And there was Leo.
He was backed up against the short concrete parapet. Rick was laughing, holding Leo’s red Captain Comet backpack by the top strap, dangling it over the edge of the building.
"You want it, loser?" Rick sneered, shaking the bag over the void. "Reach for it."
"Give it back!" Leo sobbed, his voice breaking in panic. He stepped closer to the edge, standing on his tiptoes, his small hands reaching over the terrifying drop to grab the strap.
"Leo, stop!" I roared, my voice ripping out of my throat like thunder.
Rick’s head snapped toward me, his arrogant smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. But the distraction was all it took.
Leo leaned just a little too far. His worn-out sneakers slid on the loose gravel near the edge. His hands grasped empty air. In an instant, his center of gravity shifted forward, and he plummeted headfirst over the side of the building.
The laughter died in the teenagers' throats.
Time stopped.
I was already moving before Leo vanished over the edge. I sprinted across the forty feet of gravel faster than a man my size should be able to move. I hit the low concrete wall with my hips, ignoring the bruising impact, and threw my entire upper body over the side.
Leo was falling.
My massive right arm shot straight down. The air rushed past my face. My thick fingers caught the durable canvas fabric at the nape of his neck. The physical shock of his falling weight hitting the end of my reach wrenched my shoulder joint with excruciating force, but I didn't care if my arm ripped entirely out of its socket. My grip clamped down like a hydraulic press.
With a brutal, primal roar, I yanked my arm upward, hauling all forty-five pounds of my son back over the concrete lip. We collapsed backward onto the roof gravel.
Leo was screaming in terror, immediately scrambling to wrap his small arms tightly around my neck. I crushed him to my chest, breathing heavily, feeling his heart hammering violently against my collarbone.
"I got you," I whispered hoarsely into his hair. "I got you, buddy."
I stayed on my knees for a few seconds, holding him, letting the rush of adrenaline peak and stabilize. Then, the relief faded. It was replaced instantly by a cold, dark, absolute rage. The lockbox inside my mind—the one I had promised Clara I would never open again—blew completely off its hinges.
I stood up.
Rick, Tyler, and Bryce had frozen in place. They were staring at me, their faces completely drained of blood. Tyler was shaking visibly. They had expected to bully a helpless kid. They had expected the school janitor to be a pushover.
They didn't realize they had just triggered a predator.
I didn't yell. I didn't say a word. I just walked toward them, my heavy boots crunching steadily in the gravel. The dead, empty look in my eyes must have communicated exactly what I was capable of, because Bryce took one step backward and tripped over his own feet, falling hard onto his backside.
"Hey, man," Rick stammered, putting his hands up defensively, his voice cracking. "It was just a joke. He slipped. We were just messing around—"
I didn't stop.
I closed the distance, grabbed Rick by the thick lapels of his expensive varsity jacket, and lifted him entirely off his feet.
Rick let out a pathetic squeak as his feet left the ground. I slammed his back against the heavy steel safety railing that enclosed the upper HVAC units. The metal groaned in protest. I didn't strike him, but the pure kinetic force of the shove drove the wind completely out of his lungs.
"Please," Tyler whimpered, pressing his back against the wall, too terrified to run.
I shifted my grip on Rick. With one massive heave, I hoisted his 180-pound frame up and tipped him backward over the five-story railing.
I let go of his jacket.
As Rick fell, screaming in sheer terror, I clamped both of my hands around his right ankle like a vice. His momentum stopped with a violent jerk.
Rick Vance was now dangling upside down, suspended by one leg outside the railing, five floors above the hard concrete of the school courtyard. He was flailing wildly, clawing at the empty air, his expensive jacket falling open and his gold chain hanging down toward the ground.
"Pull me up!" Rick shrieked, his voice raw with panic, tears instantly streaming down his face as gravity pushed the color into his cheeks. "Please! Oh God, don't drop me!"
I leaned over the railing, looking down at his terrified, inverted face. My voice was eerily calm, contrasting with the howling wind.
"Look down," I commanded.