Neverland Academy by Daelynn Quinn Read Free Book Online

investors out
there.”
    The
couple turned onto a one-way side street. The darkness enveloped them, only to
lift under an occasional street lamp.
    “Yes,
but none with the financial backing of the Richardsons,” Mrs. Werring sighed.
    “Don’t
worry. They need time to think it over. I’m sure they be ready to negotiate by
the end of next week.”
    Mr.
Werring wore his confidence almost as well as his perfectly manicured blond
hair. Mrs. Werring didn’t really need his reassurance; she was as headstrong as
he, if not more so. But like any red-blooded human, she reveled in hearing it.
Her poise diminished however, under a red neon sign that read “Jagger’s” in
sloppy cursive. Her heels stopped clacking.
    “Darling?”
    Mr.
Werring pulled back. “What is it?”
    She
didn’t say a word. Simply pointed at the silver BMW Z3 parked just three feet
away from them. She didn’t need to see the license plate to confirm it was her
car. She could see the antique key hanging from the rearview mirror. It was a
key Mr. Werring had given to her as a wedding gift. An heirloom passed down
through generations of his family. There was no other like it.
    Mr.
Werring’s face wrinkled with rage. He stomped around the car, looking for
scratches and dents. Lucky for Daphne there weren’t any. However, she wouldn’t
be that lucky, considering they’d discovered her little stunt.
    Just
as he’d looked up at the entrance of the club, Daphne came stomping out,
searching her purse for the car keys, followed closely by the bouncer. When she
finally looked up, keys in her fingers, her eyes widened with terror in the
bewildered stare of her parents. A stare that turned so icy it could have
created glaciers in the Caribbean.
                
     
                   

 
    Chapter
Five
      That Boy
     
                       
    Flashes of white light pranced from side
to side and top to bottom, in the dank, brick-lined tunnels underneath
Neverland Academy. Bare feet—three sets of them—pounded in
whispers, setting an ominous rhythm to the silent catacombs. The air
underground was cool, almost chilly, a welcome respite from the scorching
August sizzle of the Georgia summer. The musty odor made no matter to the
boys—they didn’t smell so fresh themselves. A shower was a real treat to
the outcast boys of Neverland Academy.
    Finn
was in the lead, wearing a crudely made headband with a small flashlight
attached at the top with duct tape. Following him were a ginger-haired boy a
little shorter than him, but strong statured like a wrestler, and a lanky boy
with sloppily cut blond hair and indiscernible eyebrows. They heaved heavily,
not so much because of the running, but to help them to stifle the laughter
that was bursting from within. They were under the administration office now,
and voices carried too easily in that particular run of the tunnel.
    Finn
led the boys into a small, dark cellar that jutted out from the tunnel. He
erupted into a fit of raucous laughter. His companions joined him in the
humorous howling.
    “That
was epic, guys,” Finn spat between guffaws.
    Once
he’d caught his breath Finn fumbled around in a corner, switching on a
battery-operated camping lantern. The small room glowed with a faded amber hue,
revealing hidden cubbies built into the walls, about a foot tall and the length
of a human body. Stuffed inside many of them were wads of blankets and clothes.
Others held a range of objects from board games to packaged food, most of which
were considered by adults to be junk: Twinkies, Cheetos, potato chips, granola
bars, and enough Oreos to feed the entire academy staff and students.
    “That
was beyond epic,” said the red-haired boy as he ripped open a bag of Cheetos
and began devouring the neon orange nuggets by the handful.
    “Pass
them over, Trick,” said the tall boy. He sat down on the floor, leaning his
back against the wall and stretched out his arm. Trick pulled out one