"I don't know how anyone can hurt a kid, let alone repeatedly." Quentin watched as Tanner dozed back off still with the juice bottle in his mouth, so he carefully removed it and replaced it again with his pacifier. He wasn't one of those kids with it permanently in his mouth, he only liked it when he wasn't feeling good or was really upset. "It takes some evil fucking cunt of a person to keep hurting an innocent kid like that and they deserved to be in jail getting beaten and raped, or fucking six feet under for all I care. He's fucking two years old and he's been abused over and over as some sort of fucked up smoke screen of her drug dealing to throw the cops off the scent. And you know the worst part? If Nate hadn't seen the signs of abuse and reported it, the cops might never have intervened and arrested her, and it would all still be happening to him. It makes me physically sick. Which means, he probably would've ended up just like Justin, or having a drug habit before he was 10 years old if the cunt didn't kill him."

He just felt uncomfortable now. Was it any surprise he wanted to pull the plug on everything and go it alone when these people were telling him they weren't judging him, but their actual words said otherwise? Gen had just offered, in a nutshell, a watered down version of 'Well, Kevin has the money and knows all the people, so why not let him get the job done?'. The epitome of a deduction of someone who had plenty of money and using it to their advantage at their disposal. He shifted carefully in his seat and looked down at the linoleum with a brooding frown on his face. "I don't need anyone doing my fucking dirty work, thank you very much."