Page 4 of Third Degree

I had surprised my papa, and he would probably start shooting over here soon. That was when the tears started to flow down. Once they started, even if I willed them to stop, it was nearly impossible to. It wasn’t pretty crying, either. It was a full-on ugly tantrum with hiccups.

“Papa!” I managed to get out between wails.

“Gianna!” My mother was now running ahead of my papa toward where I was. She looked ridiculous in her tiny body-con dress, running through rows of flower boxes with an intense scowl on her face. “What did we tell you about eavesdropping?”

She snatched my hand and yanked me toward the garden entrance where they were now standing.

It was humiliating. I felt like a toddler getting punished. Because my parents refused to believe the doctor, they also refused to figure out ways to help me calm down.

I learned quickly that if I hyperfixated on something in my blurred vision and counted backwards from ten, I would be able to reach a state where I could focus on calming down. According to my internet research, it was called being flooded by an intense emotional response only to find something to ground me.

I stared down at the gardenias I had just planted and focused on the small ladybug crawling up the flower. It took a few moments, but my breaths went from ragged to slightly intense.

“Sorry.” I stared at my Converse shoes. Maybe if I tapped my heels twice, I would be transported back to Chicago. Even better, to a family not associated with the Italian mob.

“What did you hear?” my papa barked at me, his face flaming red with fury.

“Nothing,” I stammered. “I was with Tomas and working on my plants. I couldn’t hear anything with the ocean waves in the background.”Liar. Yes, I was a liar too. Add this to the list of things I needed to confess at church on Sundays.

“Family business is none of your business, amore.” My papa kissed me on my forehead and then took my hand to guide me into the house. “Come, let’s go to dinner.”

I took one quick glance back at the ocean and a long inhale, where the smell of sweet roses wafted through the breezy air.

What did I do to the big man upstairs to be stuck in this life? There had to be an answer, and I would not stop until I found it. Like a barred animal at the zoo was how I felt most days. There had to be a way out.

2

Gianna Daphne

18 years old

It was dark, so dark. Hearing a loud bang and wanting to look at what was happening, I slipped from my bed. I brought Stuffy with me because it was so scary when it was dark. When I heard my papa yelling down the hallway near his office upstairs, I hid in the corner of the room, right where I could peep out to see the hallway. I was lost in the shadows.

In the darkness was where the man lifted me off the floor and covered my mouth with his hands. He was wearing all black. It was cold. Scary.

I saw my father rounding the corner from his office walking back into the hallway. My savior.

“Why are you in my house?” He pointed the gun at the man’s face. I held onto my blanket, but the man’s grip was so tight.

“I will fucking murder you, your wife, and your kids.”

I wrapped the blanket tightly against my mouth, but this man was terrifying. He was the devil incarnate, and I was just the little kid he wanted to kill.

“Ricci, you know if you kill me, then it will sever our ties together. Your distribution is fucked,” the strange man told my father. My papa was gripping the front of his shirt now. The man held me.

“You will not threaten my family,” my papa seethed, and I wanted to run over and thank him for protecting me and my brother.

The man tsked. “You are thinking too soft. You have become weak, Ricci. If you want to be capo of this family one day, you need to think of the business, not your heart.” The intruder’s voice was cold and void of any emotion.

“I will let you go, but if I see you sneaking around here and trying to do anything else with my wife, that is it.”

“Don’t worry, Ricci. She is your property, but if you ever threaten me again, I promise to kill or sell that sweet little thing you call blood when she comes of age.”

No, Papa. Please save me.

Papa released the man, who scurried downstairs. I heard the front door slam shut. I dropped to the cold tile floor of the hallway.

“Why is that scary man telling you he will kill me?” I asked him.

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