91 Hard to Resurface (1/2)

”You beat them up?” She nodded. ”How many women did you save, you think?” I asked. This was the best method to make him confess to the most violence without making him think I was pinning a crime on him. He was saving people, that was what my words conveyed.

”Not enough,” he sighed, aggrieved. ”I once beat up a group of four guys. Made them remember what it feels like to be tormented.” He scoffed. ”Do you know about it?” he asked, looking up curiously.

”I'm not sure I do,” I played it safe. I didn't know if my knowledge would make him stop speaking or not. ”Tell me. Do you get angry when women are assaulted?”

”Yes, it makes my blood boil. Those fuckers need to be taught a lesson. Our justice system and police force are so inefficient that they can't even punish people. Someone needs to!” He banged his fist on the table.

”Why are you so passionate about this? Most men are stumbling over their feet trying to talk about how not all men are predatory. Why are you so different?” I asked. This was a question I needed answers to. What was his motivation?

”I had a crush on this girl in high school. A couple of jocks thought she was ignoring them. They killed her after raping her. It went on for hours...” he trailed off, tears prickling in his eyes.

I sat stunned. He said someone else did it. He didn't mention he did it. Was this evasion of truth or... I looked at his expression and grew more confused.

”You sound like you saw it happen,” I whispered. I leaned forward, reaching out and placing my hand over his fist. ”You can tell me.” The conviction in my voice must have made him feel comfortable.

”No, I wasn't there. I just know... that's how it happened.” A sob ripped through him.

”And what happened to those boys?” I asked. He was not lying. He was not lying, but he was definitely present at the scene of the crime. He wasn't a very good liar, but these words he was saying... he truly believed them. He really thought he was not there at the scene. But he also knew the details.

”Nothing,” he spat. ”Their daddies got them a free card out of punishment.”

My mind wandered. Should I keep pressing him to understand why he didn't mention being at the scene or get a confession about the serial killings?

”That must have hurt. Did you get to tell her that you liked her?” I asked. My hands were slightly trembling and I tried to control them as best as I could.