Not that I can blame her.
I sit at the table. Fynn studies me for several long moments while Gavino continues the show of looking over my resume, rolling his eyes dramatically and grinning at me like this is all some big joke. I glance at the giant, and he’s watching me lazily through narrowed eyes, though I get the feeling that he’s as calm as a cat, ready to pounce at any moment.
Fynn and Gavino. Those names are so familiar I could scream. Where do I know them from?
And why does Fynn keep on staring at me, saying nothing? Like he’s trying to break me down to my constituent parts through the sheer weight of his gaze alone. It’s unnerving, but also exciting, and I can’t stop my racing heart as it gallops away in my chest. Fynn’s seductive glare is so sensual, so filled with promise, that I almost hate him for it, if I didn’t like it so damn much.
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, not sure if I should speak up and keep this interview moving, but I really don’t want to. If keeping my mouth shut means I can run out of here with my body intact and my dignity mostly there, I’ll happily stay mute for a while.
“Did your father explain the nature of this job?” Fynn asks finally, breaking the tense silence. Gavino picks up a white mug and takes a sip, watching me.
“Not exactly,” I say, glancing between the men. “I’m a physical therapist so I assumed it had to do with that?”
“Good assumption,” the giant says and chuckles.
“You go easy too, Nico,” Fynn says, smiling slightly like he enjoyed the joke, and looks back at me. “You’re right, we’re in need of a physical therapist, one that can be extremely private. As you may know, my business is very difficult and it’s exceedingly proprietary. Meaning anyone I work with is expected to be extremely quiet and discreet. More than that, my business is predicated on strength, and any hint of weakness will be exploited to maximum effect. Which is why you’re here and I’m not out at some fancy fucking hospital right now.”
I blink rapidly, trying to digest what he’s saying. “You need a private PT because your enemies might try to hurt you while you’re healing?” It all comes together quickly, probably because I’m used to thinking like a monster all thanks to good old Dad. He taught me how to be a thief, how to stand up for myself, how to fight when I need to fight. He also taught me to be smart and patient. Dad wasn’t so bad, at least until the day he ran off and left me and my mom broke and alone.
Gavino snaps his fingers. “Bingo, girl’s a genius.”
“Stop it,” Fynn grumbles. “But yes, that’s more or less correct.”
“Why me?” I’m practically pleading at this point, not sure why the heck they’d come to someone like me when I’m sure they have multiple doctors in their back pocket, someone with more experience.
Fynn glances sideways at Nico. “We need to be more prudent than usual right now. Things are…precarious. I can’t go into more detail, but your father said you’d have the skills necessary to help and the intelligence needed to do so without speaking a word to anyone, and we trust your father’s word.”
I sit back in my chair, trembling now. Those names… How do I know those names? “I’m going to be honest, this is all a little bit… overwhelming.”
“I understand. You’re not used to dealing with my family.”
“Your family?” I blink at him rapidly and my mouth falls open as those names suddenly click into place.
Fynn. Gavino. I’ve heard them before. My father used to mention them from time to time back when he and his friends would talk about the Bruno family. The core Bruno family.
The central core of violent, vicious mafia bastards that run the Bruno Famiglia, the most powerful Italian mafia in all of Phoenix, and possibly the entire West Coast. They’re famous for their ruthlessness and lack of moral compass and they’re known to do anything to hold onto power, no matter how crazy, bloody, or violent.
And now I’m sitting across the table from two of their inner circle, two of the most important men in their entire organization.
The third man, the giant named Nico, has to be in that upper rung too if what I’m hearing is correct.
All of a sudden, my situation becomes extremely clear: my life hangs in the balance.
“What I’m offering is very simple,” Fynn says, ignoring my outburst. He must see the fear on my face because I’m not doing a good job at hiding it. “Three months ago, I woke up from a coma. My injuries were significant, and I’ve been told I’ll need intensive PT if I’m ever going to walk properly again, and I very much want to walk fucking properly. At first, I thought the doctors were a bunch of lying fucks, but it turns out that they’re right. I can’t simply will myself out of this situation. If you’re willing to help, I will pay you handsomely. Hell, I’ll pay you extravagantly. There will be strings, but this will be the best job you’ll ever have in your life. One single patient, and I’ll pay you like I’m a dozen.”