Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon

her talking with Menyara until he heard his name mentioned.
    "You think this mess will stunt his growth, Mennie?"
    Menyara laughed. "No, chere. Your boy's going to be a fine, tall man one day. I promise you."
    "I don't know. My dad was awfully short. Barely five foot four. I know Nick's taller than that now, but I'm scared to death he's going to stop growing and be a munchkin like me."
    "That's 'cause you're Cajuns, child. You're supposed to be short. Be weird if you weren't. ButAdarian's a tall, handsome man and his boy's going to be just like him in looks. Trust me."
    Those words made Nick's blood run cold.
    Adarian Malachai was his father and he was a monster. The mere mention of his name conjured up an image of a giant, hulking beast of a man in prison threads, covered in heavy tattoos. Nick had never seen the man when he hadn't been snarling at everyone around him and shoving people who got near him--including Nick's mom.
    Angry, bitter, and rude, his father was a rare piece of work and he was glad his mother hadn't married him and given Nick his last name. Even though his Gautier grandparents didn't want anything to do with them, he still preferred having their name to Adarian's.
    Malachai. Heck, he didn't even like the way it sounded. Bleh.
    Nick raised his voice to speak so that they'd hear him. "I'd rather be short, fat, and ugly than take after that man."
    His mother sighed. "That man is your father and you're supposed to be asleep, young man. Not listening in on our private conversation."
    What did she expect when all that separated them was a thin blue blanket? "And you're not supposed to be talking about me where I can hear it. You always told me that was rude."
    They laughed.
    "Go to sleep, Nick."
    Go to sleep, Nick, he mouthed, mocking an order that was easier said than done. Especially since his pain meds had worn off and his shoulder was throbbing like fire again. But he didn't want to take any more. That stuff made him too groggy and ill feeling. He'd rather hurt than be a zombie.
    Besides, if he acted like a zombie, Bubba might mistake him for a hallucination and shoot him.
    Rule One, boy: shoot first then ask questions.
    Rule Two: Double tap just for good measure. Better safe than sorry.
    Nick smiled at Bubba's laws until he looked up at their stained ceiling and wondered just how miserable tomorrow would be at school.
    Blinking back the agony, he pulled Nekoda's Nintendo out of his front pocket. He didn't know why, but just touching it made him feel better. Like he had someone in the world watching out for him.
    How stupid was that?
    He turned it on and kept the sound off. His mom had no idea he had this. She'd probably flip out if she did and he couldn't really play it with only one hand anyway. Still, he liked the thought of having it. It made him feel special. Like he was connected to someone not related to him.
    Like a girl might actually like him as something more than just a friend.
    He wanted the courage to ask her to go and just have a beignet with him after school. But so far he hadn't been able to do much more than thank her for checking on him while he'd been in the hospital--which she'd done every time she had a shift. He'd looked forward to each and every one of those visits like a starving beggar getting his one meal a day.
    It was hard, man, to get up the courage to ask her something so personal. He didn't want to be rejected and he knew better than to reach for the stars--which was what she was. A bright, perfect star who made him laugh whenever she came near.
    And he was a loser. Dont put yourself out there unless you want to get shot down. He'd been taken down enough by his classmates; he wasn't about to give Kody the chance to kick his teeth in. At this point, he was lucky she'd even talked to him in the hospital. No doubt tomorrow she'd be just like all the other cool, rich kids and pretend he was invisible.
    Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity for even considering the thought of