Chapter 2
Harper
The next morning, I wake with my stomach growling. Cora keeps touching her stomach with sad eyes, and I know what that means. The peanuts from the vending machine at the mechanic were a long time ago, and she’s hungry.
We’re down to our last few dollars, but Cora needs to eat.
I’ve never been comfortable eating in front of others anyway—which is leftover bullshit from being with a pack who used to comment on every bite I took—but I can’t stand to watch Cora get thinner. I owe her so much more than that.
So we get up and put on fresh clothes for the day, washing up in the tiny bathroom the little motel room has to offer.
We walk into the center of town, and I stop a bit to take in the scenery around me.
Silver Falls is gorgeous in the early morning.
There’s still a crispness in the air and morning light sparkles on the dew-covered buildings and streetlights.
In the background, the mountains stretch up into the clouds, everything lush and green.
We’re on Main Street, and each building represents a local business, opening up for the morning. People call out to each other as they begin their days, and it’s clear we’ve walked right into a scene that happens like clockwork every day here.
It’s like a postcard, or something from a cheesy holiday movie, and I can’t decide if that’s comforting or terrifying.
I don’t have too much time to dwell on it.
Cora tugs on my hand, and I look down to see her pointing toward a yellow building with a sign overhead that reads Dolly’s Diner. That’s where the smell of syrup and frying bacon seems to be coming from, and Cora touches her stomach again.
“Okay,” I tell her, swallowing hard. “We’ll go check it out.”
Inside, we’re immediately set upon by a hurricane of a woman. I barely have time to take in the flour dusted apron and silver bouffant before piercing green eyes are boring into me.
“Good morning, good morning,” the woman says. Probably Dolly herself, if I had to guess. “Come right this way, you two.”
I blink, but we hurry to follow her, ending up at a booth right by the window.
“Best table in the house,” the woman says, winking at Cora.
We can see people walking by down the street from our spot, and Cora turns wide eyes out the window, taking it all in.
“Oh,” I say, trying not to cringe back from the force of this lady. “You didn’t have to do that. We… we would have been fine anywhere.”
She waves that away. “Nonsense. I could tell when you walked in that you could use some pampering, and since it’s my place, I get to decide who sits where. Now. You’re new in town?”
“Just passing through.”
She nods. “What brings you to our little slice of the world?”
Dolly doesn’t ask like she’s prying, more like she’s just making conversation the way someone who runs a business in a small town is used to, but it sets me on edge either way.
This is already way too much attention, more than I ever wanted when we walked in here, but there’s no real way for me to tell her to mind her own business without making a scene.
People aren’t staring, but I catch curious glances thrown our way as diners go about their meals or walk up to the counter to pay, and that’s the problem with towns this small and rural in a nutshell.
Everybody knows everybody, so when someone’s out of place, everyone immediately knows it. Worse, they’re nosy about it.
No one’s being rude or too overt, but I can feel their eyes on us, and I hate it.
“Had some car trouble on the highway,” I force myself to say, keeping my tone light. “We ended up here because it was the closest place to get a tow to.” I don’t mention Cash because I’m sure she knows him.
“Well, let me know what I can get you two,” Dolly says, not pressing any further. “We’ll get you fed before you get back on the road.” She puts a menu in front of me and another in front of Cora and heads off with another wink.
My stomach churns with hunger and dread as I pick up the menu and flip it open.
The sad thing is nothing here is even that expensive.
Ten bucks for a huge stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon isn’t enough to be a blip on most people’s radars.
But I’m doing my mental math and it’s just too much to pay for one meal.
Especially since I still need gas for Lettie and to pay for however much the parts Paul needs are going to be.
Food comes first, especially for Cora, but if I spend the last of the little reserves we have, we’ll be stuck here.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.
Of course Cora has her menu open and is staring at the pictures with wide, hungry eyes. It feels stupidly cruel to show a four year old pictures of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream and then be forced to tell her all she can have is toast and maybe an egg if we’re lucky.
