163
**BONUS**
"You look absolutely beautiful, Gianna!" says Savannah, my bridesmaid, a petite brunette in a hand-me-down prom dress. Savannah's my only real friend from high school.
Maybe I do look beautiful, but I sure don’t feel it. A thrift store veil doesn’t exactly make me feel like a bride.
"Can you at least try to cheer up? It’s your wedding day!"
"Well, I’m glad one of us is happy."
"You’re being impossible, Gianna! Smile!" Savannah's grinning at me like it's her wedding day, not mine.
I wish I could be as excited as she is, but everything just feels wrong.
Jax Sotherby might be a decent guy, we have a modest apartment, and he’s got an okay entry-level job in bookkeeping, but at twenty-one, this isn’t what I imagined for my life.
Does everyone feel this way? Like life is supposed to be more than this? Maybe it takes a lifetime to realize you’re just a tiny speck in a vast world, and you don’t really matter.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Could you get that, Savannah?"
"That’s what I’m here for!" She flashes another big smile.
Right now, I feel like if it weren’t for Savannah, I wouldn’t be getting married at all. She’s the one who believes having security is important, and for her, that means having a husband.
I guess for people like us, who grew up in a state facility, love isn’t a luxury we can afford.
We marry so we have a roof over our heads and food on the table, even if it means putting up with a man who might hit you now and then, only to apologize and say he loves you right after.
That’s what we call security.
I’m sitting in a tiny room in a tiny church, inside my tiny life, staring into a tiny mirror, searching for any reason not to go through with this, when Savannah hands me a manila envelope, looking puzzled.
"This just came for you. The guy said you need to open it right now. Weird, right?"
"Weird indeed," I say, tearing open the package. "People are supposed to leave money in the birdcage out front."
"What is it?" Savannah’s excitement fades quickly when she sees what I’m holding.
My heart sinks. I flip through the photos, each one worse than the last.
New York is expensive. Our apartment is the crappiest one-bedroom in the dirtiest building in Bedford Park. I thought we were lucky to have it at our age. Jax often stays in the city during the week—he says it’s to save on commuting. He crashes at a friend’s place.
Turns out that 'friend' is a blonde with daddy issues—judging by how much she seems to enjoy the spanking she’s getting.
There are about twenty photos in total, some of him having sex with her from behind, some of her gagging on him like she’s done it a thousand times before.
I almost have to admire the quality of the photos. The zoom, the shutter speed, the composition... there’s nothing left to the imagination. Makes me want to take up photography—maybe I will.
Savannah gently places her hand on my shoulder. "Someone is trying to ruin things for you and Jax. But it doesn’t matter, Gianna! He still loves you. A woman can’t be alone in this world."
I don’t respond, and she adds, "You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?"
Hearing her delusion makes me smile. Screw Jax Sotherby.
I stand up and rip off the veil. "I’ve been alone my whole life. You’re the only person I’ve had. We’re worth more than this, Savannah. Promise me you won’t settle for this. Don’t end up here."
"Gianna, no!"
I rip off the cheap netting and tacky decorations we added to the dress, which make me feel even cheaper than Jax's mistress. I do it so I can move faster, then head for the door while Savannah tugs at my arm.
“What are you going to do?!”
“I’m going to our apartment, packing a bag, and seeing what happens.”
Starting over is easier when you have nothing holding you back. All the stuff people accumulate just weighs them down. I take a deep breath to steady myself before turning the door handle, then walk out with my head held high.
“Gianna, stop!”
I ignore her. She means well, but this is her dream, not mine. It’s time I start living for myself.
I walk through the hall until I reach the aisle leading to the altar. I see a few of Jax’s relatives sitting in the pews. He doesn’t have a big family—his dad's dead, his mom's a pushover, and his sister's an alcoholic.
There are also a few cousins chatting nearby. Jax sees me from where he’s standing with his so-called work friends in their rented blue suits and glares at me, probably because my dress is torn.
