Leo walked over, his eyes wide as he looked at the tools of a kidnapper scattered in the back of the car. He felt a wave of nausea hit him. If he hadn't walked across the street, if he had just stayed on his bench, one of those kids would be in that van right now.
"Is this the car?" Jax asked.
"Yes," Leo whispered. "That's him."
Jax turned back to the driver, who was now weeping, begging for mercy. Jax didn't hit him. He didn't need to. He simply looked at the man with a disgust so deep it felt like a physical weight. "You're going to sit right here," Jax said, "and you're going to wait for the police because this time they're going to listen. And if you even think about moving, if you even look at those kids again, my brothers aren't going to be this polite."
Jax turned to his brothers. "Mike, call that sergeant we know over at the fourth precinct. Tell him we've got a gift for him. Tell him a homeless kid did his job for him today."
As the sirens began to wail in the distance, the parents in the park started to realize what had happened. Mothers clutched their children, looking at the SUV and then at the bikers. A silence fell over Miller Park. A silence of profound realization. The scary men in leather had been the only ones watching over their families.