I’m running another calculation in my head, trying to see if there’s any way to stretch the money I have, when the door to the diner opens and the atmosphere shifts immediately.
Two men walk in, and I know immediately that they’re Alphas. The way they carry themselves, the way the entire presence of the place seems to shift to accommodate them… there’s no hiding it.
One of them steps in first, and I take him in from under my lashes.
He’s wearing a sheriff’s uniform, and he moves with the authority that the job entails.
Everything about him screams controlled intensity, like there’s an energy just under his skin that he’s keeping reined in.
His eyes are dark, and they flick around the diner, not missing a thing. I silently hope he doesn’t notice me.
The second one comes in after him, pale where the sheriff was dark.
He flicks sandy hair out of haunted blue-green eyes and then shoves his hands back into his pockets.
His face is set into broody lines, and where his companion seems to be taking in everything, this one doesn’t seem to look at anything at all in particular.
They’re both built like they could toss me over their shoulders without breaking a sweat, and I swallow hard, trying to quietly slouch down in the booth to avoid being noticed.
But of course, Dolly gave us the best table in the diner, so they notice me immediately.
Even the broody one looks over, and I feel caught. Fuck. Can this morning get any worse?
I duck my head, pretending to study my menu intently, willing myself to go invisible and be uninteresting enough to escape them noticing me further. Even with my head down, I can feel their scrutiny though. There’s no hiding from it.
Worse, having two Alphas staring me down makes my Omega instincts go haywire.
Part of it is fear. There’s a prickling under my arms as the stress sweat starts up, and my heart is pounding in my chest so hard I worry they’ll be able to hear it.
The rest is that pull though. Even with suppressants, there’s always that pull.
Alphas are magnetic, electric in a way that my instincts are so drawn to.
While everything in my head is screaming at me to ignore them, to disappear and stay away, there’s something in my body that pokes its head up to ask ‘but what if we didn’t? ’.
It’s stupid and dangerous, and I try to squash it as firmly as I can.
Dolly comes swooping back over to us, pulling a pen out from behind her ear.
“Everything all right over here, loves?” she asks.
“Um,” I manage. I lean in and drop my voice. “Who are those two guys? Who just came in?”
There’s apparently no such thing as privacy or quiet here, because she turns her head to look at the two Alphas and answers at full volume. “Them? That’s Sheriff Everett Kane and Lincoln Daniels from the fire department,” she says. “They’re good boys. Salt of the earth people, you know?”
Whatever ground I’d gained from pretending to be invisible is definitely gone now, and both Alphas are looking at us all over again.
“Why?” Dolly asks, one hand on her hip.
“Oh. Just, um… I was just wondering.”
She smiles at me. “I get it, honey. When I was younger, I would have had my head turned by men like that too.”
My cheeks flare with heat, and if it wasn’t for needing to feed Cora, I would walk right out of here as fast I could.
“It’s—it’s not like that,” I stammer.
“Mmhmm. Now, what can I get for you two? I see your little lady eyeing those waffles on the menu.”
Cora looks up, and her expression is close enough to longing that my chest cracks open with a sharp kind of grief.
“Sorry, baby,” I murmur to Cora. “No waffles today.” I order the cheapest things I can find on the menu. White toast and scrambled eggs for Cora, who doesn’t even complain at being denied the waffles. I can’t even afford to get her juice with her breakfast, and she doesn’t pout when I order water.
“And for you?” Dolly asks.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. That’s all.”
I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I’m being stared at again, and when I glance over at the table a few spots over where the two Alphas have settled, they’re both looking this way again.
Dolly follows my gaze and lifts an eyebrow when the sheriff—Everett—gestures her over.
“I’ll put that in for you,” Dolly says and then goes over to the Alphas. “And what can I get for you, Sheriff Kane?”
“Not for us,” Everett says. His voice is low and rich, and that little, stupid part of me is trying to poke its head up all over again.
“For them. The waffles for the little girl, extra whipped cream if she’s allowed to have it.