I figure I should tell him face-to-face so he doesn’t report me missing to the cops.
As I get closer, he half-whispers angrily, “What the hell is going on?”
There’s that bottled-up rage of his. Maybe it’s because he turned into his dad and didn’t even realize it.
I throw the pictures at him and say, “I’m leaving you. Your dick is small, and you never make me cum.”
I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm, “What the hell do you—”
This is all I needed—for everyone to see his true colors. I turn and punch him in the nose. He yelps and falls like a sack of potatoes.
Ouch, that hurt my wrist, but it was totally worth it. Screw him!
I head for the exit.
Antonio
"You really think we should be doing this, Antonio?" That’s my youngest brother, Daniel, talking. We’re sitting in a black Escalade, parked across the street from the ugliest church in Bedford, New York. We’re here to grab someone.
"This is how it’s done," Christian, my middle brother, replies. "Just deal with it."
I hear Dany shift in the back seat. "I’m just saying, couldn’t we just ask her to come with us? We don’t have to kidnap her."
I turn to him. "Do you really think a woman who doesn’t know us is going to trust three guys like us? That’s not how the world works. She’ll think we’re going to attack her. Don’t be so naïve."
Dany frowns. "It’s worth a try. Why make a scene on the street and risk the cops getting involved?"
I point for emphasis. "Because this is how Dad wants it done. That’s why he sent us instead of a crew, because he wants it done right."
Christina looks between me and Dany. "Compromise: we’ll ask first, and when she tries to run—and she will—then we take her. Deal?"
Dany raises an eyebrow. "Fine by me."
"Fine," I agree, just to keep the peace. Dany’s always trying to find peaceful solutions to situations that require force. "Now, stop talking and keep an eye on that door."
We go back to watching. If everything went as planned, Gianna Plateau should be coming out of that church any second.
Dany leans between the seats. "What if she didn’t get the pictures?"
Christina pushes him back. "Eyes open! She got them, alright?"
"What if she didn’t look at them?"
"She’ll look!"
"What if she doesn’t care and goes through with it anyway?"
Christina glances back at Daniel. "You mean if she still marries that idiot?"
They’re starting to get on my nerves. This is why we each run our own crews—we don’t work well together, too many egos clashing.
I cut them off, "Shut up and keep watch. She’s got the right instincts, she’ll be out of there soon."
And just as I say it, I spot a gorgeous brunette with long hair, rushing down the stairs in a torn wedding dress.
I open my door. "That’s our cue. Follow my lead."
Dany and Chris get out with me, and Dany whispers, "Ask first."
The disheveled young woman stops when she sees us, eyes wide, looking defensive. Her dress shows off her cleavage and legs—distractingly attractive, but I focus. I raise my hand and say, "Gianna Plateau, would you please come with us?"
"Why?"
I try to sound reassuring. "Someone wants to talk to you."
She hesitates, looking like she might run but isn’t sure.
Chris steps forward and mutters, "She’s gonna run," in that annoying I-told-you-so tone.
As soon as he says it, Gianna bolts, and I shout, "Grab her!"
Dany reaches her first, grabbing her arm. She screams and swings at him like a wild animal. He ducks without hitting back—I might have.
Christina grabs her from behind in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet. She thrashes around and screams, "HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP!" That’s when I notice her friend at the top of the stairs, the one in the cheap purple dress Chris mentioned.
"Take her to the car and keep her calm," I tell Chris. "I’ll handle this."
I walk towards the friend in the purple dress, who looks even more terrified than Gianna. She fumbles with her phone, but I’m there before she can dial.
I calmly pull out three hundred-dollar bills and offer them to her. "You didn’t see anything. She’ll call you in a few hours to let you know she’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about."
She stares at me, terrified, so I subtly show her my gun. She takes the money and nods.
I head back to the car and see Dany sitting next to Gianna with his 9mm pointed at her. Chris is in the front passenger seat. The car is deathly quiet.
I get in, start the car, and drive away.
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