No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(41)

“Yeah, I’m McFadden. What do you want? If you’re selling, I’m not buying.”

Pike said, “Mind if we come in?”

McFadden scowled and said, “Yeah, I mind.”

Pike pushed open the door and said, “That was just a formality. Like saying ‘I mean no disrespect,’ then calling you a jackass.”

He said, “Hey! What are you doing? I’ll call the police.”

Pike flicked his head at Jennifer, and she sidestepped, moving into the flat. She walked through the den and entered the bedroom, hearing Pike say, “Call whoever the f*ck you want.”

McFadden said, “Hey, she’s got no right—” She heard a thump, and knew Pike had just stepped over the threshold, letting the man know that rights were held only by those who had the monopoly on violence. She had no illusions about who that was.

Six months before, she would have regretted her participation. Maybe even tried to intervene. Actually, most certainly would have intervened, if only to prevent Pike from causing permanent damage to an innocent man. Today, those feelings never surfaced. She expected remorse, but all she felt was the press of time and the loss of Kylie. The fact surprised her. She pulled up short, hearing the man protest again, then Pike begin his questions. She heard a slap and started to go back to make sure Pike didn’t do anything she would regret.

Kylie’s picture floated in her head, and she stopped. Finding her is the priority. She’d seen the pain on both Kurt’s and Pike’s faces, and the little turd in the other room meant nothing. They needed answers, and he might have them. Her thoughts surprised her again, making her wonder what she’d become.

She took a quick glance in the bedroom, seeing no threats—and nothing to indicate anyone was being held here. Well, anyone that wasn’t a science experiment for contact diseases. She picked her way through the dirty underwear and smashed beer cans, getting to a closet at the back of the room. She opened it and found a sunlamp and a few marijuana plants growing, making her smile.

She went to the bathroom, cringing at the moldy shower curtain and grimy tile. There was nothing else of interest. She caught her reflection in a mirror and paused, looking to see if she was different. If she was now like Pike, devoid of empathy. Devoid of the natural human desire to stop someone like him from extracting what he wanted from a weaker being. The person who looked back was a cheerful woman, hair in a ponytail and dancing gray eyes. No remorse. No thousand-yard stare.

And she had an epiphany. Pike is right. Sometimes you need to be a little bad to ensure the good.

Monsters were holding Kylie, and no amount of goodness was going to stop them from harming her. There was no “natural” human desire to prevent atrocities. She’d seen enough brutality to shatter any notion about innate human virtue. If they wanted Kylie back, they would have to take her by force, carving a path through men like the one in the next room. If that meant violence, then so be it. It was his choice.

The conviction was something new. And a little unsettling.

At Jennifer’s core, she knew she wasn’t evil. Knew she didn’t yearn to harm others, so it was something else that kept her former tendencies at bay. And she found it in the mirror. In the woman looking back.

She saw Kylie in her own reflection. Saw herself four years ago in a drug lord’s house in Guatemala, begging to be saved. Begging for anyone to come and destroy the men who’d held her, to rescue her before they physically took from her everything she had. That day, handcuffed half naked and nearly catatonic, about to be forced into unspeakable acts, she’d prayed for a miracle. What had shown up was Pike.

And he had exacted every bit of punishment she had fervently wished for.

What Pike was doing now might not be legal, but it was just. And she would do what she could to help. She looked back into the mirror, remembering the terror. Understanding what Kylie was experiencing.

We’re coming. We’ll find you.

She reentered the den to find McFadden sitting on a dingy stool, his face swelling and fear oozing from him like pus from a blister. Pike sat across from him, in a chair turned backward, his arms on the backrest. He said, “Get me the address, and we’ll be gone.”

Pike saw her and said, “Anything?”

“No. Other than the fact that he’s trying to re-create the Black Plague.”

McFadden started scribbling on a napkin, and Pike stood. McFadden handed him the address and looked at her with apprehension.

She said, “Don’t worry. We don’t care about your indoor gardening.”

Relief flitted across his face. Pike said, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. You ready to go? Or you want to pound the crap out of him?”

McFadden cringed, realizing she wasn’t an ally. Pike scowled, saying, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiled, disarming his aggravation. “Just teasing. We have everything we’re going to get?”

McFadden breathed a sigh of relief and said, “You’ve got all I’m going to give.”

Jennifer’s smile faded. “There’s more?”

McFadden shook his head rapidly, saying, “No, no. That’s not what I meant.”

She walked over to him and said, “This is no game. I was joking before, but this man will tear you apart for no other reason than he likes it.”