Brazen Virtue

Wight coughed into his hand again. “Though the severity of the attack can’t be condoned, we are willing to hear Jerald’s side of the story before we take disciplinary action. I assure you, Senator, we do not suspend students out of hand.”
    “Well then?”
    “Jerald has refused to explain.”
    Hayden bit off a sigh. He was paying several thousand dollars a year to have Jerald seen to properly, and this man didn’t have the capability to draw an explanation out of a high school senior. “If you’d give us a few moments alone, Dean Wight?”
    “Of course.” He rose, only too glad to distance himself from the silent, cool-eyed stare of the senator’s son.
    “Dean—” Hayden’s authoritative voice stopped him at the door. “I’m sure I can rely on your discretion in this matter.”
    Wight was very aware of the generous contributions the Haydens had made to St. James’s over the last four years. He was also aware of how easily a candidate’s personal life could destroy his political one. “School problems remain in the school, Senator.”
    Hayden rose as soon as Wight left the room. It was an automatic gesture, even an ingrained one. Standing simply emphasized his authority. “All right, Jerald. I’m ready to hear your explanation.”
    Jerald, his hands resting lightly on his thighs as he’d been taught, looked up at his father. He saw more than a tall, vigorously handsome man. He saw a king, with blood on his sword and justice on his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?” Jerald asked mildly.
    Hayden stared. If his son had risen and slapped his face he would have been no less shocked. “I beg your pardon?”

    “It’s none of his business what we do,” Jerald continued in the same reasonable tone. “He’s only a fat little weasel who sits behind a desk and pretends to be important. He doesn’t know anything about the way things really are. He’s insignificant.”
    Jerald’s tone was so polite, his smile so genuine, that Hayden found himself staring again. “Dean Wight is the head of this institution and, as long as you’re enrolled in St. James’s, deserves your respect.”
    As long as he was enrolled. One more month. If his father wanted to wait a few weeks before fixing Wight’s ass, Jerald could be patient. “Yes, sir.”
    Relieved, Hayden nodded. The boy was obviously quite upset, perhaps even suffering from a touch of shock. Hayden hated to press him, but answers were necessary. “Tell me about your run-in with Lithgow.”
    “He was bugging me.”
    “Apparently.” Hayden felt on more solid ground here. Young boys had an excess of energy and often took it out on each other. “I take it he initiated the incident?”
    “He kept riding me. He was an idiot.” Impatient, Jerald started to squirm, then caught himself. Control. His father demanded control. “I warned him to get off my back; it was only fair to warn him.” Jerald smiled at his father. For a reason he couldn’t name, Hayden felt his blood chill. “He said if I didn’t have a date for the Graduation Ball he had a cousin with a clubfoot. I wanted to kill him right then; I wanted to smash his pretty face in.”
    Hayden wanted to believe it was a young boy’s anger, a young boy’s words, but he couldn’t. Not quite. “Jerald, raising your fists isn’t always the answer. We have a system, we have to work within it.”

    “We run the system!” Jerald flung his head up. His eyes. Even his father saw that his eyes were wild, rabid. Then the shutters came down again. Hayden could convince himself, had to convince himself he’d imagined it. “I told him, I told him I didn’t want to go to any prissy school dance to drink punch and cop a few feels. He laughed. He shouldn’t have laughed at me. He said maybe I didn’t like girls.” On a low chuckle, Jerald wiped the spittle from his lips. “And I knew I was going to kill him. I told him I didn’t like girls. I liked women. Real women. Then I hit him so that blood spurted out of his nose all over his pretty face. And I kept hitting him.” Jerald continued to smile as his father’s face whitened. “I didn’t blame him for being jealous, but he shouldn’t have laughed at me. You’d have been proud of the way I punished him for laughing.”
    “Jerald …”
    “I could have killed them all,” Jerald continued. “I could have, but I didn’t. It wouldn’t have been worth it, would it?”
    For one trembling moment, Hayden thought he