Page 36 of Misery
Runes studies me. "You seem certain."
"I am."
"Because?"
"Because I'll kill every last one of them before they touch her again."
"Again?" Ivar's voice sharpens. "What do you mean again?"
Fuck. Careful.
"The apartment attack. That's what I meant."
But Ivar's eyes narrow. He knows there's more. Father's instinct, maybe.
"Moving on," Runes says. "We have a bigger problem. Bodies are dropping across the city. Los Coyotes, but not our kills."
"How many?" Fenrir asks.
"Six confirmed. All within the last forty-eight hours." Magnus pulls out his phone, shows photos. "Professional hits. Clean. Efficient."
"Rival cartel?" Tor suggests.
"Maybe. Or someone else with a grudge." Runes lights a cigarette. "Either way, it's escalating. War's coming whether we want it or not."
"Good," Rio says. "Let it come. Better than waiting for them to pick us off."
"Agreed." This from Dag. "But we need to be smart. Protect the families first."
"Already on it," Magnus confirms. "Doubled patrols. Armed escorts for all women and kids."
"Not enough," I say. "Elfe needs more than the prospects’ shit job. I handled two threats all because they weren't competent enough to."
"What are you suggesting?" Runes asks.
"She still stays at Emil's compound. It's a fucking fortress—biometric locks, reinforced windows, safe room, dogs. But I stay there too. Twenty-four-seven protection."
"Hold up." Ivar stands. "My daughter's not shacking up with?—"
"She's not shacking up with anyone." I keep my voice level. "She's accepting necessary protection from someone qualified to provide it. Unless you’d rather a prospect with his thumb up his ass be the one to protect your daughter."
"I'm her father. I can protect her."
"Like you protected her seven months ago?"
Low blow. But necessary.
Ivar's face reddens. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you dare talk about?—"
"I was here. I saw the aftermath. Saw what those animals did to her." I meet his eyes. "It won't happen again."
"You can't guarantee that."
"I can and I have."
Something in my tone must give me away. Ivar's eyes narrow. "What does that mean?"
"It means I take my duties seriously."
