Page 7 of Bad Medicine
Any elation I had felt upon seeing the number written on her card had vanished, leaving me feeling hollow and exposed.
“Fine. Then what does your organization do?”
“Oh, various things, really. I mostly trade in information these days, but gathering it is often a bit of a challenge.”
My mind drifted back to a bound man on a kitchen floor, the terror I had felt in that moment showing its face once again, but surprisingly, I wasn’t as inclined to let it control me this time.
Funny what desperation will do to a girl’s disposition.
“So,” I questioned, “are we talking setting broken noses or harvesting kidneys for the black market, because I gotta say, there is a whole lotta gray area between the two.”
Francesca laughed.
“No kidneys. Not yet, anyway. Although I’m glad to hear you’re qualified for organ transplant.” I wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Instead, I gaped at the casual way she was describing the illegal organ trade. “You never really know what kind of trouble we might be running into.” Shaking her head, Francesca continued. “Mostly things like sutures and infection control. The occasional stab wound and maybe a gunshot or two. Nothing serious, I assure you.”
“Nothing serious?” I scoffed incredulously. “All of that—everything you just said—is illegal. This would cost me my license if it was ever discovered.”
“Then you’ll have to be extra cautious, won’t you? And while my dealings aren’t always legal, I can promise you, they’ll never be boring.”
Sitting back, I drained my coffee to give myself time to think.
This was insane. There was no way I could accept her offer, not if I wanted to be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning.
But what about the things you could do with that money?
I wished that part of my brain would shut the hell up, but the sad fact was, I really needed the money. It wasn’t about what I wanted or desired, or even what I thought was right. It was about what I could provide for Jasper, and when push came to shove, that was all that mattered.
“I can provide you with this sum, cash, every month.” Francesca slid a fat envelope across the table, and I stared at it like it would burn me if I touched it. “I’m sure there is something in your life you can do with that kind of extra money.”
“Frankie, I work at a shitty hospital in a shitty neighborhood and then I catch a bus to go home to my even shittier rental. I am up to my freaking eyeballs in student loan debt and...other commitments. There is a fuck of a lot I could do with this kind of cash.”
Looking her in the eye, I said seriously, “I can’t go to jail, Frankie.”
“You won’t, Mia. All things aside, you won’t be brought in until after the action. Your roll will involve clean up, at best.” She leaned forward and placed her hand over mine. “I will protect my people, Mia. I promise you that.”
Swallowing, I looked again at the envelope of cash on the table between us.
“Alright,” I whispered, my voice choked by shame and desperation. “I’ll do it.”
“And I almost believe you. But, while I respect your desire to stay on the right side of the line, my work is done in shadows, Mia, and I can’t afford to have someone who isn’t fully on board. So, last chance; are you in or are you out?”
Clearing my throat, I sat up straight and squared my shoulders.
“I’m in.” I hesitated, then added, “But only because I really need the money.”
“I pay thy poverty and not thy will.”Francesca’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “I guess that’s all I’m going to get for now. But I assure you, Mia, we will make a great team. However, should your conscience decide to get the better of you, I am not afraid to put your organ donation idea to good use.” I stared at her in shock, but she just smiled. “It’s just business. You understand?”
There was nothing I could do but nod.
“Wonderful. This is the start of a fantastic partnership, I can feel it.” Rising from the booth, Vinnie standing with her, Francesca looked as though we had just traded our favorite cookie recipes, not struck a deal that could cost me everything I had ever worked for and loved.
I would have to play it smart; use the situation to get what I needed and get out before I got in over my head.
Simple.
Looking again at the pint-sized powerhouse who had just threatened my life, I knew nothing about this situation was ever going to be simple.
“Can we drop you somewhere, Mia?” Francesca asked with a smile. “I think you’ve missed another bus.”
