My eyes brimmed with tears as my father had a pained expression of his face.
"Sweetheart, I had no choice! You can't even kill a fly!"
It seemed my emotions took over me as I sobbed,
"When am I leaving?"
My father began to put the dishes away, tearing up a bit himself.
I started to storm upstairs, without taking a second look at my dead-beat father. Why was I getting so pissed off?
Didn't I know this was apart of the deal? Being a gang-leader's kid?
My father is David Kerciku, one of London's most feared gang leaders. He led the White Fang and was foolish enough to deal with London's most famous gang, the White Eskimo, and their leader, Harry Styles. Jailed at the age of 11 for killing his father, it seems he had a bit of hard life.
He told my father these simple words,
But, my father, spent all of the money that was needed to get in the kill sight, he had spent at the casino the night before. Drunk, he decided to tell Mr. Styles himself.
And of course, the White Eskimo left no time for punishment.
Think about it. The White Fang was notorious for the bank robbery loot, and the White Eskimo lived off the money of killed billionaires.
"Give me the girl and you'll live."
That selfish father of mine gave me away to become his. I didn't even like to say his name.
You're probably wondering who this French bitch is right?
The names Francesca Kerciku, and I'm not afraid to bite. Trust me, ask some of my ex-boyfriends.
I guess you could say my dead mother and I look alike. We share the same long brown hair, with the huge ass hazel alien eyes. Being 5'3 and 120 pounds of muscle, I guess you could say I'm not afraid to kick ass, like Mama Kerciku did.
My phone buzzed, showing that my obsessive best friend, Rebecca Louis, kept texting me. Since it was at that time, I decided to text everything since she was the only one I could trust at the moment.
"I'm coming papi!"
I was packing when I heard a knock on the window. There was Rebecca, shivering, crouching with Victoria Secret bags.
"Seriously!" I shouted as I locked the window once more.
"Did you want me to kill your dad if I walked in?" She says, flipping me off as she dumps the bags on my bed.
I watched her to begin folding the clothes she had bought, "Please, I've got Harry Styles on my ass. Wait a minute, what the hell is that?"
She grinned as she held a stack of lacy underwear and multiple color bras, "Might as well flaunt it for your rapist."
"Fuck you," I laughed laying on the bed.
"You wish you could fuck me!" Rebecca giggles, packing my bag for me.
"To be honest, you're really not in a bad position, you know? You've got the hottest man in London under your wing," she says, packing away my clothes with me."
My mind didn't want to accept that; me? I bet you Harry Styles is probably expecting a lot more than me, Francesca Kerciku, a short twenty-one year old girl.
The night went on, with Rebecca picking out the most tumblr-ific outfit. Faded jeans with a cheap Forever21 sweater, with blue threads popping out, plus, to be even more stereotypical, she picked out red converse, my ones from camp that had the scent of coffee beans mixed with horse shit.
"I'm not trying to scare the guy."
Rebecca sighs, "Looking the least bit feminine won't kill you."
The car ride was long and awkward, with my father playing the Kook's Seaside about 7 times.
Do you want to go to the seaside?
I'm not trying to say everybody wants to go
He grabbed my bags, tears in his eyes.
I fell in love at the seaside
I handled my charm with time and slight of hand
That smirking monster sat inside the restaurant ruined everything for me.
Do you wanna go to the seaside?