Page 6 of In You
Caleb
Present Day
Iftheyweren'tsuchdiseased fucks I would eat the hearts of my kills like hunters do their prey after successful slaughter. And as I stare at the profile of the man that I'm using to bait my latest mark, I imagine the way his hot blood would fill my mouth and flow down my tongue. It would taste like vindication, success, and revenge.
I just know it.
Narrowing my eyes at him pretending to shop in this aisle so that he can get an eye fill of a young girl a few feet away, I stop daydreaming about removing his skin from his body, and instead work to put my plan into action.
He looks like any unassuming pedophile would. Normal.
Nice dark jeans, fancy shoes, watch with a nice band. Boasting a smile that's American magazine worthy, with a laugh to match. I pull up the hood to my hunter green sweater, put my phone in one hand while tucking my other hand in my pocket.
Keeping my movements unhurried I walk near him, making sure to stumble into him when I go by.
"Oh, shit,"I curse, reaching out to grab his arm and look down into his face as I work to right myself. "My bad, man. You okay? I didn't see you there."
Unpeturbed, he gives me a nod before sliding his eyes back to the end of the aisle where the girl stands looking bored out of her mind despite her head buried in her phone. My chest tightens painfully at the hungry look in his face that he doesn't even attempt to mask. Though honestly, predators can never hide. It's like it's just not possible.
They can't help but be outwardly sick.
I give him a little grin and then inconspicuously tilt my head towards the younger than legal girl that's on the other side of the aisle with her mom, who, like all kids her age, can't seem to know how to dress right for anything. Her shorts are riding up her butt, and she's in a fucking hoodie and thin sandals. It'sSeptember.
What the fuck is her mother thinking?
I fight to not glare at the older woman judgmentally, not wanting my inner feelings to overtake the real reason I'm here right now.
"She's sexy, huh?" I breathe on a little conspiratorial chuckle. "Maannn, I'd tear her ass up all day everyday."
His eyes flit to me and then he spends a second really looking at me. I fold my arms and keep my gaze on hers, even going so far as to give the mom a little head nod when she turns her eyes to look at me. Joseph huffs a little laugh, and then grabs a jar of jam off the shelf to put in his cart. "Like 'em young?"
"I like 'em jailbait type, if you know what I mean," I respond with a small grin, praying that he'll buy my act.
Joseph chuckles, giving me another assessing look. "You got a name?"
"Lance," I lie, holding out my hand for him to shake.
The minute his skin touches mine, my skin starts crawling with disgust and it's all I can do to give his sick fuck a normal handshake. He's got a firm grip, and is a bit too humorous and stupid for my liking, but I need to use him to get to my mark so I deal with it. "Joseph," he replies.
I knew that from running his plates when I saw him coming out of my mark's house one night, buthedoesn't know that. I've been casing the place, because there's a woman there I don't know, and I can't kill an innocent person.
It's Frank's rule number 2.
For the first time I debate breaking that rule, beyond ready to be done with this. But something stops me. A semblance of a conscience, if you will. Or my fear of Frank, I don't know. So I patiently wait to get intel on this woman. It's taking a lot longer than I'm comfortable with because the problem is, I have not one single piece of identity on her to verify who she is, or how involved she is in this pedo ring.
"Nice to meet you," I say in a light tone.
"You too," he says, flicking his gaze down my body curiously. "So, what's the youngest you've tried?"
My mind immediately goes somewhere else, thinking about my youngest kill. They were seventeen, and my nine hundred and tenth kill. If everything goes my way, Joseph, the apricot-jam-eating pedophile, will be my one hundredth, thirteen thousand and eighty second kill.
Yeah…I know.
I scrunch my brows, acting like I'm really thinking about it. "Fourteen," I lie. I couldn't even imagine. It makes me physically sick just thinking about it.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes and bumping my shoulder with his. "Amateur. You wanna hang out with the big dogs?"
I eye him, forcing what I hope is a creepy smile. "How big are we talking?"
