My father looks like he's going to be sick.
And Fenrir?—
Fenrir turns to look at Ted.
The man who tortured his daughter.
The man who rapes children.
Something ancient and terrible awakens in his eyes.
"There's more," I say. "He told me about a shipment. Tomorrow night. Old motel on the Florida-Georgia line—thePine Motel. Six kids being moved through. Small operation. Eight, maybe ten guys."
"Tomorrow night," Runes repeats.
"Yeah. If we move fast, we can intercept. Get those kids out. Take down a chunk of the network."
Runes is quiet for a long moment.
Processing.
Calculating.
Then he nods.
"We'll discuss the raid later. First—" His eyes land on Ted. "We deal with this."
"What about my punishment?" I ask.
"Six months of shit duties with the prospects. Every grunt job, every cleanup, every task no one else wants. You do it. Without complaint."
"Understood."
"And if you ever—ever—go rogue again without authorization, I'll have your patch. We clear?"
"Crystal."
Runes turns to Fenrir. "He's your daughter's attacker. You want the first crack?"
Fenrir's smile is terrifying. "I thought you'd never ask."
Ted starts screaming before we even really begin.
Just the sight of Fenrir approaching with a pair of pliers is enough to break whatever composure he had left. "Please—I told him everything—I cooperated?—"
"You beat my daughter." Fenrir's voice is calm. Almost conversational. "You broke her ribs. Smashed her face. Cut her arm. Took her fuckin’ engagement ring."
"I was just following orders?—"
"And you rape children."
The words hang in the air.
Heavy.
Damning.
"I—that's not—I didn't?—"
