Another update. They
should be coming a little more frequently as the semester is about to end, but I make no promises on that one;)
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"From here on our, everything we do is illegal."
"But why would she hide this from us?"
"Your mother wanted to protect us all."
"She didn't do that, though, did she?"
"Lauren, your mother--"
"Don't lie to me! I've had enough lies! She didn't protect us at all. She left us...like this! Where are we going to get $2 million from?"
"Lauren, mom didn't want us to be involved. Didn't you hear what dad said? We weren't supposed to have this debt."
"I'm going crazy. I-I can't take this."

"Lauren, please! This isn't any easier for me or your brother."
Still, John pulled his daughter into an embrace. He felt her body shake as she began to cry. Had he done the right thing? Was the truth really worth destroying the image of his wife?
"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise to protect you. Always."
John pulled his son into the hug, too. They all had to fit this new Magdelena, this new character, into their lives.
"Go get some rest, kids. It's been a hard day. I think we could all use...some rest."
The air seemed to float out of John at the same time a weight was placed on his shoulders. None of them deserved this. A soft rain beat down on the windows, and John allowed himself to sink into the ambiance around him as his children went to their rooms.

Five minutes later found John sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, a half empty bottle of whiskey his only companion. His now murky brain wouldn't grasp any of the events he was trying to digest. His vision swam and John believed he saw his beautiful Maggie in front of him. He reached out to the Maggie he knew, but it didn't matter because the image swam before him until it became Magdelena Anatoli - Hitwoman extrodinaire. Not his wife. His drunken mind saw "clues" everywhere. Business trips, extravagant gifts. He was a fool not to see this sooner. But who suspects their wife of being a hitwoman?

The doorbell rand at an early hour. Still somewhat asleep, Lauren answered the door. She quickly woke up when faced with the man who would cause her family so much trouble. Lauren narrowed her eyes. Before she even realized what she was doing, Lauren raised her hand and slapped Sal Monella. Fear didn't trump the anger in her heart. She looked the villain right in the eye and dared him to do something.
"Please, let's not be stupid, kid."
Sal violently pushed Lauren aside. When John entered the living room, he saw Lauren on the floor, and Sal's angry face; fear rose in him. Sal roughly grabbed john's shoulder and nearly flung him into the kitchen. The front door closed with a loud bang. At the back of the house, John could hear his son stirring. John couldn't suppress the shaking. There was an undeniable force of evil and malice in his house, and there was nothing he could do to make it go away.

"You've got a beautiful daughter there, John. I'd be very careful with her. Don't let her attitude get out of control. I don't take very kindly to insults."
John noticed Sal's slightly reddened cheek.
"Here is the contract, your payment plan. $1,000 a month, every month, until your debt is paid off. You will pay interest. I do not accept late payments, and you'd better be glad I didn't add extra money for that little girl's attitude."
John didn't want to sign the contract, but felt that he didn't really have too much choice. Under the watchful gaze of Sal Monella, John Irving found a pen and scribbled his signature on the designated lines.

"Heh, you're a rational man, John. stay the hell away from the Anatoli family. They're no good for you. Bitterness and jealousy spreads like the plague. Seven days until your first payment is due."
Sal walked out of the house, giving Lauren an evil look on the way. When the door closed, Lauren and John Jr. came running to their father.
"What are we going to do? We can't do this!"
"Dad, he put his hands on her! He pushed Lauren!"
John had no comforting words to offer his children. He had no comforting words to offer himself. He couldn't even protect them. They were being watched. Their home had become a prison. What choice did he have but to pay?

When Jeoffy Lannister and a couple "collection agents" came exactly seven days later, John wrote out a check for $1,000. Mr. Lannister shook his hand and said it was a pleasure to do business with him. John bit his tongue. The men were barely out the door before he let loose.
"This isn't business, this is extortion!"
Mr. Lannister slightly turned his head. John knew he had been heard. What did it matter, thoug? He didn't even get to grieve for the
murder of his wife. This whole mes had started three days after the funeral. These people were ruthless, mean, insensitive. They didn't care. Why should John respect them if they wouldn't respect him.
"They're bigger than you, and they'll kill you. You don't have the heart to kill a man."
John slumped against the wall. A vicious cycle was forming.
For four months, John endured. For four months, John payed, too afraid to contact the Anatoli family. Four months and things had finally begun to settle down into a routine. John hadn't realized just how much money Magdelena brought into the house. He couldn't afford to continue paying $1,000 every month. With seven days until Sal's minions showed up again, John reluctantly drove back to the bank to get the money Magdelena had set aside.

"Where'd this money come from?"
"Magdelena had it in her lockbox."
Sal sneered. "That's my money anyway. now where's that thousand?"
John was floored. "This money is to cover the debt! There's you thousand! $400,000 right there!"
"Didn't you her me? This is my money anyway. Magdelena was stealing from me."
"Stealing? Maggie would never steal."
"Shows how much you know."
"I'm her husband--"
"But she didn't trust you enough to tell you she worked for me."
"What the hell is your problem? What more do you want from me? You take this $400,000 and you deduct that from our debt. What do you want us to do? Go Broke? I've got my kids to take care of, you thieving bastard!"
John didn't know what hit him--man or truck. There was a loud booming voice that sounded like thunder and rattled his brain.
"Two thousand next month, and you better watch your mouth!"

