Page 8 of The Thief
We walked down the street and turned into an alleyway, where we saw a group of three lads about our age hanging out. Adam stopped and put his arms out, indicating we should stop too.
“Wait,” he said, moving to stand in the shadow of the fence beside us. “Let’s see what they do.”
The three lads hadn’t seen us yet, and we stood watching, waiting for whatever Adam wanted us to see.
Then, a gate in the fence opened, and a small lad stepped out, probably no more than ten or eleven years old. He was thin and scrawny, wore glasses, and held a pile of books as he started to walk off with his head down.
And then he stopped.
His body went rigid as he spotted the three lads.
He went to turn and walk the other way, but one of the boys ran in front to stop him from leaving. Then they all circled him, and I knew exactly what was going on.
“These fuckers have been targeting boys from ParkersAcademy,” Adam whispered, and looking at me, he added, “You know what kind of school that is, don’t you? A school with kids who, most of the time, can’t speak up or defend themselves.” He nodded to the group in front of us. “They choose the weakest to pick on and do fucked-up shit to make themselves feel tough. We’re here to show them they’re not. To tell them it stops. Today.”
One of the lads pushed the boy, knocking him over, making his glasses fall to the ground and his books sprawl everywhere. They all laughed as the lad scrabbled around trying to find his glasses. Then, one of them stepped forward, crunching the boy’s glasses under his boot, cracking the lenses. Smirking, he bent down to pick them up and threw them in the boy’s lap.
The boy’s hands shook as he picked them up, and even though they were cracked, he still put them on. “My mum’s gonna kill me,” we heard him say in a quiet, timid voice.
“Not if we kill you first,” the lad who’d broken the glasses threatened.
They all found that way too funny, laughing like a pack of hyenas. Then one of them undid the zip on his jeans and started to piss on the boy’s books on the floor. The boy scuttled backwards, pushing his broken glasses up his nose and stumbling as he tried to stand up and get away. But when another lad balled his fist and smacked the boy in the face, making the metal frame of his glasses cut into him and blood trickle down his nose, Adam darted forward.
“I’ve seen enough. Oi, fuckers!” Adam shouted as he raced ahead, with us on his tail. “If you’re gonna hit anyone, you hit me.”
The lads turned around, their bravado still in place as theykept the tough guy looks on their faces and their fists clenched, ready to fight.
“You need to fuck off and mind your own business,” the one who’d punched the boy snarled.
“And you need to apologise for being fucking animals and give this boy the money you owe him.”
They all screwed their faces up in disgust.
“We don’t owe him shit,” the one who’d pissed on his books snorted.
Adam took a step forward to stand toe-to-toe with him. “And I say you do. You took your pimple dick out and pissed all over his books. You ruined them and you need to pay.” Adam cocked his head to the side. “Or, we can make you pay in other ways.”
“What makes you think we’ll listen to you?” the lad who’d stomped on his glasses piped up.
“Because.” Colton stepped up. “If you don’t”—he pulled a knife from his pocket and held up it—“I’ll show you how creative I can be with this.”
My heart started to beat double time, and I knew the three lads were weighing up their options. It was glaringly obvious in the way they swallowed nervously, their eyes darting about, and their bodies becoming twitchy as they, no doubt, contemplated their escape. When I glanced to the side, I saw Devon take a knife out and Will followed suit. Adam just stood his ground, staring them down like he could take them out with one look. He didn’t need a knife to make his point.
“We don’t have any money,” the pissing lad stated, and in that instant, I knew exactly what my role was here.
I stepped quietly to the side, moving closer to that lad, and withouthim knowing a thing, I managed to pull his wallet from his pocket.
“I think you’ll find what you need in there,” I said, throwing the wallet to Adam for him to catch.
Adam caught it and opened it up, taking a twenty out and handing it to the boy still cowering on the floor, as the lad I’d stolen it from muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath.
“Get going,” Adam told the young lad as he reached forward, took his arm, and helped him to stand up. “And if you have any more trouble from any of these fuckers again, you come and tell me. Adam Noble. Are you gonna remember that name?” he asked, and the boy nodded, unblinking, his mouth open as he took the twenty, looking utterly shellshocked.
On shaky legs, the boy stumbled, then started to walk away. Seconds later, that walk turned into a run down the alley, as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Then he disappeared out of sight.
“Something tells methey’llremember your name,” Will said, gesturing to the three lads, and Adam huffed, throwing the now empty wallet into the puddle of piss on the floor.
“If they don’t, we’ll carve it into their fucking foreheads,” Colton sneered.