Eggs with cheese, bacon and sausage.” He pauses and eyes me before nodding shortly.
“The French toast platter with hashbrowns, sausage, and orange juice for the table. Put it on my tab.”
I blink, caught off guard and completely stunned by the gesture. “You don’t have to do that,” I say quickly. “We’re fine, you don’t need to—”
“I want to,” he says in that low voice. There’s a finality to it, like it’s better not to argue with him, but he somehow manages to make it not threatening.
For her part, Dolly is beaming. She gives me a look that clearly says she was right about these Alphas being good guys. “Coming right up,” she says. “And I’ll bring out a pot of coffee for you two.” She dashes away before I can say anything else.
My cheeks burn, and it’s part shyness, part humiliation. It’s clear that these two men can see what I am. Despite the suppressors that I’ve been taking to tame my hormones, it’s written all over me that I’m a rejected Omega, from the way I hold myself to the faint marks on my neck.
I’m the kind of charity case that makes good Alphas feel noble.
The shame makes my skin crawl, but… Cora. She’s sitting up in her seat, and her eyes are brighter than they’ve been in ages. I can’t deny her this chance to get some real food in her, especially since I have no idea when the next time she’ll be able to eat a real meal will be.
I keep my eyes on the polished laminate of the table top, tracing old condensation rings left behind from hundreds of other diners over the years.
It doesn’t take long for the food to come out, and even I have to admit that it smells amazing. It’s a feast compared to what we’ve been eating lately, which usually consists of dinners put together from fast food value meals and gas station snacks.
The server sets a huge plate in front of Cora, and her eyes go wide at the mound of whipped cream on her waffle. There are just as many strawberries at least, and a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs with cheese melted into them.
The French toast is golden and griddled to perfection, and the bacon and sausage smell savory in a way that makes my mouth water.
When I glance up, Everett is watching our table again, like he wants to make sure that everything came out well. I swallow and force myself to speak up.
“Thank you,” I say. It’s weak, the shame making it hard to put anything else into it, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He lifts his coffee cup in a little toast and then goes back to his conversation with Lincoln.
Cora looks at me, a question in her eyes. She hasn’t touched anything yet, like she’s waiting for permission. That more than anything breaks any final resistance to accepting this meal.
“Go ahead,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “We get a treat this morning.”
That’s all it takes. Cora pours syrup on her plate and digs in, getting her hands sticky and her face covered in whipped cream.
I apply myself to my own breakfast, biting into a sausage link and trying not to moan with pleasure at the taste of it. It’s a little spicy and perfectly salty, and my body is remembering with vivid clarity that it’s been days since I ate anything even approaching enough.
I savor every bite, but all the while I’m definitely aware that the Alphas are watching us from the counter.
They’re having their own conversation, which I can’t really hear, but the low murmur of their voices is a constant sound.
I can feel their curiosity like a physical weight, which means I have their attention and now they’re trying to figure me out.
That’s the last thing I want.
It would be nice to linger over a meal like this, but that would be dumb. The best thing to do is to eat enough and then get out of here. The sooner I get back to the garage, the sooner I can pick up the car and we can get back on the road and leave this little town with its nosy Alphas behind.
So I eat as quickly as I can and then wave Dolly back over. Luckily, Cora has stuffed herself with waffles and eggs, and is sitting back with her hands on her stomach, blinking slowly.
“Something else I can get, love?” Dolly asks, smiling.
“No, can we just get some to-go boxes, please?” I say it as kindly as I can.
She nods and disappears around a corner, coming back and helping to box up everything we have left. Some of it won’t be in the best shape after being in a car for however long it takes us to get to our next stop, but we’re not in a place where we can worry about that.
She gives us bags to put all the containers in, and I wrap it all up, taking Cora’s hand to help her out of the booth. Before either man can approach our table again, I’m slipping out the front door and letting it close behind me.
I can breathe a sigh of relief as we start walking away, before people start asking questions I’m not ready to answer.