Page 60 of Demons & Damnation

Chapter 25

When Kyla woke the next morning, around eight a.m., her mind immediately filled with memories from last night, from her piece of paper. Feeling more than revitalised and rather excited about her new lease of life, Kyla leapt out of bed, showered, and dressed in less than half an hour.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the keys for Sam’s car and headed out, intent on fixing this mess once and for all.

Her entire thirty-minute drive was nothing but a pounding heart, sweaty palms, and a racing mind, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. A whisper of a thought to call her insurance company sprang to mind but that was not important right now. Other things were far more pressing.

Pulling up outside the quaint, traditional English cottage, Kyla felt her mouth run dry. Ivy covered everything, including the wooden archway framing the small gate. Roses bloomed all around the busy little garden—red, white, yellow, orange, and even shades of purple. Bees and insects buzzed around on the warm spring day, surrounding Kyla in an idyllic scene. It was such a shame that her reason for being here was only shrouded in sadness and tragedy.

Minutes ticked by as she tried to find the courage to step out of the car and knock on the door. Her mind whirled with thoughts of what to even say. What if they slammed the door in her face?

Kyla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, telling herself she could do this. After everything she’d been through and battled against already, knocking on a door was nothing but a trivial task.

It’s just knocking on a door. Deal with who answers it afterwards. Knock on the door first. Just knock on the door.

Repeating those words over and over to herself, she psyched herself up to the point of grabbing the car door handle. A sharp rap from her passenger window startled her, making her jump.

Staring back at her was the friendly, warm smile she’d always remembered, and she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“Are you coming inside or cooking in your car all day?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Hey, Gran.”

***

KYLA COULDN’T HELP but notice that her gran looked like she hadn’t aged a day. Her dark red hair now had highlights of grey here and there, her eyes had gathered a wrinkle or two at the corners, but otherwise, she still looked not a day over fifty, let alone her real age of seventy-two. She still carried the same calm, confident grace of energy that reflected in her beautiful name—Lily.

As her gran smiled at her, Kyla couldn’t help but feel a stab of pain in her heart. Her piercing blue eyes were the most painful part of her gran to look at because her mother had the exact same eyes.

Walking inside the low-ceilinged kitchen, Kyla saw her grandad sat at the small round table in the middle of the room. His dark bushy eyebrows were furrowed together as he stared at the jigsaw puzzle in front of him.

Glancing quickly at the box lid, propped up against the teapot, Kyla frowned. Since when did Grandad do jigsaw puzzles? Especially ones of Finding Nemo?

“There is no age limit on animated characters, you know.”

The familiar deep boom of his voice vibrated around her, making her smile. The fear and respect commanded from even the kindest words he spoke hadn’t lessened any. His physical appearance alone frightened most people. Being over six feet tall and built like he’d been a contestant in World’s Strongest Man, Malcolm could only be described as a big guy. His hands were almost the size of Kyla’s head. How on earth her slim, petite framed gran coped with him still baffled her.

“What would you like to drink, dear?” Lily asked, heading to the old Aga on the far side of the kitchen.

Processing everything slowly, and piece by piece, it took Kyla a few seconds to register the fact that her grandad had answered her question—the one she’d asked herself in her head.

“What did you just say?” Kyla asked, trying to ignore the tremble taking over her body.

“You heard me,” he said, still not looking up. Hovering a piece of puzzle over a particular spot, he slotted it in place and grinned when it fit. “Have that ya bugger.” He finally looked up at his granddaughter, stretched out his shoulders, and smiled. “Been a long time, Marmalade.”

An overwhelming sense of ease unfurled in Kyla’s stomach. His nickname for her had been born from her love of her gran’s delicious homemade marmalade. If she was ever with her grandparents, it was guaranteed she’d have sticky, marmalade covered fingers and cheeks. Memories of her childhood sprang forwards, making Kyla ache for the easy, carefree life of a child. Everything was so simple and innocent. Where and when did it all become so complicated?

“You’re as capable of picking up the phone as much as I am,” Kyla quipped back.

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