Searching for Mine (Searching For #4.5) Read Free Page A

purchases down and walked over to the crew. “Practicing for prison?” he drawled. He stood in front of them with his arms crossed casually, an intimidating stare on his face. Like clockwork, the three of them looked at each other, their faces reflecting wariness and a coward’s fear. Yeah, the bullies were only strong together. Break them up and they were helpless. “Here. Let me help you.”
    The boy on the ground ignored his outstretched hand and dragged himself to his feet. No tears shone in his dark eyes, but his skin was mottled red, and his lower lip trembled slightly. Still, pure rebellion reflected in his face and attitude. His dark hair was cut too short, emphasizing a wicked cowlick in the front, and he was skinny and all legs. A thin trickle of blood dripped down his arm. Probably a scraped elbow. He wore a red sweatshirt with the Captain America logo, athletic pants, and some type of expensive looking sneakers. Connor respected him wanting to handle the situation himself, especially at his age. What was he, about nine? Ten?
    “We weren’t doing nothing,” the lead gangster replied. “He fell off his bike.”
    The boy didn’t deny it. He stared at the bullies with a fierce resentment that shimmered in the air. His hands clenched into tight fists, but he didn’t move, just shifted back and forth on his feet.
    “Convenient. Give me the DS.”
    “It’s mine!” lead gangster whined.
    Connor looked at the kid but he didn’t claim the DS. Keeping a stubborn silence, he met the gangster’s gaze and refused to back down.
    Connor shook his head. “Tough. I’m claiming the DS. I’ve been dying to try out some games so it’s now mine.”
    The boys looked at him as if he’d gone nuts, and Connor used their shock to smoothly snatch the DS from the bully’s hand. “You can’t do that!” the second gangster cried. “That’s stealing.”
    “Guess I’ll be sharing a jail cell with you one day, huh? Listen up. Next time you think you’re gonna have a bit of fun at some younger kid’s expense, remember this. I can find each of you alone and make you regret it. Got it?”
    The leader stepped back. “Whatever. Come on, guys. Let’s get out of here.”
    They trudged away in their ragtag group. Connor picked up the bike from the ground and thrust out the DS. “Here you go. No thanks necessary, kid.”
    “I didn’t need your help,” the boy hissed in fury. Connor jerked back at the frustration glinting from his brown eyes. “I had it handled. You screwed up everything, dude! Now they’re gonna be looking for me cause they think I’m a wuss!”
    Connor blinked. “Are you kidding me? You would’ve gotten beat up. I’ve seen those kids around and they don’t play nice. Trust me, they won’t mess with you anymore.”
    The boy yanked back the DS and his bike, shoving his backpack over his arm. “Whatever.”
    Connor rolled his eyes. “When did that word make a comeback? I mean, really?”
    The kid didn’t answer, just shook his head and dragged his bike toward the building next door. Huh. Guess he was a new neighbor. Connor hadn’t seen any moving trucks, but he hoped the grumpy old man was finally gone. Anyone was better than a grizzled man who sat on the front stoop and bellowed at strangers on the street, drinking cheap whiskey from a brown paper bag. Even a surly kid.
    Connor watched the red door shut and turned back to his own place. Maybe he should knock on the door this weekend and introduce himself. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but the location was prime for commuting to Manhattan and keeping rents low. Other than the band of bullies who haunted the streets, there weren’t drugs or gangs. Just a bunch of older stone buildings with ancient plumbing, leaky windows, and pothole-ridden streets.
    Still worked for him.
    Connor trudged inside and reheated his dinner. The interior of his apartment didn’t reflect the shabby exterior. He’d updated the original dull beige walls and