She Belongs to Me (Rewritten Version)

Chapter Twenty

Emily:

My entire body seemed numb as Vincent carried me back into the house.  When I chose to climb out the window, I knew I was taking a big risk.  But I was sick of sitting around like a helpless victim.

I wanted to do something that would show him I was serious about getting out of here, but as I was tossed to the couch like a bag of garbage, I knew I would have to do something much different.

He needed to trust me, and I needed his guard down.  I had to stop fighting him.

The only way I was going to make it out of here was to be nice to him, to make him think I was coming around to the idea of being with him, despite all the awful things he had done. It was my last hope.

I stared down at my exposed body. My skin was covered in scratches and dirt. My feet ached so badly from all the running I could hardly stand it. I would only get myself killed if I kept resisting.

Vincent went into his bedroom and returned with a black Pink Floyd shirt in his hand. "I'm sorry I have not been able to get you some new clothes yet," He said, tossing the shirt to me.  "Wear this."

"Thanks," I slipped the shirt on, relieved to have something covering my nakedness.  "Listen, I-"

"I have some of my sister's clothes in the basement somewhere.  I'll dig them out later and wash them."

"Vincent-"

"No, Emily.  Don't talk to me right now."

"But-"

He turned his back to me, lacing his hands behind him with a long sigh.  "You have got to stop trying to get away from me, love.  I'm sick of hurting you."

I pursed my lips together. There was no talking to him right now. He was still far too angry.

He stood there for the longest time before turning back around to face me. He kneeled down and ran his hand over the inside of my thigh, gazing into my eyes with remorse painted all over his face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," I whispered, looking away from him.

He cupped my cheek with a dirty hand, using his thumb to wipe away the stray tear that flowed from my eye. "I'm sorry, Emily. I lost my temper and did something I never should have done."

My eyes landed back on his, and I could see the raw honesty behind them.  He was sorry for what he had done to me, but that didn't help soften the pain and shame that I was feeling.  He stole something from me that I would never be able to get back.

My innocence.

I reached out to him with a trembling hand, resting it on the hand that cupped my face.  "You're right.  I should have never tried to run.  It was my fault."

"You don't mean that."

"I do mean it. I know you never intended for any of this to happen. Things between us just got-"

"Crazy."

"Yes."

He drew his hand back and raked his fingers through his hair.  "Where do you suppose we go from here?"

"We can start over, forget anything bad happened."

"Is this a trick?"