Page 3 of Red

Melinda stepped down from the kitchen into the family room. Keeping her eyes focused on the wolf, she made her way to her grandmother.

“Grams, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay,” she assured her, sinking beside her grandmother on the couch. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Melinda regarded Erik.

“What are you doing here?”

“Collecting what’s mine,” he said coolly, as if that told her anything.

“Are you hurt, Grams?” She pulled back to examine her grandmother.

With red, swollen eyes, her grandmother peered back at her. The woman who’d taken her in after her parents’ death, the woman who’d kissed every skinned knee, hugged away every nightmare had regret weighing down her expression.

“No. He didn’t hurt me. He’s not—” Grams took in a long shaky breath. “Your grandfather…” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Your grandfather did something horrible. Terrible. Beyond forgiveness.”

Her grandfather had had his issues, but Grams always forgave him, and they’d kept a happy home.

“What are you talking about?”

“When you were in high school, he had a problem with his card games. He loved playing them, but he was no good at them.”

Melinda remembered easily beating her grandfather at poker whenever they played a friendly game. He didn’t have a knack for knowing when to fold and when to hold.

“Yeah?” Melinda scooted closer to her grandmother on the couch.

“He almost lost the house one year. You don’t remember because you were so young. But it was worse when you were in high school.”

Melinda tried to keep up with her ramblings, but Erik’s narrowed gaze made her uncomfortable.

“Grams, what did he do that you can’t forgive? Why is”—she cast a quick glance at Erik—“he here?”

“Your grandfather gambled away everything he had and even more he didn’t,” Erik interjected with annoyance.

“Funny”—Melinda turned a hot glare on him—“you don’t look like my grandmother. I’m talking to her, not you.”

“No, don’t fight with him.” Her grandmother gripped Melinda’s knee.

“Can you go away for a minute? You’re scaring my grandmother, and I want to talk to her.”

“No,” Erik said with finality.

“No?”

“Melinda—” Her grandmother grabbed her arm when Melinda stood up from the couch.

“That’s right, no.” He set a firm stance, planting himself right there in her grandmother’s family room. The room she’d played board games and video games with her grandparents. This man acted like he owned the room.

“Melinda, please.” Grams stood up with her and yanked on her coat until Melinda was facing her again. “He’s telling you the truth. Your grandfather lost everything, and he kept playing, kept going back, taking more loans, selling more things, until the only thing he had left to sell”—tears ran down Grams’ cheeks—“was you.”

Heat drained from Melinda’s face. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she blinked. Her grandfather had died a year before her high school graduation. He’d never mentioned…never talked about his gambling. He’d promised he’d stopped.

“No.” She shook her head. “You can’t sell people!”

Grams gripped her coat harder. “He did, and I didn’t know. Maybe he thought he could get the money before the man came to get you. But he never told me, Melinda. I swear, he never told me.”

Melinda sank onto the couch. “Gramps has been gone for years,” she whispered.

“The terms of the sale were to allow you to finish school. College wasn’t discussed, but there was a delay due to some restructuring,” he began.

“Shut up.” Melinda rubbed her temples.

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