Page 2 of My Demon Charming

Once again, I chew the insides of my cheeks and try to keep my shaking under control.

She doesn’t know, Yu-jin. She doesn’t know.

No one knows the truth. It’s how he prefers it. It’s how they all prefer it, and I have no choice but to abide.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Solis.” I make it clear the conversation is over by turning my back to her. I pretend I’m counting something when, in truth, I’m fighting back tears.

He won’t let me go. I know he won’t. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to try, but I already know it will be a fruitless, if not painful, effort.

Unless…

I reach for the drawer under the counter and take out the old Nokia cell phone hiding inside. It once belonged to my mom. I found it in a box when cleaning the storeroom upstairs. Thankfully, it still works. At least for what I need it for. And the only thing I need it for is to contact my best friend.

Well, my only friend, really.

Me:

Tell me it’s arrived. Please tell me it’s arrived.

I check my surroundings and bite my thumbnail while waiting for a reply. The last thing I need is for Kevin, Michelle, or Mason to walk in and find the phone.

It’s my only contact with the outside world, my only escape from this cruel life I’m living.

Jace:

No. Sorry, honey.

Fuck.

I squeeze my eyes shut and run my hand over my face.

Me:

Wasn’t it supposed to be here by now? It’s been three weeks.

Jace:

I know. Let me check the mailroom again. If it’s still not here, I’ll call the company and try to sort out a replacement.

I try not to be disappointed. I try not to let it get to me, but I can’t help it. That box is my only hope. My last hope.

Turns out, I don’t even have the time to worry about that because my chest clenches and my lungs cease working.

Shit.

I look at the clock as I grab my neck and attempt to breathe life back into my body.

That fucker. I’m only one minute late. But even that is reason for punishment from my cruel stepfather.

The pain subsides, though not completely, and I open the register. I empty the money into the red safe box before placing it in my backpack and hide the letter in the drawer before I lock up and make my way home.

Home. Pfft. What a joke of a word. That place has never been my home.

“You’re late,” Michelle warns me before I’ve even opened the door.

“I’m sorry. I had an indecisive customer.”

Michelle isn’t listening as she turns me around and digs into my backpack for the safe box.