Page 53 of Demon On Deck

The thought is like a punch in the gut, leaving me gasping for air.

Even so, if it helps her even a little, it’ll be worth it.

But if we succeed…once I’ve won her back, I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to her.

I wipe my brow and run my hands down the legs of my pants, then open the door. Mel stands on the other side, looking calm and collected in her casual jeans and t-shirt with a messy bun, holding several thick file folders.

“Hey, Mel. Come on in.”

She steps inside, eyes taking in every detail of my lavish home. Kallie did much the same when I finally gave her a proper tour. With clothes on.

Just the memory of taking her in every room, on every available space, has me groaning.

“You good, Evren?” Mel asks curiously, quirking a brow just like her sister.

“I’m good,” I say, clearing my throat and leading her to the dining room where Dad has set up his computer.

“Kallie was right, your home is very nice.”

”Thanks. To be honest, it hasn’t felt very welcoming without your sister here,” I say, rubbing my chest.

When we reach the dining room, both my parents stand next to the table, waiting. I watch Mel as she takes them in, wondering when, or if, Kallie ever meets them, if she’ll react the same.

They make quite the pair. My Dad is just as tall as I am, nearly seven foot with his horns. We share the same coloring: crimson skin, black horns, and orange eyes. Streaks of gray pepper his red-and-black short, wavy hair and goatee. He’s most definitely embraced the easy-going retired life and has the physique to match.

In contrast, my mom is about two feet shorter, even with the tiny curved grey horns that twist into tiny points. She also has red skin, though hers is a deep garnet in comparison to our vibrant crimson. Mom’s hair is braided into two pigtails that just reach her shoulders, with silver weaving its way through the black.

To her credit, Mel doesn’t stare or let on any surprise. She walks up to them and extends her hand.

“Hi. I’m Mellodie, Kallie’s sister. Please call me Mel.” She says, shaking my mom’s hand.

“It’s lovely to meet you, though, I do wish it were under better circumstances,” Mom says, clasping Mel’s with both of hers.

Mel gives a sad smile, then turns to my Dad. “I truly appreciate what you’re doing. Kallie will too, once she pulls her stubborn head out of her ass.”

Dad snorts as Mom snickers, and I try to tamp down the irritation I feel at the dig at my mate. It doesn’t matter that it’s from her sister, or that she is technically right.

Dad releases Mel’s hand and lays it on my shoulder. “Relax, son. She doesn’t mean any harm.”

Mel turns an incredulous eye at me, taking in my suddenly rigid posture. “Listen, brother, from everything I’ve heard from Kallie, and from the lengths that you are going to in order to help my sister, I know you’re a great guy. However,” she pauses, turning to face me fully, placing a hand on her hip, “when my sister is acting like a stubborn ass, I’m gonna call her a stubborn ass, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it. With you being all googly-eyed at her, someone has to keep her ass grounded.”

Mom giggles, walking over to wrap an arm around Mels's shoulders. “Oh, you are fabulous, dear. I can’t wait to meet your sister.”

I watch as Mel softens, giving Mom an adoring smile. “She’ll love you. Hell, you aren’t even going to be my in-laws, and I already love you. I think what you and Evren are doing for Kallie is beyond incredible.”

Mom gives Mel a squeeze and looks adoringly from me to Dad. I can already see she is adopting Mel as hers, too. I let the tension seep out of me and enjoy the happy moment before weakly retorting, “I do not have googly eyes.”

Everyone laughs and moves to sit at the table. Mel begins pulling various stacks of paper out of the folders, as well as a thumb drive. When she’s done, she turns her attention to Dad, holding up the thumb drive.

“This is the security key to her bank accounts. I have the password for the two-step verification. We’ve been with the same bank forever. Kallie uses it for both personal and professional banking. What you’ve got in front of you is her tax history, personal and professional, from 3 years before she married dick weasel to the present.”

Dad reaches forward, hand extended. Mel places it in his hand, expression tentative but hopeful. He wraps his massive hand around the tiny object, holding it delicately, looking her in the eyes.

“This is everything I need. I don’t take this task lightly. Not just because of professional pride. This is personal.” He says, turning his focus to me briefly. “This is for my son’s mate, for family.”

Mel looks to me, eyes slightly wide, clearly having noted my dad’s use of the word mate, before turning back to my dad and giving a quick nod.

“Let’s get started,” I say.