Sherrilyn Kenyon - Invincible

All right. For once he was wrong. A wave of pride filled him. That was saying something, since this was one of the best schools in the country, never mind the state of Louisiana, and harder than even Ben Franklin High to get into. “No.” They’d told him he’d done really well and given him a full scholarship, but no one had ever told him that he’d scored perfect on it. Wow. No wonder his mom got so bent whenever she thought he was slacking off.

“But that wasn’t what I found the most fascinating. It’s your other record I want to talk to you about.”

His stomach shrank. Here it comes. …

Loser. Dork. Your family history blows. You have no hope for a future, so we might as well throw you out now, right into the gutter that spawned you. He’d heard it all more times than he could count and from more people than he could name. Peters in particular had taken a sadistic pleasure in letting him know that he had no future whatsoever.

“Last year alone,” the coach continued, “you were in thirty-five fights. Thirty-five. Kid, that has to be a record. When you take out the days you were absent, it’s like one every third day you’re in school. The fact that you’re still a student here, even with your exemplary test scores and grades, is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard of. I’ve taught at a lot of schools over the years and never have I seen anyone who was a worse troublemaker. Truly impressive.”

That annihilated every bit of pride Nick’d temporarily had. He knew it looked bad, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. He didn’t care when they insulted him, which was pretty much hourly, it was when they went after his mom that it was on like Donkey Kong . Unfortunately, Stone knew that, and so they relentlessly called his mom names and said horrifying things about her and her character. In spite of a few mistakes that everyone made, his mom was a saint, and he’d bust anyone who said differently—which apparently happened every third day he was in school.

Sighing, Nick held the jersey out. “Guess you want this back.”

The coach refused to take it. “No. I have another proposition for a boy with your unique … skills.”

Nick didn’t need his pendulum or his book to see where this was going. His gut said he wouldn’t like it, and when the coach spoke, he confirmed that suspicion. Loudly.

“I have a group of boys who do favors for me. I’d like for you to join our elite group.”

Oh yeah, right. No thank you. There were some groups he wanted no part of, and this sounded like one that needed to be at the top of his never list. “Dude, I don’t do nothing perverse. In fact—”

“Nothing like that, Nick.” He held the Nintendo up. “We procure things.”

No flippin’ way … The coach was part of that ?

It wasn’t possible. Why would he do such a thing?

Then again, the thefts hadn’t started until the coach had come on board. Given that, it freakishly made sense. A supplemental income for an underpaid staffer. All the teachers he knew complained about their pay, and most looked for other ways to augment their income.

This was over the top, however.

“You steal,” Nick accused.

The coach screwed his face up. “That’s such an ugly word. We merely procure and borrow. After all, people never return what they borrow anyway, and the snobby rich kids here have so much, they don’t even appreciate it. Mummy and Daddy will replace their stuff without a second thought, and file claims with their insurance. It’s what it’s for, right? Think of it like Robin Hood. You’re alleviating the rich of wealth they don’t deserve and are giving it to those in need. Us.”

Nick shook his head at the manure the coach was spreading. Semantics couldn’t couch it. This was theft, pure and simple. There was no justifying it. Taking was taking, and it was wrong. His mother had raised him better than that. “Forget it. I’m not a thief.” He started to leave, but the coach stopped him.

“You will help us, Gautier. If you don’t, I’ll make sure the next item found in your locker carries a much longer jail sentence than this.” He wiggled the Nintendo in Nick’s face. “And with Principal Dick just itching to call the cops and have a scapegoat to placate the angry parent phone calls demanding he catch his thief, no one will mourn your sacrifice.”

Nick felt his panic rise. He knew it was the truth. The people at this school wouldn’t bat an eyelash to see him go and would think it was his just desserts to be brought down as a criminal. No one would ever believe he, the poorest kid in school, hadn’t been desperate enough to do it. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. Everyone here already thinks you’re a liar and a thief. Ninety percent of the students and a hundred percent of the faculty are convinced you cheated to get in. Given that, do you really think they’d believe you over me? After all, seeing is believing.”

Nick wanted to deny it, but he knew the truth. Many of his classmates hated him. And those who did would love to see him tossed out on his rump. To have him go to jail would be the bonus round.

That would kill his mother.

Don’t ever go to jail, Nicky. Whatever you do, don’t be like your father. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to see you come to that end. She said that to him so much that it kept a constant earworm going in his head.

“Why would you do this to me?”

The coach gave a cruel smirk. “Because you have the skills I need. I have a list of items and a very short time to gather them. If I fail, you won’t like what happens to you. That I promise. But if you help … I will reward you greatly.”

Why would he need Nick’s help to steal? “What? You got a gambling problem or something?”

“You’re a smart kid. This is one debt I have to pay and one I will do anything to meet. You help me and I’ll help you.”

And if he didn’t, the jerk would send him to juvie. He shuddered at the very thought.

Then an idea hit him. “What if I borrowed the money you need? You could pay back your loan sharks or bookie or whoever, and everyone would be happy.”

The coach shook his head. “My items are very specific. Money won’t do either of us any good, and it won’t pay my debt. Or keep you out of jail.”

“Look, I don’t want to be a thief.”

“Fine. As I said, borrow them. I don’t care how you get what I need so long as all the items are in my possession and they are the exact, and I do mean exact, items on my list from the people I tell you to take them from. You understand? There can be no substitutions whatsoever.”

Nick nodded. If he could borrow them, that wouldn’t be so bad. Except he knew the coach wouldn’t return them.…

Man, how did he get into these things?

The coach handed him a folded-up piece of paper. “You have six days, Gautier. After that, I’m going to make Mr. Head very happy where you’re concerned.”

Fabulous.

Nick watched as the coach left. His heart pounding, he unfolded the paper and read it. Stunned, he felt his jaw go slack over what the coach wanted him to take from his classmates. But one item in particular leapt out at him.

The coach wanted him to steal Nekoda’s solitaire diamond necklace.

No way. I won’t do it. He had no intention of hurting Kody. Not in any way or form. He wouldn’t do it.

The coach could roast, for all he cared.

And he held that resolve tight until his sixth period, when the police came and arrested Dave Smithfield out of their classroom.

Dave cried like a baby while they handcuffed him and read him his rights. “I don’t do drugs. I swear it! Someone planted that in my locker. I’m telling the truth. Why won’t you believe me? I didn’t do it. I didn’t!”