Chapter 24
The water burns my throat as it’s expelled from my lungs. My body aches, but I manage to crawl up on the bank of the river. I thought I was going to die when the water repeatedly dragged me down. I cough up more water and crash down on the dirt, my legs still in the water. I shrug my backpack off. It’s a miracle it survived the pounding against the rocks. Thank the Goddess I had it on, or I would’ve hit the rocks full on. Now I get how Ashton sobered up after nearly drowning.
Ashton. I close my eyes and shake the thought of him out of my mind. I’m never going to see him again. I can’t let thoughts of him consume me; it hurts too much. I slowly sit up and drag my backpack closer. The contents are only slightly damp in places, thank the Goddess. I slip on a t-shirt and shorts. My shoes are gone. I pull out a Power Bar and slowly munch it down in an attempt to regain some strength. I need a minute, so I close my eyes.
I must’ve passed out because the light was fading when I open my eyes. I have to make it to the town, and I’m too amped to sit around. It’s a full moon, and I’m able to clearly see the terrain around me. As long as I follow the river, I should find it.
The sun begins to rise, and I can just see the outline of the town through the trees. Finally… now what? I bite my lip and try to work myself up to actually enter the town. I’m so scared. What if they know I’m not human? What if they kill trespassers too? I stood up to Alpha Greg; I can do this too. I kneel beside the river and scrub the mud from my arms, legs, and face. The cool clear water is refreshing, especially on my aching feet. I take a deep breath then settle on just taking one step at a time.
Just outside of the town, I pull the matchbook from the pocket of my backpack. The logo is blue with red writing of the words Mac's Diner on it. You can do this, Gypsy. I take a deep breath and make my way forward. I can see a few people out on the otherwise quiet street. The town is not very large, but it has the necessities such as a few shops, a bank, a gas station, a post office, and the diner. The diner is snuggled up to the edge of the woods, so that is my course.
I take a few deep breaths working up the courage to leave the safety of the trees and advance toward hopefully finding my dad. My dad. I am going to find my dad. Come on, Gypsy. It’s been ten years since you saw him last. Holy Goddess, I’m going to see my dad again. The anticipation of seeing him again ignites a fire within me and pushes my feet to move.
There are a few human patrons and a middle-aged woman behind the counter of the little diner. Blue booths sandwich gray tables with red trim and blue stools run the length of the counter that also has a red trim. Every face turns to stare at me as soon as I step through the door. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all? My heart thuds, and my hands begin to sweat. I rub them together as faces begin to look away. I close my eyes to calm myself. Think of Dad, Gypsy, think of Dad. I set my backpack down near an empty stool away from the rest of the patrons and take a seat.
“What can I get for you, sweet pea?” the lady behind the counter asks with a notepad in hand. Her brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she has a welcoming smile on her pretty face. I subtly calm down, knowing I’m not in danger. Her blue jeans and blue polo shirt make me wonder if she’s the owner or a server. Her name tag says her name is Linda.
My stomach is empty, and I finally get a chance to let my body relax. “Orange juice please.”
She nods then points out the special. “Lone wolf platter comes with eggs, ham, country potatoes, and pancakes.”
What an odd name for a special. That’s way too much food for me. Breakfast sounds amazing right now; I can’t remember the last time I had pancakes. My dad used to make them for me, but I know I’ve snuck some of the more burned ones that I’ve cooked over the years. “Just pancakes please.” She nods then takes the ticket to the window. I look around and notice the décor is wolf everything. One wall has a howling wolf mural. The trim around the doors is even tiny paw prints.
Linda promptly returns with my orange juice. “Here you are, hon.”
I stop her before she can walk away. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Malcolm Campbell. Would you happen to know where I can find him.”
Her brows scrunch as she looks at me. “Can’t say I do.” She looks over to the man sitting at the far end of the counter “Darrell. Do you know of a Malcolm Campbell?”
The guy leans back to look at me again. He’s dressed in a postman’s outfit. I guess he would be the person to ask. “There’s no one by that name around here.”
Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Disappointment sets in, and I shrink down in my stool. Gran said this restaurant is how I would find him. I thank them both and then look around more while I wait for my food. The wall behind the counter holds kitchen equipment. The wall behind me is filled with booths along the window. But to my right is a shelf of knick-knacks.
The cook rings the bell, and Linda sets my plate in front of me, along with a variety of syrup. I’m in no rush, so I take my time to eat. The pancakes taste better than any I’ve swiped. They remind me of Dad’s. They’re so fluffy and just the right golden color. They even taste like his. This has to be the place. It screams Dad.
After finishing half of my breakfast, I’m too full to eat anymore. The shelf beckons me forward, and I look it over. It’s up high, and I can’t see everything, but one thing stands out—a glass rose that looks just like his tattoo.
This is the place, I know it is. “Excuse me, Linda?” She turns to face me with her hands on her hips. “Can you tell me who own this place?”
“That would be Big Mac Thompson. He’ll be in later today if you want to stop back in.” I knit my brows. Would he use Gran’s last name? How do you get Mac from Malcolm? I guess it’s not too much of a stretch. Then it hits me. Duh. Malcolm Aaron Campbell: MAC. “That would give you time to run and get some shoes across the way.” I look down at my bare feet. Oops. I guess people don’t normally walk around barefooted.