We sat there a while longer. Your cats stood guard—or rather laid guard—and I contemplated this situation with Carter. Before departing that day, I convinced Xavier to let me transport you to and from school that week. I could delay my next job for a few days.
During my surveillance of your interactions with Carter, I witnessed several disagreeable behaviors that verified your assessment of the boy’s character. Whenever you attempted to join their pack on the playground, he insisted you leave, using his size to intimidate you and at one point, shoving you away so hard that you fell backwards onto the concrete. It wasn’t the playful wrestling of boys in competition but a savage dismissal. The sag of your shoulders hurt my heart and stirred my lust for vengeance.
Then one morning when you were by yourself on the swings, but before his friends had arrived, Carter came over and sought your company. The two of you carried on a civil conversation, and the boy even chuckled in response to something you said. It was bewildering.
Later that afternoon when I picked you up from school, your lower lip was fat because he’d struck you.
I asked you to wait for me in the car.
“Are you going to talk to him?” you asked with a look of trepidation.
I nodded, forcing myself to remain calm.
“You shouldn’t, Henri. I put him in a bad mood.”
“It’s okay, Vincent. This will only take a minute, and then we’ll go get some ice cream.”
I found the young brute on the basketball court, surrounded by his peers. I came from behind and snatched the ball out of his hands as he was lifting it to shoot. He spun around, sweating from exertion, his face flush so that his freckles stood out amongst the thrush of color. I didn’t feed on children, but that didn’t mean their scent wasn’t just as alluring. I could only imagine how he tempted you, like a cooked ham. The knuckles on one of his hands were bandaged, likely the ones that had struck you. His school uniform appeared a size too small, as though he’d recently had a growth spurt, and from what I’d observed, he seemed quite comfortable using his size to intimidate others.
“Hello, Carter, I’d like to introduce myself.” I held out my hand. “My name is Henri. I’m a friend of Vincent’s. Do you know him?”
The boy nodded, moon-eyed. His friends all stepped backward, abandoning their leader. Carter’s heart rate spiked, and his sweating intensified, now flavored with fear.
“He’s… he’s in my class, but I don’t really know him.”
“Vincent is very special to me, as I’d imagine Rocky is special to you.” The boy’s eyes flared at my knowledge of his beloved pet. It hadn’t been difficult to obtain the information—you’d offered that and several other tidbits quite readily. “How would you feel if someone were to harm Rocky?”
“I… I wouldn’t like it.”
It seemed I wouldn’t need to go into any more detail than that. The boy was practically vibrating in terror.
“I wouldn’t like it either. And when I see you treat my friend Vincent poorly, it makes me so…” I paused, allowing the suspense to build. “Deeply upset.”
“I didn’t mean to hit him.” The boy swallowed. The vein in his neck throbbed with a strong, vibrant pulse. “I won’t do it again.”
I looked him over grimly, letting him think I might be debating whether or not I might exact retribution.
“I want you to do even better, Carter. I want you to invite Vincent to sit with you and your friends at lunch.”
The boy nodded eagerly. “Tomorrow. Or, Monday. Every day next week if he wants.”
“And I want you to apologize.”
Carter’s response was enthusiastic. “I will. I promise.”
I handed him back his ball and glowered at the other boys on the court. I’ll admit it wasn’t my finest moment, terrorizing school children, but it was in everyone’s best interest for Carter to treat you with respect.
When I rejoined you at the car, you only glanced at me sideways with a surreptitious look. “Was he mean to you?”
I shook my head. “I think he’s going to be a lot nicer to you from now on.”
During our car ride home, you wouldn’t stop fidgeting. I asked if you needed to use the restroom, and in an outpouring of emotion, you confessed to me that you’d teased Carter until he’d hit you.
I pulled over and laid a comforting hand on your shoulder because you were trembling. “Why would you do that, Vincent?”
You shook your head emphatically. “I don’t want to tell you, Henri. You’ll be mad at me.”
“I won’t be mad at you. I only want to help.”
