Lucky Streak by Carly Phillips Read Free Book Online

the dynamics around him were unfriendly. Until she had him safely back in the home and Marshall’s name removed from the list of visitors, she had to play the game.
    â€œWould you like something to eat?” Marshall asked.
    â€œNo, thank you.”
    â€œReally? I’m sure you and your new husband worked up quite an appetite last night,” he said, not bothering to hide the disdain on his face.
    She narrowed her gaze. “How did you know about that?” She thought she’d lost J.R.
    â€œThe same way I knew about the money. J.R. was keeping an eye on you and he’s good at his job. You’re not just my meal ticket, Amber. I care about you and I promised your father I’d look after you. Didn’t I, Sam?”
    Amber didn’t look at him. Whenever she’d thought of getting married, she’d always imagined her father walking her down the aisle of a beautiful church, packed with family and friends. Not a quickie Las Vegas ceremony. Ironically, it wasn’t the lack of frills that bothered her, it was the seedy way Marshall made her actions sound in front of her only parent. That and the fact that Sam couldn’t have been there, but she’d come to terms with his illness. She just resented Marshall’s using him as a pawn in his game.
    â€œI’m not hungry, so let’s get on with it. I brought what you want. Now I’d like to take my father back to the home.” She placed the white bag on the table and rose.
    â€œNot so fast,” Marshall said, ice in his voice. “Your father is still eating. Is it good?” he asked Sam in a softer tone.
    Amber wasn’t fooled. Marshall obviously had more on his mind than her father’s meal.
    â€œBesides, I’m not finished with you yet,” he added coldly, proving her hunch correct.
    Her stomach rolled, but she refused to let her panic show. She lowered herself back into her seat. “You got your money. What else could you possibly want?”
    â€œYou. Me. One more game.”
    She shook her head. “Oh, no. I already told you I’m out.” Her voice rose to an unsettling pitch.
    â€œYou made my favorite meat loaf tonight?” Sam interrupted, from beside her. But he wasn’t talking to Amber.
    He was talking to Amber’s mother, the woman he loved, and the days he returned to when he spoke at all. At times like this, he was having what the nurses called a bad day. Something—or in this case someone—had rattled him.
    â€œIt’s pasta,” Amber said in a soothing voice.
    She shot a frosty glare at Marshall.
    â€œIt was your tone that got to him. Don’t blame me.” He held up both hands as if he had done nothing wrong.
    Her jaw hurt from clenching her teeth to keep the vile words inside her from spilling forward.
    â€œOne more job,” Marshall said pleasantly. “That hundred and fifty grand is my stake. I owe some nasty men two-fifty. Once I pay that back and I knowmy legs and other body parts will remain intact, you can go and never see me again.”
    She should only be so lucky. “And if I refuse?”
    He patted Sam’s hand. “Your dad and I go for a ride.” He leaned in closer to Amber and whispered in her ear, “And you never see him again.”
    Amber knew she was cornered. But she wasn’t giving up without going for whatever she could, first.
    She snatched the money bag back. “Half now and half before we buy in tonight. I want to get my father situated and safe first.” She’d have to find another nursing home, she thought. One where Marshall had no access to him. She couldn’t risk something like this ever happening again.
    â€œNot a problem. When your father finishes eating, we’ll go together. We’ll take your father back, then you can go home and get cleaned up for tonight. I’ll watch TV and wait, then we can head out, get a few drinks first to loosen up, and do our