Bolts upright, hand clutching my shirt, eyes wide with terror.
Before I can calm her, the door flies open and light floods the room.
Fenrir stands in the doorway.
His eyes land on us—Ingrid pressed against me on the bed, my arm around her, both of us clearly comfortable with each other in a way that speaks to more than friendship.
"Well," he says, voice carefully neutral. "This is unexpected."
Fuck.
Ingrid scrambles off the bed, face flaming. "Dad, I?—"
"We have a lead," Fenrir interrupts, eyes on me now. "The trafficking ring. We're following up tonight. You're coming with me, Hakon, and Ulf."
I sit up, mind shifting gears. "When?"
"Now. Five minutes."
He looks at Ingrid again.
Something passes between them—a whole conversation in silence.
Then he's gone, door closing behind him.
Ingrid stares at me, mortified.
"Oh my god. My father just?—"
"We'll deal with it later." I'm already moving, grabbing my boots. "Right now I have to go."
"What's happening? What lead?"
"Information about the child trafficking ring. Potential location, people involved I guess. We're checking it out."
Fear flashes across her face. "Is it dangerous?"
"It's recon. Just looking. Listening. We'll be fine."
"Gunnar—"
I cross to her, kiss her hard and fast. "I'll be back before you know it. Stay here if you want. Or go home. Either way, we'll talk after."
"Be careful."
"Always am."
Another kiss, then I'm out the door, jogging down the stairs, then the hallway toward the parking lot where Fenrir, Hakon, and Ulf are already waiting by Fenrir's truck.
No bikes tonight.
Too obvious.
We're going in civilian clothes, no cuts, nothing to identify us as Raiders.
I climb into the passenger seat, and the prospects are riding in the back.
Fenrir drives, and nobody speaks for the first ten miles.
