“To be completely honest with you, Gil, my best guess up to now was that you’d crawled back to that shit-hole little mountain town you saved in the war. You know, back to where they still think you’re some kind of hero and don’t mind you buggering their sons.”
“Oh, they mind, Poppy.” A thin smile. “Even there, even where they owe me their lives, they mind. But what are they going to do about it? You can’t control a son the way you control a daughter. Can’t just lock him in the house or beat him to a pulp like you can with your wife. Not once he gets older than about fifteen, anyway. Too much chance he’ll hit you right back.”