Page 8 of Little Sunshine

That he’d caught me stealing was embarrassing.

But watching him inspect my inner arm for track marks killed.

I’d long ago given up caring about what others thought of me. The assumptions they were quick to make. But for whatever reason, I didn’t want this stranger to think I was a junkie.

Turning both my arms so he could see they were unmarred, I kept my voice low as I shared my shame. “I’m just hungry. I was going to take enough to buy a cheap burger and then drop the wallet with an employee. That’s it, I swear.” Tears blurred my vision as I repeated, “I’m just hungry.”

“Then let’s feed you,” he said simply.

My stomach ate away at itself. The burn of reflux and cramps caused a constant ache that I couldn’t escape. Not while I worked. Not while I dealt with a behemoth. Not even in sleep.

But I shook my head, my stupid pride unwilling to accept his charity. “I need to get home.”

“I didn’t ask. Let’s go.”

“Really, it’s?—”

“Now, little girl. Or I’ll talk to security. I’m sure a place like this is loaded with cameras that caught your trick.”

It was the wrong thing to be cocky about, but I knew it was unlikely any camera had detected my pickpocketing. My movements were trained to be minimal. At most, it would look like I’d brushed by the man.

The behemoth as a witness changed things, though.

I wasn’t sure whether he’d actually turn me in, but I wasn’t anxious to find out.

“Okay,” I relented.

A slow smile spread across his lips, making deep dimples appear under his blond beard. “Good.”

I had no idea what was good about any of it, especially for him.

I didn’t trust his smile or words.

Or him, for that matter.

Despite my agreement seconds before, I dug my heels in. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re hungry.”

“Okay, and? What’s that got to do with you?” I snapped—partially to mask my embarrassment but mostly because I was exhausted and starving.

“Are you always such a ray of sunshine?” he shot back instead of answering. Still holding my wrist, he walked through the milling crowds, not hesitating or dodging out of the way like I did. He didn’t have to. Everyone got the hell out of his path, likely for fear of being mowed over.

We followed the signs for the food court, and my eyes landed on an exit.

When we pass, I’ll duck out and run my ass off.

I barely finished my thought when he said, “Don’t even think about it.”

I forced my voice to be light and confused. “Think about what?”

“Running. You wouldn’t get more than a handful of steps before I caught you.”

“I predicted two steps.”

“I was being generous.”

“Nice of you,” I deadpanned.

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