"No," I agree. "This is something else."
We walk back to the clubhouse in silence. When we reach his office, he closes the door and gestures for me to sit. "What do you know about our situation here?" he asks. "The local threats?"
"Only what I've observed. The sedan watching the compound. This camera. Dalla mentioned something about trouble in the past, but she didn't have details."
Runes is quiet for a moment, studying me. Making a decision.
"A few months ago, we took down a trafficking operation," he says finally. "Man named Eddie. He was running girls through our territory—young ones, some of them barely teenagers. We put a stop to it. Permanently."
"You killed him."
"I did what needed to be done." His voice is flat. Unapologetic. "But Eddie wasn't the head. He was a front. Someone else was running the show, and we never found out who."
"And now they're back."
"Activity's picked up again. Same MO, same routes. Whoever's really in charge, they've been rebuilding. Waiting." He gestures at the camera on his desk. "This tells me they're planning something. Something big."
"What do they want?"
"What traffickers always want. Money. Power. Territory." His jaw tightens. "Or revenge. We killed their front man. Burned their network. They might want payback."
I think about Dalla. The president's daughter. The perfect target if someone wanted to hurt this club.
"Does Dalla know?"
"She knows there was trouble. She doesn't know the details." He holds my gaze. "I'd like to keep it that way. She's got enough to worry about with the Irish situation."
"Agreed. But if she's a target?—"
"She's always been a target. Since the day she was born." Something weary crosses his face. "That's why I wanted her away from here. That's why I supported her move to Jacksonville, her fashion career. I wanted her to have a life that wasn't this."
"She came back."
"She came back." He almost smiles. "Stubborn, that one. Gets it from her mother."
I don't know what to say to that, so I say nothing.
"The Mackenzies sent you to protect her from the Krajncs," Runes continues. "But this—" he taps the camera— "this might be a bigger threat. I need to know you're prepared for that."
"I'll protect her from whatever comes. Irish, local, doesn't matter."
"Even if it means going against your orders?"
The question hangs between us.
My orders are to protect Dalla from the Krajncs, the threat out of Dublin.
If the real danger is here, in Florida, from enemies of the Raiders of Valhalla...
"My orders are to keep her safe," I say carefully. "The source of the threat doesn't change that."
Runes nods slowly. "Good answer."
He stands, extending his hand.
I shake it, and his grip is firm—not a test this time. An acknowledgment. "Welcome to the family, Brotherhood. Try not to get my daughter killed."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
