Page 19 of The Sea Witch's Son

My shoes echo against the floor as I leave the room and my mind flits back to the conversation between Melody and Finley. Her cheeks were rosy by the time I showed up, a pink tinge I credited to the argument I seemed to have interrupted.

But perhaps, the colour was not from the confrontation but something deeper. Something more… intimate.

Looks like my little saint will be of use to me after all.

Chapter 6

MELODY

I’m attacked the moment I walk through the door.

“Thank God.” Erik crushes me to his chest, “When you texted saying you didn’t need a ride I thought for sure someone had kidnapped you.”

I laugh weakly, “Pretty sure they would have sent a picture for ransom money.”

A heavy exhale presses against my chest. I squeeze him back, offering the physical reassurance my words always fail to offer.

“I’m okay, Erik. Really.”

“I know.” He clears his throat, finally releasing me, “Come on. I’ll get you something to eat.”

I kick off my shoes and follow him into the kitchen. A wooden countertop sits in the middle of the room, its surface wiped clean of dirt and grim. The dishtowels from our oldhouse hang off the ancient oven and my mother’s favourite culinary set sits above the rickety cabinets lining the walls.

It’s a kind gesture, taking the time to unpack our things so this place feels less like a haunted house and more like a home, but all it does is reinforce the person missing from our family.

I swallow, forcing my eyes away from the familiar utensils. Erik busies himself making me a sandwich, pulling out fresh bread and cheese he must have hunted down sometime today.

“So, tell me. How terrible was it?”

“It was fine.” Dropping my backpack to the floor, I climb onto a barstool, “I owe you a pocketknife though.”

Erik looks at me in concern, “Did you have to use it?”

“No, but I probably should have.” I scowl, thinking about Marlin and his slippery fingers, “Next time I’m slicing first, asking questions later.”

“I don’t like you going to school with these people.”

“And I don’t like having an unemployed stepfather. Guess we both have to make sacrifices.” Reaching up, I rub my jaw softly, “Could you pass me some ice?”

He passes me the sandwich before turning to the freezer standing next to the window. Natural light seeps through the arched panes, highlighting the salt-and-pepper streaks threading through Erik’s dark hair.

The grey seems to have doubled in the last fourteen days.

“The job search is going well, thanks for asking.” He blows out a breath, “There’s a local convenience store that needs some help-

“No.” Cutting him off, I shake my head, “We did not come all this way just so you could make minimum wage. We have a plan and we’re going to stick to it.”

“We only have six months until the inheritance money runs out.” He sighs, “It’s too risky. Let me find something steady and we’ll figure out the next steps then.”

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Erik. You can’t just throw it away because you’re scared.” Meeting his gaze, I give him a nod, “We can do this. You just have to trust me.”

The way I trusted you.

The unspoken words float between us, the echo of our past never far behind.

“I trust you.”

He looks at me with bloodshot eyes, the tell of too many sleepless nights. I soak in the weary face, resolving to make this work no matter the cost.