A lovely father
When the treatment was over, Tors' men tidied him up. Three of them had to pick him up off the ground. Mason's face was a mask of blood, but he had kept his mouth shut for all those who needed answers.
Tors had beaten him up good, like he used to do before his boxing career ended up in a wardrobe too deep to want to look at often, confined down there by two broken hands over a money story. The ex-boxer's arms fell at that moment along his sides, helpless, and a heavy breath lifted his massive chest. He had not been able to bend it, but Stone would not easily forget that night. Tors felt a kind of admiration for the man whose head fell limply forward: he was a real tough guy. He glanced at him again: lying on that cot, the back of his hand touching the floor, he looked lik
