Taking Her Home

Chapter 6-Taking Her Home

 Vincent pulled up and parked in front of Rebecca's apartment. He sighed thinking about the fact that she hadn't woken up the entire drive and he was more than likely, going to have to carry her the whole way to her apartment. He opened his door and ran around to the other side. Opening the door, he barely caught her head before it hit the sidewalk. He took a deep breath as he lifted her head up before picking her up bridal style. Kicking the door closed and cringing at the thought of seeing a dent in it when he came back down, he made his way towards the door of the building. He nodded his head to the doorman who opened and held the door for him with a confused smile. Probably the state she was in but the man didn't question him.

Vincent had to push the elevator button with his elbow as he adjusted Rebecca in his arms. She wasn't really that heavy looking but she was dead weight from drinking too much and Vincent would bet everything he owned that to Enzo who he was a thousand percent sure, had slipped something into her drink.

Stepping off the elevator on what he really hoped was her floor, he looked down at her and a thought that scared him ran through his head. "She's really beautiful when she sleeps." Stopping mid-step he shook his head as if that would erase the fact that he even thought it. "What is wrong with you Vince?" He asked himself out loud before continuing to her door.

He adjusted her in his arms again while he tried to unlock her apartment door. Walking in he looked around for the door to her bedroom, realizing that there was only a set of stairs that must lead to a loft where her bed was. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the couch and thought for a second that he could just leave her there, before shaking his head and climbing the stairs.

He laid her in her bed, shaking out his arms from carrying her for so long he wondered if he should change her clothes before thinking better of it. It had never taken advantage of a woman in this state and would never put himself in a position to be accused of doing so. He removed her heels though before pulling the blankets over her and tucking her in. He stood over her looking at her sleeping face for a second. He felt a smile spreading on his face, so he forced himself to quickly look away.

Running his hands through his hair and on his pants, he looked around. Walking to the two doors on the wall he looked in one to determine which was the bathroom and walked in. He walked to the medicine cabinet, opening it, he looked for some aspirin. Finding it, he poured three into his hand and put the bottle back. He walked back to the bedroom and laid them on her bedside table and looked around again. In his bedroom, he had a mini fridge that held water bottles. It came in handy since he had a tendency to either work up a thirst or wake up with a nasty hangover, sometimes both. Sighing, he determined that she didn't have one in her room and hoped that it was because she didn't participate in the same late-night activities that he did. "Get a hold of yourself," he growled out loud looking at her when he realized it was louder than intended. She didn't even stir. "Fucking, Enzo."

He turned to the stairs and walked to the kitchen that he remembered passing when he entered the apartment and looked in the fridge finding her a bottle of water. As he turned to head back upstairs, he noticed a notepad sitting on the counter. He scribbled her a note before heading back upstairs. He laid the note underneath the aspirin and the water bottle beside that. He then noticed her purse on the floor beside the bed and grabbed it. He had been raised by his mother to never go through a woman's purse, but in this day and age, women seemed to always be lost without their cell phones. Pulling hers out, he looked to the bedside table again for a charger. Finding it, he plugged it in and set it beside the other things he had left for her when she woke.

Feeling accomplished in doing the right thing, he switched off the lamp on the bedside table before he turned to leave. He had only reached the second step down when he heard her whimper in her sleep. He turned around and walked back to look at her and realized she may not like the dark. Walking over to the bathroom again, he switched the light on and closed the door to a crack. He couldn't sleep unless it was completely dark, but that didn't mean that she was like that. After all, she was a woman living on her own in a city full of men that weren't always very nice, like himself.