Married to Gangster

One

The air in California was unbearably hot. Everyone wore shorts and a tank top. The heat nearly suffocated me. I wiped a bead of sweat off of my forehead as I made my way to the female dorms.

Out of nowhere I was attacked by one of my best friends, Kayla Harrison.

Kayla Harrison was a tall brunette with thick short hair that she cut a fringe into four weeks ago. When we were younger, we were always mistaken for sisters. We were basically inseparable, even though I found Kayla pretty obnoxious most of the time.

"Watch where you are going, weirdo!" I jokingly scolds.

Kayla was easily described as a ditz. Kayla had a frequent issue of bumping into everyone and sometimes being way too aggressive.

"Sorry, I'm sorry! But I just finished my last final and I am so ready to hit the beach for the next two weeks." Kayla beams.

"Kayla, you live on the beach. Visiting the beach is nothing new." I say dismissively.

Kayla pouts, "This time it's different."

"Please," I smile, "Enlighten me."

"We are in college, Ellie. We can do things we haven't been able to do."

I smile at my best friend, "What can we do now that we didn't do a year ago? Let me check, under aged drinking? Check! Random make-outs with strangers," I hold out my fingers as if I was counting, "Did that!"

Kayla pouts at me, "Who knew you college would make you boring?"

"I am certainly not boring, I describe it as bored." I said.

I wasn't too thrilled to look back on my teenage years. It was a nightmare of terrible mistakes, and all of those mistakes start and end with the name Wyatt Colt.

"Well that's not what I say." Kayla says.

"You know that I am not like that anymore. Why do you insist that I go back to that?" I snaps.

"Slow your roll, wildcat. I was just teasing. I know you prefer to stay locked up in your dorm all break. I don't knock you for it. Just know that you will be alone doing so." Kayla says.

"I am very aware of that." I grumble, "Don't you have some tail to be chasing?" I ask.

"Well, I am still chasing after Alyssa, but she doesn't seem interested in girls." Kayla pouts.

"Or maybe she is just not interested in you." I smile.

"Okay, harsh." Kayla says, "Anyways, I think that I have better chances with Marty. She seems more bi-curious."

"Good luck with that." I mutter, completely uninterested.

"What about you? Any love interests?" Kayla asked.

My only response was an eye roll.

"Oh come on, Ellie. You can't live in fear of a guy like Wyatt for the rest of your life. That was a year ago, don't you think it's about that time to move on?" Kayla asks.

Wyatt Colt was a soft nerve for me. I had met him when I was newly eighteen. Wyatt was four years older than me, and everything a good boy was supposed to be.

Wyatt was a graduate from Stanford University. I had always been an erratic teen. My life at home wasn't the least bit stable, I found herself drinking every weekend and making out with random guys.

When I met Wyatt, I discovered that partying wasn't all there was to life. We had hit it off immediately. Wyatt seemed like the perfect person. Eventually, that was proved false when Wyatt begin to mirror my father.

By month two, Wyatt was emotionally abusive to me. Wyatt wanted something that I wasn't exactly ready to give him.

My virginity.

Wyatt proceeded to call me all types of slurs, forcing s****l acts on me. Those of which, I never told anyone about. The first time Wyatt tried to force me to have s*x with him, I knocked him out and never spoke to him again.

The lie my friends believed was that Wyatt cheated. That's how I wanted to keep it. I refused to answer any of Wyatt's pleas; I cut contact off with him permanently.

After a few months, I never got a call from Wyatt again.

What I didn't need was Kayla harassing me about finding a new man to be with. I didn't want anything to do with a relationship for a very long while.

My life took a 360, I focused more on school and absolutely shunned alcohol. My life seemed a thousand times better as of lately.

"My disposition to partying has nothing to do with Wyatt. I drunk enough when I was younger to make up for my college years, I am fine." I grumble.

"Okay, okay."

"I have to go pack my room up for the semester, I am going home for break." I say.

"What? You hate it there, why?" Kayla asked as we entered the air-conditioned dorm.

I breathed a sigh of relief at the new change in temperature. "It's not a choice."

