Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet Page 38

After an epic battle, he tore his gaze off my uncle and dropped it back to mine. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, and I felt him withdraw inside himself, as though he could dismiss Uncle Bob and everything that happened just like that.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Uncle Bob said, and I locked my jaw to keep it from coming unhinged.

“I agree!” Amber shouted. When everyone turned and gawked at her, she ducked back behind the boxes and said, “Sorry. That just kind of slipped out.”

I looked back and Reyes was smiling at her. A sweet, understanding gesture that took my breath away. His anger ebbed instantly, the shock of it like a splash of cold water on a hot summer day.

Realizing how rude I’d been, I said, “Reyes, I don’t think you’ve been officially introduced to anyone.” I turned to the people who had ambushed me, trying not to hold it against them. “This is my sister, Gemma; my uncle Bob; and Cookie.”

“And me,” a tiny voice said from beyond.

“And somewhere behind that wall is Cookie’s daughter Amber,” I said with a chuckle.

He didn’t unfold his arms but offered them each a nod in turn.

Uncle Bob elbowed Gemma. She snapped to attention and cleared her throat. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

When Reyes’s gaze landed on her again, he frowned in thought. Then recognition flitted across his face.

She read him easily. “Yes,” she said, holding out her hand for a shake. “We’ve met, just not officially.” Gemma was with me the very first time I saw Reyes. When we were in high school and Reyes was being abused by Earl Walker, the man he thought was his father.

After a tense moment where I wondered if he was going to reject her offer outright, he took her hand into his. I didn’t miss the soft gasp that rushed through her lips when he did so. Not that I could blame her.

Cookie had yet to fully recover. He tilted his head in greeting as though tipping an invisible hat.

The smile that stole across her face was the stuff of legend. Or, well, Rice Krispie treats: soft, sweet, and on the verge of melting into a lump of sticky goo. She offered him a breathy hi, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to chuckle. Not because I was worried about embarrassing her. Embarrassing her was one of my main goals in life. Right behind designing wedgie-free boxer shorts.

No, I’d been hit with another emotion. As afraid as I was to leave Uncle Bob and Reyes in such close proximity, I stepped over to the wall of boxes and looked behind them at Amber.

“Sweetheart?” I said, wondering what was going on.

The emotion pouring out of her was so strong, so palpable, I was having trouble concentrating on anything beyond it. Reyes had to feel it, too. I looked back. He was eyeing me with concern.

“Amber, are you okay?” I asked.

She was sitting at my desk with her face down, her long dark hair an impenetrable curtain of waves. “I’m okay,” she said, keeping her face hidden.

Cookie came over then and tried to peek over my shoulder. “What’s going on?” she asked me.

“I’m not sure.” Had we hurt Amber’s feelings before when we turned to look at her? I wasn’t really getting hurt, but whatever she was feeling was overpowering anything else. Twelve-year-old hormones were a tricky thing. She’d seemed fine thirty seconds earlier. Because I didn’t know what else to do, I asked, “Would you come meet Reyes?”

She looked up at me then, and I could see tears pooling in her blue eyes. She ducked back down, embarrassed, and let me lead her forward.

“This is the one they call Amber of the Kowalski clan,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “But she’s a heartbreaker, so guard yours well.” I winked at Reyes.

She strolled forward, her eyes locked on the ground, her shoulders concave, insecure.

He studied her, tilting his head for a better look. She was tall for a girl and really tall for a twelve-year-old girl, but her height gave her a grace that other girls her age lacked. Like a gazelle.

“Amber, can you say hi?” Cookie asked.

With her gaze still averted, she shook her head.

Cookie seemed mortified. She pushed a long lock of hair over Amber’s ear. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Reyes, shaking her own head in helplessness. “She’s usually so vocal.”

“You save her?” Amber finally said, talking to her feet. “You watch over her?”

Before any of us could question her, Reyes said, “Only on really special occasions.”

What were they talking about? Amber didn’t know about Reyes. How could she know he had saved my life? On several occasions, in fact.

She looked up at him then, her lashes holding a shimmering tear at bay. “I know what you do. I know what you are. They think I don’t, but I do. And I know you were here that night.”

“Amber,” Cookie said, a nervous smile twitching the corners of her mouth, “how could you know that?” Cookie suddenly grew afraid, and I knew where her thoughts were headed. What would Reyes do to her if he knew Amber was aware of his existence? “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“See? They don’t know, and they don’t trust you like I do.” She took a step forward. “You’ve watched over Charley her whole life. Kept her safe. And that night, if you hadn’t come—” Her breath hitched, and before any of us knew what she was doing, she ran forward.

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