How could I? I had basically been kidnapped, and although nothing bad had happened to me yet, it still felt like I was in a precarious position. The man I had met and so unwisely clashed with at the airport was dangerous. Normal people did not walk around with guns and cash in their bags.
I felt both scared and paranoid. Once the adrenaline rush came down and I was alone in the room he put me in, I began to take stock of my situation.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no.” I began to panic and talk to myself. The biggest brush with the law and illegal behavior I had ever gotten into was when I got a ticket for speeding. I was eighteen and fresh out of high school, so I wasn't really a standard for good decisions. But as an adult, I had never even texted while driving. To be in a house with someone who not only had guns but seemed completely capable of using them on me… That made me completely irrational.
The fear made me unable to focus on anything but the dire situation I found myself in. Even when I finally fell asleep, all my dreams were about running from an armed masked assailant. I tried to calm myself by remembering the details of the house in hopes of thinking up an efficient escape plan.
“I could try and see if I could sneak out through the window, and then I could run and keep running until I reached the American Consulate,” I thought, but even I knew that it wasn't much of a plan. The man who kidnapped me, Vincenzo, still had my passport and all my money. I also didn't know if he had cameras on the property. All in all, it seemed like my escape plan was shit. However, that didn't mean I would give up.
In what seemed to me the middle of the night, as I did not have my phone either, I crept over to the window, which was covered by dark heavy curtains. They were lavish, dark blue with threads of gold running through them in a beautiful, embroidered pattern. However, when I pushed back the I saw how far of a jump I had to the ground. The window was blocked by thick metal bars placed vertically across it. It looked like it was not my captor’s first rodeo at kidnapping people, I guess.
“Who is this man?” I mumbled to myself. I had been taken by an armed man who apparently had enough experience kidnapping people to have a room with bars on the window.
I threw myself on the bed in the room, then tossed and turned until I slept from exhaustion for what felt like twenty minutes. After that, I spent the rest of the night just up staring at the curtains. My first indication that it was finally morning came from the sunlight that filtered through them.
I sat on the edge of the bed and clutched the frame. Before I could get my still-disordered thoughts together, the door swung open.
“Good, you're up. Get up and get dressed.” Vincenzo said as he tossed something on the ground at my feet. My heart pounded the moment I spotted him, but when my gaze landed on what he had just brought in, I felt my mouth go dry. It was my bag, my real bag, the one that caused the mix up that had landed me there.
He must have spent the whole night looking for it, but rather than feel touched, I felt frightened. How did he do that? This confirmed my doubts about how he was able to get a bag of drugs and guns past airport security and the scanners. This wasn't just a dangerous man, he had powerful connections. This changed the game. It made me reconsider my escape plan and worry if his reach also stretched to America. It also made me worry that he now had an unbelievable amount of information on me and would have no problem getting me back even if I got away.
“What are you staring at? You're wasting my time,” he said in the brusque tone I had come to expect from him. Before I could get up, he approached me slowly, like a lion stalking its prey.
My breath caught in my throat. I watched him, feeling a weird mix of emotions within me. One was fear and the other was something I couldn't identify, but the combination of the two made my heart pound like a drum.
I couldn't make myself move, so all I could do was watch him as he walked up to me, put his hands on my arms and pulled me up. When he did that, my body was flush against his. Our closeness was like a shot of adrenaline to my other still-unidentified emotion. It became stronger, and I found myself focusing on it, trying to decipher what it was.
“Now you're up. Get dressed. We have a wedding to attend.” His words, spoken so close to me that I felt his breath on my face, pulled me out of my thoughts.
He was right. The wedding was today, and I had to be there. With that in mind, I nodded weakly as I stepped aside to put some space between me and this terrifying man. I had told Sarah, the bride-to-be, that I had met a charming man at the airport, and he had been really kind and helpful upon arrival my in Palermo. My luggage had been lost, which was why I had accidentally grabbed his, if the question arose. He had helped me get it back as he was Italian. He had then taken me out to dinner when things got late and so I had wanted to reciprocate by inviting him to the wedding. I knew she would be okay with it because she would understand that it would make things easier to go with a date.
“Okay, but can I get a little privacy?” I asked boldly. Even as I spoke, I felt slightly panicked. I had no idea where the sudden boost of courage came from.
In response, all I got was silence as Vincenzo watched me carefully, as if trying to figure out if I was planning something. I don't know what he saw on my face but it must have given him some confidence because a moment later, he nodded.
“Be ready in half an hour.” He said before leaving the room. There was no key, so I had no way to lock either the bedroom or bathroom door. All I could do was shower as quickly as possible and change just as fast.
The dress was familiar, I had picked it out with my best friend. It was light green with thin straps that crisscrossed at the back into what looked like a spiderweb. It was a beautiful dress, one that I never thought I'd be so unhappy to wear.
From what Vincenzo said, I could tell that he was going to the wedding with me, and I would probably not get a moment to myself. It was an impossible situation. I wanted to, no, I had to run away. But I didn't know how far I would get with him watching me like a hawk.
I was right to be worried because the moment I stepped out of the room, Vincenzo stepped forward and remained so close to me that it seemed like we were joined at the hip.
Once we were in the car, he handed something to me.
“Here, make whatever calls or texts you need to so no one comes looking for you. I'm going to be watching and listening, so you better be careful about what you say.” He said as he handed me my phone. It was a smart move as it dashed my hopes that my mom or friends would call the police if they didn't hear from me in over a day. His timing handing me the phone now was perfect.
I was hesitant but I sent texts to everyone who mattered. And I had to return a call from today's bride. He had only let me send her a text the previous night to inform her of my whereabouts and that I was bringing a plus one to the party.
I felt the blood drain out of my face as I called her back. The phone rang, but when she didn't pick up, I couldn't help myself but feel relieved. I had complicated feelings about the bride and groom and this wedding. It was why my mom didn't understand my choice to be here. Now seeing the kind of mess I had gotten into because of this wedding, I wondered if she was right and this place was just bad for me.
“I never should have boarded that plane.” I mumbled to myself. However, my voice must have been louder than I thought because I got a chuckle as a response from the man beside me.
“Maybe. But you're here now. So what's the point of regretting it?” He said as he took back my phone and slid it into his pocket.
I didn't respond but my mind was racing. He was right. Instead of sinking into regret, I had to figure out how to get myself out of this mess. The only people in Italy I knew were the bride and groom, and maybe a few members of the wedding party. Hardly people to sacrifice my freedom for. Once I got that hesitation out of the way, I decided that my best bet to escape would be to slip away during the reception. That would be when things were as rowdy as they could get. The combination of drunk people and a small crowd could give me the cover I needed to get out and stumble my way to the consulate.
Once I had that plan in place, I felt a bit calmer. However, when we stepped out of the car, I felt a vise-like grip on my arm. It was Vincenzo, holding me so tight I would have to cut it off to get away from him.