Kidnap My Heart

Chapter 3: Emma

After lunch ended, I dragged Taylor outside and headed towards my car. The concert didn’t start until eight, but we were meeting the band at six. I wanted to have plenty of time to get ready, and it was already past noon. I needed at least three hours to make sure I looked absolutely perfect.

“Emmy, where are we going?” Taylor asked, still letting herself be dragged.

“We’re skipping sixth and seventh period,” I said, ignoring the judgmental look Jack gave me. He’d caught up to us in about five seconds just by lengthening his stride a little. The perks of being six foot five.

“Why? Wait, let me guess! You got us a hot double date for tonight and we need time to get ready?  Oh, my gosh, don’t tell me it’s those cute twins that always visit the guy next door!”

I rolled my eyes. “I never told you to guess. This is why.”

She shot me a grin. “Okay, I’m listening. Tell me!”

“My dad got us last minute VIP tickets to Paramore’s sold out concert tonight.” I smiled smugly, fishing the tickets out of my bag and waving them in front of my face.

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Nuh-uh!”

“Would I lie to you?”

“Actually, you would,” she said, laughing as she climbed into the passenger seat of my car. I was going to protest, but even I had to acknowledge that was true.

Before climbing into the driver’s seat, I looked over at my bodyguard. “Jack, can you drive Taylor’s car over for us? She’s riding with me.” Taylor reached over and handed me her keys, and I threw them over to Jack. His quick reflexes were the only reason they didn’t hit him in the groin; I wasn’t much of an athlete.

“How did your dad get these tickets?” Taylor asked as we drove over to our apartment. “That concert was sold-out way before we even found about it.”

We usually didn’t have any problem getting VIP tickets to concerts, but getting VIP tickets to sold-out concerts was a different matter. “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “He’s my dad. He just got them.”

“Is there anything your dad can’t do? Holy crap.” She shook her head. “I’m so excited now! What time does it start?”

“It starts at eight, but we meet the band at six, and it’ll take around an hour to get there, so we should be ready before five.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll be ready by four!”

“Of course you will,” I said, pulling into our designated parking spot over at our apartment building. It was more like a permanent five-star hotel than an apartment building, really. It was located in the nicest part of the city, and the rent was ridiculously high. It was so worth it, though; our apartment was huge and gorgeous.

People always thought it was weird that Taylor and I had our own penthouse apartment, and I guess I saw where they were coming from, but it wasn’t like we never went home. We just stayed at our apartment when our parents didn’t come home or were away on business or something. Our houses were beautiful, huge, and lavishly decorated, sure, but they were downright depressing when they were empty. This apartment may not have been homely, exactly, but at least Taylor and I had each other when we were there.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” I said, setting my bag down on the couch the minute we walked through the door. Looking around, I realized Jack was nowhere to be found. “Where did Jack go?”

Taylor slowly pointed to the kitchen.

“He’s going to try to eat my chocolates again, isn’t he?” Taylor didn’t answer, and I let out an angry breath. Those were my special chocolates. My dad brought them back from his trip to Europe, and they were the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted in my life. There was no way I was going to let Jack take them from me.

When I sauntered into the kitchen, I saw Jack hunched over the counter, sneaking some of my chocolates. Why was I not surprised?

He was obviously aware I’d never fire him for stealing my food or being downright annoying. There was no way any of my other bodyguards would ever pull any of the crap Jack pulled. I had several bodyguards, but most of them were only needed for big events. Jack was the only one who accompanied me everywhere.

“What do you think you’re doing? Those are my European chocolates, you fat pig! We’ve gone over this!”

“You clearly learned nothing in Kindergarten,” Jack said, shoving one last chocolate in his mouth. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he added, “Sharing is caring.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know I don’t share or care. If I catch you stealing my food one more time, you’re getting an unpleasant surprise. You’ve been warned.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“No, you do not.” My imagination tended to get carried away. “All I can say is you won’t like this surprise.”

I shot him a look that was supposed to be threatening, but he just looked amused. “I’m sure I won’t,” he said, shoving yet another chocolate in his mouth.

I snatched the box out of his hands, shooting him a dirty look as I strode away. I headed to my room to hide the chocolates, and I could hear his laughter fade as I got further away.

After taking a shower, I walked past Taylor’s room, and I could actually hear her squeaking in frustration through the closed door. Her squeaks were that loud. I was going to ignore her, figuring it couldn’t be anything important, but when she started to scream for me, I found that a bit harder to ignore. “Emmy,” she yelled. “Come here! I need your help!”

I tried to walk away, but eventually her nasally screaming grew to be unbearable. “Emmy!” she whined. “Come on, Em, I need your help! Please!”

Heaving a loud sigh, I gave in and trudged into her room, adjusting my towel as I did so. “Yes?”

“I have nothing to wear,” she wailed. She was sitting on the floor in front of her closet, a frustrated look on her face. “I have nothing. Absolutely nothing!”

