Page 10 of Chomp's Challenge

Chomp rushes to his feet as I wave him off. “No. It’s fine.”

“It’s not any trouble,” he assures me.

“I know.”

“But maybe next time you’d like some vegetables or salad with your meal?” he clarifies.

“Yes. If it’s available.”

“I’ll make sure it is.” Chomp chooses the juiciest, largest steak from the pile on the platter, and I think it’s going straight to his plate.

When the steak is placed on mine, I blink at him in shock. Perry would never give me the best portions of food. I often got scraps since I wasn’t allowed to eat until he finished. There were even meals that I got nothing at all. It’s partially why I’m so thin and likely malnourished. It’s not normal to see the vertebrae in your back, or the bones sticking out from your shoulders and hips.

“Shit,” Chomp curses. “You like meat, right?”

“I do,” I say as I swallow. “It’s just that I’m not used to this.” I gesture to the table with my hand.

He appears confused. “What are you talking about? Food?” He’s joking, but when he sees my serious expression, his body stiffens. “Tell me what you mean, Ariel. Please,” he adds.

I take a sip of my drink to help clear my suddenly dry throat. “Growing up, it was just me and my mom. My dad died when I was one due to a work accident. I had a great childhood, Chomp. My mom was the absolute best person and I honestly never realized that we were probably on the poverty level while growing up. She was handy with a needle and thread, and made most of my clothes, although she would look for deals at the thrift stores, then remake them to ‘jazz them up’ as she would say. I was loved and always had food on the table. She had planned to stay at home and raise their babies, but I ended up being the only one. The problem with that was she only had a high school education, and jobs aren’t exactly high paying for someone like her. Thankfully, she owned the house outright as it was an inheritance from her parents, so we always had a place to live. Still, we had a garden so we always had plenty of fresh vegetables, and I learned to can by her side so we could stock up. She taught me how to be a bargain shopper and she never, ever complained. She pushed me to do my best in school, and when the opportunity to dual enroll came along, I did that and graduated with an associate degree in secretarial science, which allowed me to get a decent paying job.

“Then Mom got sick. She had state insurance, but it doesn’t really pay for the good treatments when you have the type of cancer she got. Perry came along and we started dating about six months or so before she died. He would bring over bags of groceries, pay for her medication, and pretty much acted as though he was our savior. He told my mom over and over again that he would always take care of her little girl. Chomp, the day she died was the first time he hit me. It was so unexpected, I truly thought it was because he was so distraught.”

“You blamed yourself for him putting his hands on you?” Chomp’s voice is low and lethal sounding.

I nod but bite back a scream when I see his eyes change to an elliptical shape before going back to normal again. “By then, I had moved in with him, and since Mom’s medical bills were so overwhelming, I had to have an estate sale then sell the house itself to take care of everything. I was left with nothing because Perry had taken over my paycheck by then as well.”

Shame coats my tone and I hang my head as tears drip down, but I keep going because if he wants to know, he’s going to hear it all. It’s as if now that the seal’s been broken, I can’t shut up. “All the food he used to bring to the house? That stopped for me. I cooked enough for us but wasn’t allowed to eat until he was finished. Sometimes,” my voice drops to a whisper, “he’d bring Ricky over to eat, and he’d eat my portion. So, a lot of times, I just didn’t get to eat.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Chomp roars. This time, I don’t imagine his eyes changing. Not only that, but it looks like scales ripple up and down his muscular arms.

“Chomp?” I question. “What’s… what’s going on?”

A bellow of rage flies from his lips as he pushes off the table. “I can’t.” His fingers spear through his dark hair. “Fuck. I’m so fucking angry right now.”

My voice is barely a squeak. “At me?”

His gaze swings my way. “Never. You understand me, Ariel? I will never, ever put my hands on you, and I’ll never be so furious that I can’t control myself around you.” He’s seething.

I can see the rage in his eyes and it’s then that I realize they’re the same. The identical glow and reptilian pupil. Oh. My. God. It’s him. He’s the massive gator that pulled Ricky from my body and attacked Perry. He’s the one who saved me.

I shove away from the table and retreat a couple of steps. “You,” I say, blinking rapidly as I try to understand and make sense of this revelation. “It’s you. You’re the alligator.”

“Shit.” His shoulders slump.

Chomp. His name echoes in my head. Jesus. How did I miss connecting the dots? “Chomp,” I murmur with trepidation. “That’s why you’re called that. Isn’t it?”

His gaze meets mine as he nods. “Yes.”

But . . . how?

“I could explain but it’s probably gonna make a hell of a lot more sense if I show you.”

Show me!? Oh, hell no. I don’t want to see that alligator again!

I’m shaking my head from side to side so fast that I stumble. “No. I-I can’t. I don’t want to see it.”

He looks devastated by my response which only makes me feel worse. “Ariel.” He sounds sad, which grips my heart, but that gator scared the ever-loving crap out of me! There’s no way I want to see it again, that’s for sure.

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