Page 69 of Amber Gambler

“Thanks.” She hopped down and skipped toward the rear of the truck. “Hey.” Her tone sharpened with a wary edge. “The ghost lady told me I could ride back here.”

The door across from me swung open before I could intervene, and Carter tossed Little in by her collar.

“Hey,” Little squeaked, indignant. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re not riding in the back again.” Carter thrust a plastic bag into her hands. “It’s not safe.”

“She’s right.” I rushed to smooth things over. “You should ride with us.”

“I was trying to,” she grumbled, unable to conceal her wonder at sitting inside a truck this nice.

“Those are for you, by the way.” Carter slammed the door then got behind the wheel. “Eat something.”

Oh, yeah. She had known about Little. This was proof positive.

Little peeled open the bag, peered inside, and her stomach rumbled loud enough for all to hear.

“I’m not hungry,” she lied, forcing herself to set the treats aside.

“I am.” I reached in and selected salt and vinegar chips. “These are my favorite.” I ate two, and her hunger as she watched clawed at me. “I’m old and have high sodium, though.” Anyone over thirteen was an adult to these kids. Someone my age was lucky they didn’t require a wheelchair to get around by their estimation. “Can you finish them for me? I don’t want them to go to waste.”

“I guess.” She snatched the bag and crammed a handful in her mouth. “For your health.”

“Oh man.” I checked the drink selection. “Way to go, Carter. You know I’m allergic to corn syrup.” I tsked at her. “Guess I can always give this soda to Harrow.”

“The caffeine is too much for my heart at my age.” He patted his chest. “How about you, Carter?”

“I’m a health nut.” She bit into a cheddar puff from some secret stash. “I never touch the stuff.”

“Guess we’ll have to throw it away then.” I slid it back into the bag. “Unless…” I pretended to just have come up with the idea. “Little, do you want it?”

“I don’t want to get old.” She snatched it, twisted off the cap, and drank half the bottle in one drag. “You guys can’t eat or drink any of the good stuff. Your lives really suck, huh?”

“Yeah.” Carter kept munching. “Totally.”

While Little was distracted, I shot a text to Josie.

>I’m bringing you a helper.

A flicker of concern tickled the edge of my mind, something Little had said bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

>>Oh. Now you’re talking to me?

All concerns for Little evaporated as I clenched my hand around my phone.

>You were being obnoxious.

>>Have you met me? It’s my default setting. Ask yourself why it got under your skin this time.

>>Or was skin the problem? You wished it was your hands sliding over…

There was more to the text, but I quit reading. Josie was in rare form today, and I didn’t have patience to deal with two children. I loved my sister, I did, but sometimes I was tempted to switch out jars of garden-fresh marinara in her pantry for store bought just to witness her horror upon tasting it.

Before I finished indulging in my revenge fantasies, Carter pulled into The Body Shop.

“I’ll touch base tomorrow morning.” Harrow leaned his seat back like he planned to nap on the way to work. “We’ll figure out where to go from there.”

After nudging Little, who was weighted down with her treats, out her door, I exited mine.

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