Page 7 of Little Sunshine

When the man released me, I didn’t try to run. He’d have caught me in two of his long-legged steps, alerting security in the process.

My mom was the one who thrived off making a scene, not me.

I slid the wallet from my pocket and backtracked to where the couple still lingered near the restaurant.

Pretending to pick it up, I stood and tapped the mark’s shoulder. “Excuse me, is this yours?”

His eyes dropped to the wallet and then narrowed on me.

It didn’t matter what trumped-up image I’d tried to project to make it seem like I belonged in the fancy casino. It didn’t matter how easily and skillfully I schooled my features into the picture of innocence. To the people who actually belonged in the luxury resort, I still looked like exactly what I was.

Poor trash.

Shit, this is going to be bad.

I braced, my thoughts racing for excuses if he accused me of… well, of the truth.

His gaze went over my head just as I felt someone behind me. “Do you work here? This… girl,” he spat, making it clear that wasn’t the word he wanted to use, “stole my wallet.”

“The wallet in your hands?” the behemoth asked.

“Yes, but?—”

“The one she just picked up and handed to you?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Is anything missing?”

My failed mark opened his wallet to check his cards and count his cash.

An obscene amount of it.

He wouldn’t have noticed five bucks missing. He probably wouldn’t have even realized if a couple of hundred were missing.

He tucked the bills away. “It’s all here.”

“Then what’s the problem?” the man behind me asked, his voice dripping with impatience.

“No problem,” my mark said, even as he eyed me with distaste—like my mere existence was an insult to him. Without another word, he and the woman walked away, not even thanking me for finding the wallet.

I mean, I was also the one who’d taken it, but still. Rude.

Not turning, I quietly muttered, “There, it’s returned.”

I tried to continue on my way to hell in a flaming handbasket, but a large hand encircled my wrist again. That time, he didn’t have to whip me around. I did it myself so I could glare up at him. “I will scream, and it doesn’t matter if security hears now.”

He didn’t seem worried. “Why’d you take it?”

There was no animosity in his tone. No judgment. No ridicule. It was just curiosity, like he was asking what my favorite food was.

Any.

Any was my favorite food.

When I didn’t answer, he twisted my arm in his hold, and his gaze darted down.

I’d grown up in Vegas—and not the Moonlight side of it that was all glam and luxury. I knew what he was looking for.

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