Page 49 of My Saintly Demon

“There are rules to follow…” He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You should be all good now. You better get going. Dave needs you.”

X spins and retreats quickly, leaving me hanging, wondering how I can help. Grabbing my shirt, I enter our suite again, closing the patio door with one last glance to see if X came back to talk more.

But he’s right. Dave needs me.

Dressing quickly, I leave our room to meet him and his father, and pray the outcome is what we both hope it will be.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

DAVE

My dad’s message said he’d be here by 11 AM. He assured me he’d get here even though he wasn’t certain of where it was.

The kitchen is empty, and my smile drops when I notice X isn’t here to create some casual chatter to get my mind off the coming conversation. But I can tell he was here earlier.

A freshly baked coffee cake sits on the kitchen table, and that brings my smile back as I remember our conversation last night and X’s demon offering. Like he had to gift Dad a goat or something. Coffee cake is a much better option.

A thud sounds from the hall closet, followed by a muffled curse, and I laugh at the entrance of my father as he bursts from the coat closet with a box of mittens in his hands.

“Hey, Dad. Underworld transportation sure likes their closet drop-offs, don’t they?”

He growls down at the box of mittens in his hand like they’ve offended him and tosses it into the corner.

“They sure do, and it’s a pain in the ass. We should have better entrances than that. I’m not here to sort mittens, I’m here to deal for your soul. For fuck’s sake, let me walk in the front door and if that can’t happen, how about a shower instead? At least I’d be greeted with naked flesh for the improper entrance.”

With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I rock on my heels and agree with him.

“I hear some people offer their soul for a decent pair of mittens though. Might be an opportunity there for you. It gets cold here.”

Dad shudders. “I don’t know how they stand the cold. I like my constant, pleasantly warm temperature.”

Dad mimics my stance. “So, are you going to invite me in or are we going to stand here staring at each other while debating winter wear all day?”

“Oh, right. Um… come in.”

Leading him into the kitchen, I motion for Dad to have a seat at the kitchen table. The rings on his fingers clink as he hitches up his dress pants before sitting. He leans back in the chair, resting one ankle on a knee. I smile when I see the patterned socks of tiny Yoda’s I gave him for his birthday one year.Yoda Best Dad. I thought it was funny.

“Um, X, he lives here. He made the coffee cake this morning. I was hoping you could meet him, but he’s not here.”

Dad takes the napkin I hand him and pulls a piece of cake off the already sliced pile.

“He’s not the one you’re sleeping with, is he?”

Coughing on a bite of cake, I shake my head.

“Jeez, Dad. No. And why would you ask that?”

He shrugs with a small smile. “There are some things a father just knows.”

“Mike told me about my mother.” Dad’s hands pause briefly as he brushes his crumbs into a pile. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

My father at least has the grace to look embarrassed.

“Truthfully, Dave, I was hoping I’d never have to.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

Dad sighs and pulls the coffee cup towards him I set down earlier. He runs his finger along the edge for a few moments before he meets my gaze again.

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