"Not a choice? You're nineteen, honey." Kayla said as we climbed up the stairs.

"Parents pay for my tuition, if I want to truly get away, I have to graduate. I can't afford UCLA from my pocket." I explain.

"So you're still under mommy and daddy's thumb." Kayla confirms.

"Until 2019." I mumbled, "Besides, they are requesting me."

"For?"

"I am not sure, but they're sending me a driver." I say.

"Fancy." Kayla murmured.

"Well you have fun with that, I guess I'll see you when you get back." Kayla says, standing outside of her dorm.

"Why then?" I asked.

"Keith is throwing a party, me and Jenny are going." Kayla says, "I would ask if you wanted to join, but that would be at risk of my eardrums."

I laugh, "Go ahead, I have packing to accomplish. I will be fine."

"Okay, see you whenever you get back." Kayla says, walking into her room.

I walked four doors down and opened my dorm door. The dorm was completely empty. Eleanor's my roommate, Luna Washington, was a party animal. Luna was hardly ever in their room, but I didn't mind because Luna was a very loud girl.

I grabbed a bag and pulled open her drawers, absently grabbing shirts and shorts. I didn't live too far away from home. My parents home resided in Temecula, California.

As I through underwear and toiletries into the bag, I wondered about what my parents wanted from me.

They were extremely overbearing over, but not out of the normal reasons of parents. My father was a man who was working his way up the political ladder. He was working for the senator of California and it seemed as though he had a real chance of breaking from behind his shadow.

I had feared my father since I was seven years old. My father wasn't the overtly abusive man. If you did things correctly, he was the greatest man ever; it was when you do wrong you had to suffer.

I loved her father. In a way, I looked for him in other men. That is why I shunned dating.

The door of the dorm bursting open disturbed my negative thoughts. Luna walked in; her pixie cut hair flopped all over her face as she scrambled through her drawers.

I watched her silently as she grabbed a nail and a hammer and turned to exit the room. Just before Luna exited, she caught sight of me.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you'd be here." Luna smiled, "Are you leaving?" she looked pointedly at my bags.

"Just for the weekend, maybe." I said, "What the hammer for?"

"We are playing a prank on one of the guys, we are going to nail his room shut. Want to come see?" Luna questioned.

"No, thanks. I'm leaving soon." I replied vaguely.

Luna shrugged, "Your lost." Luna exited the room.

"Everything nowadays seems to be at my loss." I murmured to herself.

My iPhone dinged an alert; it was my mother's number:

From: Mom

The driver called, he told me he is outside. Please hurry.

Short and clip was how all of my text from her mother went. There never was emotion. I saw that as expected from my mom.

For some reason, my dysfunctional family worked for me. It was what I was raised on. I didn't see my family as abnormal until I had began grade school.

I typed a reply to her mother:

I'm going. Thanks mom.

I grabbed my black duffle bag and threw it over my shoulder. Walking briskly I looked around for a car in the driving lot. As I stood there in question a man walked up to me.

"Eleanor?" a man with a thick accent questioned.

"Who's asking?" I questioned, looking up at the tall figure.

"I'm Giuseppe DeLuca, I am your ride." The man said.

He was tall, six feet maybe. His dark hair was made up of curls and he had warm brown eyes. He was a little on the heavier side of the spectrum, I realized he didn't work out much. He was dressed in dark jeans and a white button up shirt, very casual, I noted.

I followed Giuseppe over to a black SUV, the plates read, Illinois.

"A rental?" I questioned.

"Sì, I got it from the airport." He says, holding the door open for me. I climbed in the passenger seat as Giuseppe walked over to the driver side. He threw my bag into the backseat and climbed into the car.

As Giuseppe started the truck, I slipped on my seatbelt.

"So what driver comes from the airport? Did my mom and dad fly you in personally?" I asked.

"No, I am a family friend." Giuseppe said, "I come from Italy."

"Italy?"

"Yes, your parents told me a lot about you. I must say you're more beautiful in person." Giuseppe compliments.

I shift, "In person? Why do you say it like that?"

"You're very questioning." Giuseppe smiles, "That's nice."

