Shattered By Control - Page 16

Chapter 6

Fynn

“You look like that new physical therapist girl is kicking your ass.” Casso grins at me over a glass of whiskey. He takes a long sip as I massage my right thigh. It’s pulsing with a deep ache from doing extra leg lifts all afternoon. Even if I’m not in a session with Mirella, I’m still going to work, because there are no breaks for the weak.

“I swear she’s trying to kill me,” I say, which is partially true: I think she’s getting revenge for the way I’ve been pushing her lately. I respect it, but god damn, am I suffering.

“But you need this. Don’t forget it. You’re strong, brother, you can do it.”

I nod in agreement, grateful for his support. Casso and my family have been nothing but helpful and kind since the moment I woke up, and I know my Don feels a particular sense of responsibility for my condition. I was shot while we were following up a business lead together, and the assassins were aiming for him, not for me. I was told later that he barely left my side while I was in a coma, even though the Famiglia desperately needed his attention. Karah said it was tearing him apart, watching me unconscious on that bed. For me though, the coma is nothing more than a vague dream, just shapes and sounds.

Now that I’m awake, he’s constantly checking in on me. I appreciate it, and I love my brother, but I wish he would stop treating me like I’m going to crumble to pieces. I survived, and I will thrive with hard work.

Although it does help. Giving the girl so much money wasn’t a small ask, but Casso feels as though he owes it and didn’t argue too much. I suppose that’s worth a little bit of overbearing protectiveness.

“If I had my way, we’d be in training all day,” I say with a shrug and take a drink of my own whiskey. It’s warm and smoky and feels good as it fills my belly with strength.

“I don’t think I could spare you for that long.” Casso leans forward on his elbows. We’re alone in the game room, sitting at the bar. Pool tables sit behind us and a big couch in front of a massive flat screen TV is set up beyond them. The bar is stocked with dozens of high-end bottles and multiple beers on tap, though we Bruno boys mainly stick to the brown stuff. “Cillian’s been pressing in on the territory Federov took, and there are whispers that the Yakuza are thinking about allying with them.”

“I thought the Koreans and the Japanese hated each other?”

“Apparently not. The Yakuza doesn’t have much of a presence in Phoenix, but any extra strength behind Cillian is a problem. This is why I need you to heal. I need all my brothers by my side.”

I nod slowly and sip my drink, not looking at him. Shame and self-loathing rage through me and I struggle not to indulge myself in worthless blame games. I don’t want him hurting, just like he doesn’t want me struggling, but we’re Brunos. Pain and strife are in our blood.

His words are meant well but they’re like daggers in my back. He says he wants me by his side but we both know I can’t do a damn thing to help right now, and it drives me insane. I’m itching to get up on my own two feet again and get out there on the front lines, but as long as I can barely walk at a shuffle then I’m more of a liability than anything else.

The idea nearly breaks me.

“There has to be something I can do now. Something that doesn’t involve running.”

Casso shakes his head. “Your top priority is healing.”

“And I’m doing all that I can, but maybe a distraction wouldn’t be so bad.”

He frowns at me. “I don’t want you to push too hard.”

“I can’t sit around all day feeling sorry for myself. I need work, Casso. I need something to do.”

He digests that a moment and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s what Olivia said last night.”

“You have a smart wife.”

“I know I do.” He sighs and finishes his drink. “I told her that you’re not ready, but if you say you are then I’ll find you something.”

“I want to help the family. I won’t be a burden.”

That seems to hurt him. Casso flinches and looks away, and I can feel the guilt rolling off his shoulders. Guilt over what happened to me and guilt over how it’s still being handled. My brother is a vicious mafia Don but he’s still a good man at heart.

“You’re not a burden, but I’ll find you something to handle. It might not be what you’re used to though.”

“That’s fine by me.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Dark
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