The front door slammed and the children came running to where John was slumped against a kitchen counder, dazed. His vision swam, but he was moderately sure Lauren was crying. His face hurt like all heck, but he felt good inside. He'd stood up to Sal Monella, mob boss. He could do it. He would take a stand. He would defend his family.
The next month, Sal came again. The two men stared at each other. John knew he was on thin ice--one doesn't retaliate against the mob. Still, John had his children to think of.
"Two thousand."
"You took it."
"Let me show you something."
John sat at the table with his arms crossed. Sal reached into his bag and produced the contract John had signed.
"Do you see this?"
Without warning, Sal struck John with the heavy stack of paper. John was flung out of his chair. His heart told him to fight back, but his mind kept him from making an even bigger mistake.
"Do you see this contract? Do I need to remind you of what it says?"
Sal continually beat on John, but John wouldn't give in. Sal was becoming frustrated. He started to punch and kick John as well as beating him with the large stack of papers. Finally raging and out of breath, Sal Monella ceased his savage attack.
"Don't be stupid. I'll be expecting $3,000 next month."
Again, the front door slammed, and again Jay and Lauren came rushing to their father's aid.
"Dad, please. You can't keep doing this . You're not protecting us, and you're no good to us if he kills you. Lauren and I need you alive."
John looked at his son and smiled through a bruised and bloody face. Lauren dabbed at her father's injuries with a damp cloth.
"Next month we're paying him. You can't afford not to. Getting beaten within an inch of sanity isn't ok. Not every month, not ever."
John touched his daughter's face. She was so loving, so much like the Magdelena he thought he knew.
"We're not paying that man another dime."

"Dad this
not the time to be stubborn! You can't keep taking these beatings. Look what they're doing to Lauren! Do you know she cries herself to sleep every night? Her grades are sufferening! We can't keep watching you do this."
"I'm doing this for you!"
"No dad, you not. This is all about your ego. You found out you can stand up to this man, and now you're going to do that just because you can!"
John struggled to stand up, struggled to look at his son. His legs were weak, his body unstable. Lauren came to his side to support him.
"Do you think I like getting beat up, John? Tell me, does this look like fun to you?"
"Dad, listen, this isn't good for you--"
"I try to protect you--"
"You're not trying to protect us--"
"And this is how you act?"
"If you were trying to protect us, you wouldn't act like you've got some kind of crazy deathwish!"

"I'm not going to let that man take everything we've got. It's just not going to happen. I've worked too damn hard--"
"That was mom's money."
"What?"
"Mom made most of the money."
"What?"
"Don't think I haven't noticed. Since she died, we've had to skimp on a lot of things. If you were making so much money, nothing would have change."
"Don't you
dare!"
"Dad, Jay, please! Don't do this!"
Father and son stared at each other, a quiet resentment growing between them. The protected no longer felt safe. The protector no longer felt able to shelter. Lauren felt lost, left to bridge the growing gap. She so desperately wanted to believe that her mother wasn't a bad woman. How could she ignore the posthumous pain they were being put through?

"Is that what you really think of me, Jay? Do you really think I'm worthless?"
"I think we need to pay Mr. Monella."
"I give him this, and then what? You suppose he'll leave us alone? Do you think he'll just go away?"
"I'm not stupid, dad, but what if you're doing more harm than good. Call the police--"
"So he can kill us?"
"
Enough!"
Tears poured wildly from Lauren's eyes.
"It's killing me to see you going after each other like this..."
John melted into a chair as Lauren stormed out of the kitchen, dragging her older brother with her. Their family was falling apart, but John was determined to keep something resembling a family together because he did truly love his children. He didn't want them to be forced to fend for themselves. He was their father. He was their last hope for a normal life.

In the cabinet under the counter was a half empty bottle of whiskey. Desperate and lonely, John dug in. Through the glass, he was able to conjure the image of his wife. His dear Magdelena, through whom all things started to change. He looked to her distorted form for strength and wisdom, but nothing was to be found at the bottom of the whiskey bottle. Maggie started to fade, and John dug out another bottle, hoping to keep her with him for just a little while longer.
"You're going to kill yourself, babe," she said to him. Or was he just imagining things?
Another glass made her image clearer. He could smell her perfume. She smelled of sweet jasmine. The smell of heaven. She faded and blurred as John began to cry, and came back into focus as he downed another glass.
"John, pace yourself."
"I don't want to see you go."
"John--"
"I love you so much and now I'm lost without you."
There was the soft pressure of Maggie's hands on his shoulders. The smell of her sweet jasmine was closer, and he could feel her breath on his neck. She nuzzled close to him, and he closed his eyes, bathing in the presence of his wife.
"Don't leave me, Maggie."
She sat down opposite him. The sun was beginning to rise, the day was coming.

"It's too late for that, John."
"Don't leave me--"
"I already have."
"Stay with me."
"I'm always with you."
"Where? Where, Maggie."
"Here, in your heart."
Tears and whiskey and pain made the world unclear. John wasn't truly sure who he was talking to. It couldn't be his Magdelena. She was dead. And yet this woman was so like his beautiful Maggie. She smelled of sweet jasmine, her skin was so soft. John could smell the shampoo she used.
"Help me. Please Maggie, I'm lost."
She cooed softly in his ear as if he were a saddened child. Soft hands took the glass and whiskey bottle away from him. Sweet jasmine laid his head down the on kitchen table. Heaven covered him with a blanket. Angels helped him to sleep.
"Help me. Help..."
"Go to Father. Hi will be your salvation."
Delicate words, suggestions of whispers, drifted into his ears. They nestled themselves in the back of his mind as he turned to the back door. She was leaving, but he was too tired to reach a hand out to her, too tired to move his mouth. She was leaving again, but there was nothing he could do to stop her. She was leaving. She was gone. He was alone.