“Why? Why would he leave everything? Be what he is? It’s disgusting,” I whisper.
“We will never understand why anyone would hurt kids. Something is wrong with him. It’s our job today to make sure westop him from causing any more pain.” He cups my thigh and squeezes. I press my hand to his. “He’s coming back.”
“He’s nothing like the world portrays as an abuser.” He looks like a soccer dad.
“Because he doesn’t want the world to see him that way. He doesn’t think of himself in that way.” Ezra waits a moment before easing out of the parking space. “In his mind, he has numerous reasons why his actions are justified.”
“You know a lot about it.” We continue to drive, keeping the van in sight.
“I’ve watched men like him for years. Before I started doing this, I took some classes and studied the minds of killers and abusers. I wanted to understand just as you do, but in the end, there is no one answer for every killer. Some are born with the need to cause pain, others are the product of their life. Perhaps their father abused them, their mom, or the kids next door. Maybe they were bullied, and they snapped one day, and took their power back in a horrible way. The list can go on forever.” He keeps his eyes on the road, and I study his face. “There are crimes of passion, something happens in the moment, and that person does something they normally wouldn’t. I don’t chase them for the purpose of knowing what makes them tick, only to the point of knowing their routine. I want to eliminate them so they can’t do any more damage than they already have.” He growls low, and I look around.
“No.” The van is driving slowly through a school zone. “Ezra?”
“He’s scoping.” He parks across the street from the playground and beside a park.
“What do we do?” I squeeze his hand.
“We wait. He won’t take them now.”
“How do you know?” I ask as my mate eases to the curb.
“He hasn’t been in the area long. He needs to make a plan.” The asshole gets out and strolls into the park, sitting on the bench.
“He’s going to eat a fucking sandwich,” I grit out.
“Men like him don’t want to get caught. He doesn’t flaunt his sick ways because he wants to continue to do them. His light blue polo shirt, pressed slacks, and shiny shoes don’t advertise the killer underneath. Trust is his goal. If you weren’t in this vehicle with me and knew nothing about him, would you have a clue about the monster underneath?” he asks, never taking his focus off the man.
“No.” I know all about hiding the monster behind a shiny exterior.
“That’s what he wants. I think he’s been here for more than today,” he murmurs.
“How can you tell?”
“The way he walks. He’s sure of himself, so I think he’s sat on the same bench the past few days. He knows the routine of the school and the people walking through the park.” He drums his fingers on my knee. “He smiled at the woman walking by in jogging gear. It’s her routine to walk this way, at this time, and she recognized him.”
“And smiled at the monster,” I whisper.
“It’s so easy to never delve beneath the surface.”
“Ezra, we have to get him.”
“Mate, he won’t see tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
“Yes. I always get who I’m after.” We stare at each other for a moment. “I can take you home.”
“No. I want to be with you. Now that I know about him, I have to see him get what he deserves,” I say firmly.
He nods and looks away.
“He’s on the move,” he says quietly. We watch him smile at a child with their mother as he walks to his car, and I want to kill him in the street. “Patience, Foxy. There are too many witnesses. It won’t matter that we are stronger or justified when the cops come.”
“I’m not that patient.”
“That’s why you are with me. We rely on each other.” Once again, he keeps pace behind the man. “Are you hungry?”
“I can’t eat,” I say. Imagining a poor child in the man’s evil grasp has curbed my appetite.