I blush, "I am sorry. I guess I am just curious as to why my parents would send an Italian man to drive me home to see them when they usually send me a bus ticket."

"It's okay. I don't mind. I just came from LAX, so they asked if I could come by on my way to them." Giuseppe asked.

I was suddenly more open to Giuseppe. The man had a smile on his face the entire time since I met him.

Softly, I could hear the deep voice of a man in the background of the car.

"Elvis." I state.

"You're a fan?" Giuseppe asks.

"Major, I love Elvis." I smile, turning up the volume slightly.

Don't by Elvis Presley was playing. I closed my eyes and listened to the soft vocals. It was extremely comforting to hear the familiarity of Elvis playing throughout the car.

"My brother is also a fan. An extremist, I believe, but of course, he would never admit it." Giuseppe comments.

I didn't respond; I only kept my eyes closed and relaxed.

"We are here." Giuseppe says softly, waking me from a comfortable slumber.

My eyes opened and adjusted to the setting around me. Expertly built large houses surrounded me. All designed in modern art, and all looking like they cost more than a million bucks.

I was home.

I looked guiltily at Giuseppe, "Sorry, I guess I was tired."

"No need to apologize let me grab your bag." He said.

Giuseppe climbed out of the truck and grabbed my bag. I followed suit as he met up with me on the other side.

I led the way as Giuseppe and I walked up to the front door of the house. I rung the doorbell twice and waited patiently for the door to open.

The stone on the outside of the house looked freshly cleaned, the lawn was perfectly cut. The only thing that was new was the swing under the tree in the front yard.

I remembered my mother always wanting a swing, but she didn't because she had a fear that it would be an eyesore, and an eye sore it was.

The wooden door opened slowly and I was met with her mothers face. My mother looked exactly like me, dark brown eyes, full lips, tanned skin, and curly hair.

Only difference between us was that my mother kept her hair straight and I kept mine unruly.

"Hello, Eleanor." my mother, Natalie smiled. The smile was tight and my mother's tone was polite.

My mother always had a professional demeanor towards anyone she had met. It could easily be seen as cold, but I adapted to it easily.

"Hi mom." I smiled slightly, stepping into the house. Giuseppe followed suit and admired the home immediately.

The first thing you could see from the door was the vast living room with the upstairs railing, giving way upstairs. The furniture in the living room was dark brown and the woods were light brown.

The ceilings were high, causing echoes from even the softest-spoken words.

Giuseppe turned to look at the entryway to a hall near the back; my father, Allen Shields stood there, looking extremely grim to see Giuseppe.

Shakily, dad walks over to Giuseppe at the front door.

"Giuseppe, I am glad you made it here okay." my dad says.

"Your home is beautiful." Giuseppe smiles, "So is your daughter."

"Thank you. Can I get you a drink?" My dad asks.

"Yes, of course. I hope you have something strong." Giuseppe smiles tightly.

There was something off, I note. It seemed as if my father was acting different. Normally, my father was the big guy in the room, but it seemed as if he was submitting to Giuseppe.

I knew that my father had always been the alpha male. So why was he acting so nervous around Giuseppe?

Also, I noted that everything they said seemed to have an underlying tone, as if what they were saying really meant something else.

"Vodka will do you fine?" My dad asked.

"Just fine, on ice." Giuseppe said.

"Eleanor, let's take you stuff upstairs while the men talk." Mom said, "Dinner needs another ten minutes anyways."

Mom didn't give me any more time to object before she was practically dragging me up the stairs.

When we got to my room, I furrowed my eyebrows. All of my old clothes were packed in very expensive looking suitcase bags.

"What's all this?" I asked.

Mom closed the door and looked me in the eye. I immediately noted the fear in my mother's eyes. I hadn't seen that look since I left, and I hadn't missed it.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked.

"You know I love you, right?" Mom asked.

My eyebrows furrowed, "Mom, what's the matter?"

"I know I have been a terrible mother, I chose love over my own daughter, and when I realized it, it was too late. But I love you, Elle." Mom said.

Her grip was tight on my arms. I saw the tears in my mother's eyes; I had never been more scared than that moment.

