“Blown coverage in the secondary. Brady threw a bomb.”
“That goofy bastard. He has bad hair.”
Tony laughed. “Yes, he does. And a hot wife. But that doesn’t help your situation, now does it?”
“I’ll get your money.”
“You know, Owen, I like you. We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
“We have.”
“We’ve done a lot of good for you.”
“Not really. Not without getting an ounce of flesh.”
“We’re a business. We can’t just do things for free, can we?”
“Maybe not, but you come after me. I don’t want anything to do with you people.”
He smiled and shrugged. “That’s a good point.”
“And yet here you are, still pushing.”
“Let me explain something to you, Owen. We make our living by making people do things they don’t really want to do.”
“I know.”
“So why should it be different with you?”
“I paid you. We have no connection anymore.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Tell me what you want and then get out of here before the team comes back.”
He sighed and looked around. “Where did that girl go?”
“I don’t know. She left.”
“What was her name?”
“Don’t worry about her.”
“I’m not worried. She was pretty.”
“Don’t talk about her.” I wanted to get up and beat the fucking shit out of this bastard cunt. I would have, too, if it weren’t for my fucking knee.
Tony was a piece of shit, but he wasn’t a man to fuck around with.
Still, hearing him talk about Taylor set my fucking nerves on fire. Nobody talked about her, especially not some mafia cunt who was shaking me down. It was bad enough that he wanted to get my money from me, but he couldn’t fuck with her, too. I wasn’t going to allow it.
“No need to get upset,” Tony said, smiling at me. “I can see it on your face. You must like her.”
“She’s my trainer. That’s all.”
“That’s not all. I saw how you two looked at each other. I heard a little of your conversation. She’s much more than just a trainer.”
“You piece of shit.”
He held his hands up. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“I’m not supposed to assume you’re threatening her?”
He dropped his hands. “Oh, then you do have the right idea.”
“Fucking bastard.” I shifted my weight, but my knee hurt too much. “Is that all you’re here for?”
“More or less. I just want you to see that I can reach you anywhere. I see things and I hear things. I know more than you realize.”
“Great. Now fuck off.”
He sighed. “One day you’ll appreciate me, Owen. One day you’ll need something. Maybe you’ll kill a hooker by mistake, or you’ll get caught with drugs, or drunk driving. One day you’ll need our help and we’ll be there for you.”
“I won’t need you.”
“You will. All you NFL kids are the same.”
“Good. I’m glad you think so. I’ll be very happy when I prove your ass wrong.”
Tony stood up. “We’ll see about that.” He looked at his watch. “The game should be over by now, and you probably owe me five thousand dollars.” He looked back at me. “How does one week sound?”
“I can’t get you that money in a week.”
“Why not? I know how much money you make. It’s a fucking ton.”
“I put all of my money into old debt. I don’t have any cash lying around.”
“You’ll make something work, I’m sure.”
“Tony, I need at least two weeks until my next check.”
“One week.” He walked over to the door. “Bye, Owen.”
Just then, I heard the low murmur of the guys coming back down the hall from the field. They sounded dejected and quiet, and I knew what that meant.
Tony was right. We had lost the game.
When I looked back toward him, he was gone. Guys slowly filtered into the training room, looking annoyed.
That motherfucking bastard Tony. He came here just to threaten me and give me an absurd deadline. I didn’t know what his game was, but I wasn’t going to give in to him. I was going to find a way out and be done with the fucking mafia.
To make shit worse, I had nearly wrecked my knee for nothing. We didn’t even win the game. Sure, it was an important play and a good touchdown, but it didn’t really matter in the long run. If I had sat out a few plays and rested up, we’d still be just as well off.
I hated to admit it, but Taylor was right. I should have thought more long-term. I needed to start thinking in terms of a career, not in terms of each individual game.
I shook my head, tensed my knee, and hoped that the MRI would come back negative.
19
Taylor
All of that risk and they didn’t even win the game. I was furious with Owen, but I didn’t say anything to him about it. I could tell that he was upset himself.
He was strange after that man left. He didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t even make a single dirty, flirtatious comment to me. Even when I had been trying to put distance between us he had made at least one or two comments a day. It was part of who he was.
But when I returned, he didn’t want to talk. Instead, it was all business with him.
That suited me just fine, but I knew something had happened, and it definitely had to do with that guy.
The next day, Owen had his MRI. I wasn’t around for that, and we wouldn’t get the results of it for at least another day or two, but I knew he’d be stressed. I sent him a text wishing him good luck, but I didn’t hear back.
That was fine. If Owen was going to act that way, then I’d just accept it. We’d been getting too close anyway.
But something kept nagging at me. It was the way Owen’s attitude had shifted as soon as that guy had appeared.
Monday came, and I was at work early. Owen had the morning off, which meant I wouldn’t see him until later in the day for our session. Instead of sitting around doing nothing, I decided to do a little investigating.
I started with the training staff.
“Hey, Michael,” I said, poking my head into the head trainer’s office.
“Morning, Taylor.”
“Can I ask you a quick question?”
“Sure. Come on in.”
I walked into his office and sat down. “How well do you know the staff around here?”
“Pretty well. I’ve been with the team for six years now. Why?”
“I saw a guy yesterday. I’ve never seen him before. He’s pretty tall, wore a suit, dark hair. Looked Italian.”
Michael frowned. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“He had tattoos. Brown shoes. He was in the back training room after the game on Saturday.”
“Huh. Really?” Michael shrugged. “Sorry. No clue.”
“Okay then.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I just didn’t know him. He was talking to Owen like they knew each other.”
“Maybe he was someone Owen brought in.”
“Oh, yeah. Probably. Thanks, Michael.”
“Any time.”
I stood up and left his office more confused than before.
That man didn’t seem like someone Owen had wanted to see. I had assumed he was just another doctor, or maybe some coach I hadn’t recognized, but Michael didn’t seem to know who I was talking about. It wasn’t impossible that he just didn’t know who it was, but that would be surprising.
I went into the main office and asked a few other coworkers, but none of them knew who I was talking about. Before I could bug more people, the training staff had to head out to the practice field for the morning session.
Since Owen wasn’t practicing, I didn’t have much to do. I mainly stood around and watched everyone else get to work. I scanned the fair number of people standing around and watching, but I couldn’t spot that man from yesterday. I didn’t see him with the coaching staff, and I didn’t see him with the support.
I felt frustrated as the day wore on. I knew I should just let it go, but for some reason I couldn’t.
It was the look on Owen’s face when he first saw the man. He had looked shocked, purely shocked, and then angry. It was almost as if he hadn’t expect the guy to show up there, and then he was pissed off that he had.
Finally, the morning session ended, and I knew Owen would be coming in for a light session. I hadn’t talked to him yet about his MRI, so I looked forward to finding out what it had been like. I headed back to my desk, and maybe fifteen minutes later, I got called down to the training room.
I found Owen sitting against the wall. He looked up when I walked in.
“Hey, Owen,” I said.
“Taylor.”
“How’d it go?”
He shrugged. “They put me in a big, loud machine, and now I’m here.”
“Sounds exciting. When do we find out?”
“I don’t know. Soon.”
I sat down next to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Annoyed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m fine,” he said. “My knee is fine.”
“Let’s see it.”
He stretched it out, but I wasn’t watching his leg. I watched his face instead, and I saw what I had suspected I would: a small flinch of pain as he straightened it out.