I Can't

Breakdown

He pulls out a badge for the FBI from his back pocket.
"You're here... from t-the FBI?", I ask.
"Your father is wanted on multiple murder charges, and by the looks of you, domestic violence.", he explains. "No offense."
"None taken. Murder? My father? How many victims?"
"13. Mainly adults, but 1 was 6-months, and 3 others were teens."
I gasp. My father killed a 6-month
year old child? And 3 teens that I could know?
"Does your father beat you?", the man asks.
"Yes, everyday. That's what he expects you to be doing now."
"Tell me what he does, then me and my son will bust his ass." I stifle a laugh at that.
Wait, his son? Damnnit, Cole.
"He punches me, kicks me, and if I cry or make noise, I don't get a meal, or blankets, or something like that." I can feel red hot tears building up in my eyes. My cheeks are either getting red or going pale.
The man pulls me into the biggest hug ever. I hug back and start to cry.
"Shh, shh, shh. Don't cry. I'll go out there and makes sure he never see the light of day again.", he says, soothingly.
He releases me from his grip and starts to saunter towards the den.