Page 33 of Chomp's Challenge

Chomp blinks in surprise. “Wow, that’s an amazing idea. I’ll run it by Spike and see if he wants to speak to Maggie about it.”

We arrive at the diner, and we’re seated, soon eating those comfort foods I thought about earlier. The waitress sets down a plate of country fried steak, gravy, and mashed potatoes in front of me in addition to the salad I ordered. All that’s missing is my mother’s homemade green beans with bacon and onions. She used to cook them in the crockpot for hours in chicken broth and seasonings until they were tender and full of flavor. I still miss them. Luckily, I have her recipe. Actually, I’ve got her cookbook. She jotted down every recipe she loved by hand and added pictures, so it was more like a photo album than a cookbook. It’s one of the things Chomp brought back. They managed to find it on a shelf in an old closet. Perry took it away six months ago when we had a fight. I thought he burned or threw it away. I’m so happy to be wrong.

Chomp is chowing on meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, warm rolls with butter, and corn on the cob. He seems to enjoy every bite. I’m still amazed at how much he can eat. Heck, how much all of his brothers eat! Callie and I eat normal portions while the men pile on the protein then eat the sides, almost as an afterthought.

I dab at my mouth with a napkin, pushing the plate toward him. “I’m full. Want the rest?”

He grins at me then pulls my plate closer before he finishes what I didn’t eat. When he raises his hand for the waitress, I assume he’s wanting our check. Nope. He proceeds to order dessert as I roll my eyes, which causes him to laugh.

“I’m a growing boy, what can I say?” he teases, smirking at me. “Besides, whatever we can’t eat, we’ll run by the house because we’re going to need the truck to get groceries.”

He’s not wrong about that one at all. The waitress grins as she takes his dessert order to the kitchen. I know there’s absolutely no way I’ll be able to eat any of it, but when she comes out with the tray, and I see there’s a piece of chocolate cake I look at him and grin. “There’s always room for chocolate, Chomp.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” We eat what we can then he looks at me and says, “I’ll be right back. I’ll get our server to bring over some to-go boxes.”

“Okay,” I reply, stacking the empty plates by size, then putting what’s left of the desserts on one plate. I’m not so picky that my food can’t touch, and so far, I haven’t seen Chomp push any food away, so it really doesn’t matter that the pie is touching the cake.

While he’s gone, I feel the hair on the nape of my neck stand up straight, as if someone’s watching me. Carefully, I turn my head like I used to do when I lived with Perry and glance around the room with my peripheral vision. Seeing someone glaring at me through the window of the diner who is a dead ringer for Perry has sweat breaking out all over my body as my breath stutters in my chest.

How is this possible?

Chapter

Fifteen

ARIEL

I shudder as I suck in another breath. I’m afraid I’ll start hyperventilating. The shock of seeing Perry again is wreaking havoc on my body and brain. Terror is overtaking common sense. I want to scream.

Who is this man? Why does he look just like Perry? I know Perry’s dead, but the logical side of my brain isn’t in control. All the trauma rushes into the present and I don’t know what to do.

Chomp. I need Chomp and I need him now. As my hands start to tremble, I nearly drop the plate of desserts as I slide them into the box the waitress dropped off. She says something about Chomp joining me soon, but it doesn’t seem to click.

Outside, I still see the Perry look alike and it becomes a hundred times more hellacious when he grins. He knows what his presence is doing to me and he’s enjoying it.

I can’t stay here. But I can’t leave by myself, either. I’m wrestling with my fight or flight instinct when Chomp comes back to the table. I know I probably look half-crazy as I stare at him, unable to speak, just point.

“Ariel, what’s wrong?” For just a moment, I see his eyes flash as his gator peers at me, worry evident.

“H-h-he’s out there,” I whisper, as I continue to point out the window. “B-b-but it’s not possible,” I whisper, willing Chomp to understand what I’m unable to put into words.

He throws a bunch of cash on top of the receipt that’s on the table and I instinctively know he’s given the waitress one helluva trip. “Come on, we’re going,” he decrees, taking my hand in his. I don’t want to go near the door and almost drag my feet.

This is crazy. I have to be seeing things. Perry and Ricky are dead. I saw them torn apart by Chomp’s gator. For some reason, all the shit I’ve gone through must be surfacing just when I think I’m healing. Maybe I’m going crazy, or I’m depressed, but that doesn’t make sense. A few hours ago, I was singing in the shower!

Chomp’s head swings both ways as we exit, looking for any threat. And to make matters worse, I don’t see the Perry look alike. He’s vanished.

“Ariel, do you still see him?”

He believes me, I realize. As insane as it sounds, Chomp believes my fearful response is driven by reality and not something I conjured from a trauma response. “No.” I’m shaking so hard that Chomp tugs me close.

“Baby. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer.

He leads me away from the diner and into the street, walking beside me as he keeps scanning the road, storefronts, and businesses in the central part of town. “We’re going to walk toward my house. If you feel unsafe or afraid at any time, you let me know. Okay?”

I nod, still trying to breathe without freaking out.

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