My Demon Mate

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The storm is gone, but the streets outside are still wet. Puddles shine under the early morning light, and cars send thin waves of water across the sidewalks. The city sounds louder after a night of rain, like it is shaking itself awake. Inside our apartment, though, everything feels heavy. The pipes bang in the walls, the floor is cold, and the coffee pot sputters like it might give up before it’s finished.

I lean against the counter, waiting for the bitter smell of coffee to fill the room. My eyes sting from too little sleep. The guardianship forms are still on the table where I left them last night. I stacked them neatly, but they still look out of place, like they don’t belong here with the chipped plates and overdue bills.

Bella sits at the table, swinging her legs, eating cereal that’s already gone soggy. Her backpack is slumped against the chair beside her. She glances at the papers, then back at me.

“Did you finish them?” she asks.

Her spoon clinks against the bowl as she takes another bite.

“Not yet,” I say, turning back to pour my coffee.

“You said you would.”

“I said I’d try.” The coffee spills over the rim of the mug and burns my hand. I curse softly, grab a rag, and blot at the mess. My chest tightens, and the glass on the counter trembles, rattling against the wall.

I freeze. My hand shoots out to steady it. The glass goes still, but my pulse doesn’t.

Bella doesn’t notice. She’s too busy watching the loops in her bowl sink into the milk.

“Eat,” I say, sharper than I mean to. “You’ll be late.”

She looks at me like she knows something’s off, but instead of asking, she shrugs. Then her mouth quirks into a grin. “You need a parent too. Who makes you breakfast?”

I blink at her. “What?”

“You do everything for me. Who does everything for you?”

I almost laugh, but it comes out flat. “Nobody. I don’t need anyone to.”

“Everyone does,” she says with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. Then she digs back into her cereal, like the conversation never happened.

Her words stick with me. I stare at her, at her blonde hair sticking up from sleep and her green eyes shining in the morning light. She has no idea how much she says without meaning to.

I walk over and push her bangs away from her forehead. “Don’t worry about me, Belle. I’ve got this.”

Her green eyes lock on mine, searching. For a second, she looks older than nine. Then she nods, like she doesn’t believe me but doesn’t want to push it.

By the time she’s in her jacket and hunting for her shoes, I’ve shoved the guardianship forms into a folder and buried them under a pile of unopened envelopes. Out of sight, out of mind—for now.

We leave the apartment, our steps echoing down the narrow stairwell. The light in the hall flickers overhead, buzzing like an insect. Bella notices this one but doesn’t say anything.

Outside, the air smells like wet asphalt. The streets are crowded with people heading to work, umbrellas still dripping, horns blaring from impatient cars. Bella slips her hand into mine automatically. For all her talk about being grown up, she still clings to me when we’re out here.

She chatters as we walk. “Mrs. Geller promised pancakes for snack time today. Oh, and Ava got a hamster. Did you know hamsters can eat strawberries? Can we get one? I’d feed it myself, I swear.”

I squeeze her hand. “Belle, we barely have space for all your shoes.”

“I only have three pairs,” she argues, then adds quickly, “A hamster wouldn’t take up much room.”

I shake my head. “We’ll see.” Which we both know means no.

Her laugh is light and unbothered. She skips ahead a step, swinging our joined hands until my shoulder aches. Her joy is so easy, even when mine isn’t.

We pass the courthouse on our way. Its gray stone steps gleam from the rain, and the columns rise sharp against the sky. I slow, staring too long. That’s where I’ll have to go eventually, where some stranger will decide if I’m good enough to keep Bella. A paper stamped, a file closed, and it will be official.

The thought twists my stomach.

Bella tugs on my hand, pulling me back. “Do you think I could bring the hamster to school if I get one?”

“No, Belle.”

“Not even once?”

“Not even once.”

She giggles at my flat tone, then lets go of my hand to twirl in a puddle. Water splashes up her jeans. I should scold her, but the laugh spilling out of her mouth stops me. I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.

The school looms at the end of the block, brick walls shining under the pale sun. Kids stream toward the doors in packs, shouting to each other. Bella slows as we approach. She looks up at me, suddenly smaller.

“You’ll be okay?” she asks.

“I always am.”

She tilts her head like she doesn’t believe it. Then she throws her arms around my waist, squeezes tight, and pulls back before I can hug her in return. A quick kiss on my cheek, then she darts away, blonde hair flying behind her as she joins the crowd.

I watch until she disappears through the doors. The knot in my chest only tightens.

The street feels louder without her. Cars roar past, water hisses in the gutters, and strangers brush by without looking. I stay on the sidewalk for a long moment, staring at the school and the courthouse behind me. One holds Bella. The other holds the power to take her away.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t check it. Probably Arthur again. I don’t want to deal with him right now.

I turn back toward the apartment. My shoulders hunch against the wind. The papers wait for me on the table, and no matter how far I try to shove them out of sight, they’ll still be there when I come home.

I walk faster, like maybe if I keep moving, I won’t fall apart.