid of Will’s fingerprints, I checked the battery. Will hadn’t turned it off after using it a few days ago, but it still had 80% battery. Why couldn’t iPhones be like this?
The phone was in my pocket and I was in bed by the time Will came back upstairs with one of those portable bed-tables and a bowl of soup. I felt bad that he’d gone to the trouble of making it for my “stomachache,” but I couldn’t tell him the truth.
“How are you feeling?” Will asked, setting the table up on my lap and placing the bowl of soup on top of it.
“Better now that you’re here.” This wasn’t a lie. I did feel better having him close. The curtains would rise soon, but I wanted to cherish every moment I had left with Will, just in case I ruined it with one phone call.
He just grinned and settled down on the bed next to me. He had a package of Pop-Tarts in his hand.
“That’s your breakfast?” I asked.
“Hey, this has… some nutrients.” He’d tried reading the back to tell me what these “nutrients” were, but clearly he hadn’t found many worth naming. “Two grams of protein. There’s that.”
I shook my head and sarcastically replied, “How nutritious. You’re going to grow big and strong with those two grams of protein.”
“I’m already big and strong,” he commented with a smug smirk.
“You’re also modest and observant.”
He chuckled and took a giant bite of his Pop-Tart. It was the kind of packaged garbage I used to avoid, but that was because I hadn’t tasted most of it and had just read the nutrition facts. Lack of nutrients aside, this packaged garbage was delicious. I still preferred fresh fruits and liked making healthy choices, but I could appreciate a good Pop-Tart. I could even appreciate a good pack of Cheez-Its. Jack would be so proud—and unhappy that he’d have to share his food.
Once we’d finished eating, Will said, “My dad wants to talk to me and Eric. He wanted to talk when I went downstairs, but I told him I was busy. I’m guessing it’s gonna be the same thing he’s been going on about for days, but I don’t know. I can send Taylor up here to keep you company if you want.”
That was actually wonderfully convenient. I needed to talk to Taylor, anyways. This plan wouldn’t work if I didn’t have her on board. “Yeah, that’s fine. Go ahead.”
“I don’t think this will take long,” he said, standing up. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” I said. He had just turned around when my hand shot up and I exclaimed, “Wait.”
He turned back around, and I flew out of bed and basically pounced on him. Well, not pounced, exactly, but I certainly jumped on him and threw my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my level so I could kiss him. Our lips crashed together, and I immediately parted his mouth with the tip of my tongue to deepen the kiss. This wasn’t goodbye, but if it somehow was, I wanted to make it count. I wanted that kiss to be the most passionate one we’d ever had; I wanted that kiss to transmit everything I felt for him.
His mouth moved just as hungrily as mine did, but for different reasons, of course. He didn’t see it as a potential goodbye. I didn’t want it to be a goodbye, but I didn’t want to walk out of this house without kissing him with all I had.
We finally pulled away for air—we’d basically stopped breathing for a while, too focused on devouring the other’s face—and he pressed his forehead against mine, breathing heavily. “Holy shit. What was that for?”
“I wanted to kiss you,” I said.
“Well, you should kiss me like that more often.”
“I reward sweet gestures. Keep that in mind.”
“Noted. I’ll think of another grand gesture while I’m downstairs.”
“You do that.” By the time he got upstairs, though, there wouldn’t be enough time to put that idea into motion, much less get a reward.
His lips twitched upwards, and with that, he pulled back and headed towards the door again. Just before he left, I called out, “I love you, Will.”
He stopped in the doorway and turned. “I love you too, Rage.”