I made my way over to her closet and shuffled through it, examining every piece with a critical eye. I pulled out several adorable tops and dresses as options, but she dismissed each one. “These just will not work,” she exclaimed, shaking her head at each and every option I gave her.

After I’d had enough, I said, “Oh, screw you, then. Go naked for all I care!”

Her mouth dropped open and she huffed. I decided that would be a good moment to go to my room to get changed and did just that. I’d just finished changing into my bra and underwear when she barged in with a triumphant look on her face. “I picked an outfit!”

“That’s nice.”

“Now it’s your turn,” she sang, strutting over to my closet.

“I can pick my own outfit.”

“Yeah, but I want to help,” she said, and she began pulling out options. Just to get back at her, I dismissed each and every one with a ridiculous comment. I actually liked a few of the things she pulled out, but she’d made me stand there like an idiot for ten minutes. I was just returning the favor.

“Too bright.”

“Not bright enough!”

“Not slutty enough…”

“Too slutty. Ugh.”

“Too old-fashioned.”

“So last season.”

“What do you want me to look like, Chewbacca?”

“I’m not going to Antarctica, Taylor.”

“That looks like something my dad’s dog would wear…”

“And that looks like something my dad would wear.”

She lasted a lot longer than I thought she would, but finally, she got angry and stormed out, screaming, “You are impossible. I give up!”

“Thanks for nothing,” I called out to her retreating figure, laughing when she made some sort of frustrated, throaty noise.

I walked over to my closet when she was gone, picking an outfit out immediately. I’d already been considering outfit possibilities while I took a shower and had already made up my mind. I just wanted to make Taylor suffer.

It actually only took me an hour and a half to finish getting ready, which was much less than I’d expected. It usually took me at least three.

Taylor, who usually took even longer to get ready than I did, which was seriously saying something, was actually ready before me. That may have been because she was freakishly excited about this, but still. It was weird.

As soon as I strolled into the living room, Taylor clapped her hands together and squealed. “You look gorgeous, Em. Where was that dress when I was looking through your closet? I would’ve stolen it!”

I laughed, twirling and showing off my flowy dress. How had I never worn this dress before? It perfectly complimented this jacket, and it was so soft.

“Where’s Jack?” I asked, subtly steading myself once I’d stopped twirling. I guess I’d twirled a little too hard.  

“In the kitchen.”

“Of course he is. I’ll be right back.”

Jack was peering into the refrigerator when I walked into the kitchen, and he turned around when he saw me. “Are you ready to go, Em?” He’d stopped the formalities a long time ago, something that was more than evident by that point. The rest of my bodyguards only called me “Miss” but Jack usually went with “Em.”

 “Yeah, but I had something I wanted to ask you…”

He shut the refrigerator reluctantly. “I’m listening.”

“Could you, I don’t know… maybe let us on our own for this one?” I asked innocently, going for the puppy dog look.

I loved Jack; I really did. I gave him a lot of trouble and constantly pestered him, but he was like family. He was obviously around more than my dad was since he was basically my shadow, and after a while, an unbreakable attachment was formed.  That being said, I could’ve done without his clinginess. I knew he was just doing his job, but there were some moments where I wished I could go somewhere without having to bring him along. This was one of them. I wanted to have one independent night. Just one. Was that so much to ask?

“Not a chance,” he said, shooting me down before I’d had the chance to really start the guilt-inducing persuasion.

My face fell, and I bit the inside of my cheek to control my temper. He’s just doing his job, I reminded myself. I knew why he was saying no, but I still felt the need to ask. “Why? I’m eighteen, and Taylor turns eighteen in a week. We can take care of ourselves for one night.”

“It’s my obligation to protect you. This has been my obligation for six years now. I don’t know why you seem to think this is a new thing. You know why I can’t let you go off on your own.”

“I know it’s your obligation,” I replied calmly, “but this is just for one night. It’s not really your scene, anyway. Why don’t you take the night off?”

“None of the places you frequent are my scene. It’s not about me. It’s about you. I have to make sure you’re safe, and if that means never letting you out of my sight, then so be it.”

Neither Jack nor my dad had ever told me why security was so strict when it came to me, but it wasn’t hard to guess. My dad was loaded. A ransom for his only daughter would be ridiculously high, and he had plenty of enemies who would love to hurt him in any way they could. Did that mean I wanted to live my life in a cage? Of course not. Besides, it was one night. Nothing was going to happen.

“You’ve let me out of your sight plenty of times. You don’t follow me into the bathroom, for instance.”

He wasn’t taking me seriously by that point. He had that stupid half-smile on his face, the one he only used when he thought I was being inane. “I’m assuming you can go to the bathroom by yourself.”

“What a genius assumption on your part.” The look on my face was sour at best. “I don’t need you to be joined at my hip. You’re like a flea.”