Mom never cried.

"What made you realize that?" I asked.

"I tried to stop him, I really did. When I did he-"

"Mom, tell me what's going on. Please?"

"It's too late, but please just know that I love you. Don't try and disobey them, if you do, bad things are sure to happen. Just be a good girl and do as you're told."

"And what is that?" I was almost hysterical.

"You-"

"The food is done Natalie!" Dad's voice called out.

Mom wiped the tears from my face and stood up straight. Suddenly, all of the emotion was wiped from my moms face, "Wipe the look off your face, we have to go be strong." She whispers.

I wasn't like my mother; my face conveyed every single emotion. I couldn't be sure that I was in fact hiding my emotions.

I attempted my hardest to pretend that I wasn't affected, and hopefully I did well.

I followed my mother down the stairs and into the kitchen. Giuseppe and my dad sat close, Giuseppe glaring, and dad looking uncomfortable.

"Don't stand there all day, make the damned plates." dad snaps.

Giuseppe tsks, as mom rushes to grab plates.

"Where I come from the only thing men care about more than business is the respect for women." Giuseppe says slowly.

"You haven't met the women in my family." dad grumbles.

"Well, I've met Eleanor. I'm sure your Natalie is just as delightful, try to be nicer." Giuseppe says. Though his tone is soft, his words sound more of a demand, rather than a request.

Dad nods as he helped mom with the plates. I became uneasy as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

Minutes later, we sat down at the table and began eating the meal of steak, potatoes, and asparagus.

The meal was awkwardly silent for a moment, and then dad spoke.

"Eleanor, remember when you were seven, you used to run around the house saying you wanted to go to Italy?"

My eyes didn't leave the table, "Kind of, yes. Why?"

"Then in middle school you took Italian."

These are all because I like an Italian boy in my neighborhood; none of these were relevant anymore. Why is he bringing this up?

"Yes."

"Well, Giuseppe is offering to take you to Italy."

I looked up to Giuseppe who seemed to refuse my eye contact.

"Why?" I asked.

Dad clenched his fork, "What did I say about you and all of your questions?"

I sensed his anger, "To not ask so many." I said sheepishly.

"Giuseppe is taking you Italy for a while, you will be studying overseas in the DeLuca's home." Dad explains, "You will love it there, of that I am sure."

I laughed softly, nothing was funny, but I was laughing, "I never wanted to go to Italy that bad." I explain, "It was an abstract idea."

Dad looked me in my eye, sobering me up instantly, "But you will go."

I looked at mom, who was looking at me with a pleading look, and the Giuseppe who was glaring at dad.

"I'm nineteen." I nearly whispers, "You don't have leverage over me anymore."

Dads nose flared, "Eleanor, out of all the things you could possibly fight me on, this is not what you can chose."

"I-"

"No, Eleanor! You will go to Italy. This is not an option." Dad snapped, "Go to your room, you seem tired."

I didn't disobey; I nearly sprinted up to my room and slammed her door shut. I wanted to scream I wanted to cry, and want to... I didn't know.

I bit my lip and suppressed tears. I did not want to cry, not now at least. I had always wanted to be one of those people who didn't cry, but I failed every time.

As soon as the first tear fell, my door opened.

It was my mom.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Your father was gambling, I don't know what went wrong." mom explains, "The man, it wasn't Giuseppe, but the man he sells young girls into the s*x trade."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Mom started crying instantly, "Giuseppe is your only hope. He bought you from the man before anyone did. He requests that you marry his brother."

"Marry?" I gasped.

Mom shook her head, "We tried to beg the man, but all he did was kill your father's boss. That was his first message. He's just going to keep killing, I'm sure."

The world seemed to slow on its axis as I sat down on the bed, staring absently.

Every fear I lived with came rushing back to me like a fright train. The fear of abuse, the fear of being forced to do things I didn't want.

The only difference was this wasn't a thing I could get away from. With Wyatt, when I worked up the courage to leave, he didn't pursue me. When I left home, my father didn't show up to my home to terrorize me. But this, I couldn't run from.

From feeling so free hours ago, I felt completely and utterly stuck.