He shrugged. “Then I’m a flea. So be it.”

His nonchalant attitude just made me more upset than I already was. “No, you know what? You’re like cancer. No, you’re like recurring cancer!”

“If you say so.”

I attempted to ditch him for five more minutes before finally admitting to myself that it was a lost cause. There was no way he was letting us go to this concert by ourselves.

“No go?” Taylor asked knowingly, raising an eyebrow at me when I came back.

“No go.”

She shot me an apologetic smile before standing up. “Well, come on. I’m sure the concert will cheer you up!” She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the front door. “Are we taking your car, mine, or the limo?”

“My car,” I said, wiggling out of her grip so I could walk by myself.

“I would feel more comfortable if we took the limo,” Jack said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“I am not taking the limo. It’s beyond ostentatious. Besides, I want to drive.”

He eyed me warily before giving in. “Okay. But I’ll still follow in my car.”

“Of course you will,” I muttered.

He gave me a reprimanding look before we each went our separate ways. I’d refused to take the limo partly because I thought it was too flashy, but it was mostly because I still planned on ditching him. My resolve to ditch Jack grew when we got on the road and he decided to drive right beside us in his giant black SUV.

“He’s such a creeper,” I complained, glancing over with disdain. Why couldn’t this be a narrow, two-way street? “Do you see this, Taylor? He’s right next to us. If he scratches my car, I’ll kill him.”

Taylor laughed. “I see it. It’s his job, though! Quit complaining, Emmy. Give him a break!”

“It’s creepy,” I insisted. I knew Taylor was right, but I was still annoyed because I hadn’t gotten my way, and I pretty much always got my way. This was not cool.

“Cheer up,” she exclaimed, shaking my arm. “We’re about to have an awesome time! Ignore the bodyguard and have fun. I mean, we get to meet Paramore! How cool is that?”

“Too cool,” I said, smiling over at her. “I just hope it goes better than the last concert we went to. Lady Gaga was just erratic. I thought Jack was going to run out of the room or pee his pants.”

“Oh, I know, and we only got half an hour with her! It was supposed to be an hour.”

“What did you expect?” I asked. “It’s Gaga. She’s beyond busy.”

Our conversation continued like this for a while. We’d been to a lot of concerts, and we had plenty to talk about, but I kept losing focus throughout the conversation. There was a car right behind us, and it had been there for a while. Actually, it had been there for at least half an hour, maybe more. What the hell?

Finally, I decided enough was enough and voiced my concern aloud. “Do you see that car right behind us? It’s been there for a while.”

“Um,” Taylor said, sticking her head out the window to get a better look.

 I smacked her arm violently, pulling her back inside. “Don’t be so obvious!”

“Sorry! I just don’t see what the big deal is.”

“I think that car has been following us.”

“Well, I think you’re being paranoid,” Taylor said. “They’re probably just going the same way. Maybe they’re going to the concert, too. I don’t know. Now quit being so paranoid and just have fun! You’re going to ruin this concert for us.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, but I didn’t think she was. That car didn’t look like it belonged to someone with VIP tickets to Paramore’s concert, and they didn’t let everyone else in until six-thirty. It just seemed shady, but I didn’t want to be the one to ruin this for us, so I kept quiet. I really shouldn’t have, but again, I wasn’t psychic. I didn’t have a premonition about what was going to happen, and even if had had one, I probably would’ve ignored it. Jack was with us. What could go wrong? 

***

Okay, so I have a few things to say!

1) Sorry it took me a bit to upload! I was just being lazy, to be honest. My bad.

2) I went over every pro and con about posting this story already. I know some of you are unhappy because you already know the ending, but a) I could very easily change the ending if I wanted to and b) what do you expect to happen, anyway? You guys know me by now. I'm a sucker for happy endings!

Half of the books we read are obvious when it comes to romance. We know the minute we pick it up that the people are going to end up together. The fun part is the getting there. You know it's going to happen, but you want to know how, when, why, all of that!

It's like.... it's like when I watch my Spanish soap operas! I know they're going to fall in love. I know someone is going to try to keep them apart. And I know they're going to end up together in the end. Do I still watch it? Yes. Do I still enjoy every minute of it? Yes. Do I still cry and laugh and scream? Yes.

So just keep in mind that I can't change the fact that you already know what's going to happen. If you want to keep reading, keep reading. If this is really so hard for you to accept, then don't read it. It's really that simple.

Besides, I write for myself, and this story is no exception. Is it cliche? Yes. Is it predictable? Possibly. Is it going to be a bit cheesy? Ohhhh yes. Am I still going to enjoy every second I write it? Of course! Because I love cliches. They're my guilty pleasure, and I believe books are about the journey, not the destination.

Anyhoo. Sorry for the rant. I rant a lot. I have a temper. :D

Okay, that's it. Vote/comment/fan/blah, you know.