4. Morgan

Chapter 4

Morgan

"I haven't found him yet, but… he's miiiine," I slurred, blinking to bring the two copies of the bartender into one. I'd lost count of how many drinks I'd had.

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn't really listening. He was eyeing up the woman leaning over the end of the bar, her boobs barely contained in her top. She gave him a wink and a come-hither crook of her finger, and the bartender slopped my drink across the counter in his hurry to leave.

"Uh, yeah. He's yours," he said distractedly while he mopped up the spilled alcohol. But then he seemed to absorb what I'd been saying. "I gotta say, man. At some point you have to give it up as a lost cause. How long have you been trying to find him? "

"Three months," I groaned, dropping my forehead onto the counter and thunking it a few times as if it would shake something loose.

"Did you try that missed-connections website?" he asked, peeking back at the woman, trying to play it cool.

I huffed. "Trust me, I've tried it all. I put a flyer up in this small-town gas station near where I saw him, but all I got were a bunch of dick pics from strangers. I even thought about hiring a skywriter, but he might not see it through the trees."

"Well, I think you should consider the possibility that it's not meant to be. Maybe he doesn't want to be found. You're probably better off without him, wolf or not." He seemed to think "wolf" was a metaphor, like how bear meant a certain kind of man or something.

I scoffed, spittle flying from my lips, and the bartender leaned back to avoid the spray. "What do you know?" I sneered. "It's true love, I can feel it."

"Uh-huh," he said. "And I think I might've just found my own true love down there at the end of the bar. I've gotta go meet my future wife. Here, this one's on me." He grabbed a bottle from behind the counter and tipped the amber liquid into a shot glass. "Good luck finding your man. "

Frowning, I watched him go. Idiot. How could he mistake hormone-fueled lust for the ground-shifting all-encompassing love I'd experienced? They weren't even in the same galaxy.

I propped my elbow on the bar and cradled my chin in my hand, sighing. I hadn't been the same since I saw my wolf. Six—that was the number of times I'd gone back out to the woods over the past three months. I was getting better at it, too. I'd bought brand-new fancy gear, and it only took me like 20 minutes to set up a tent now. The last time, I'd spent an entire week camping in the spot where I'd seen him, hoping that maybe he would come back, looking for me. I'd missed so much work, in fact, that my boss had finally pulled me aside and told me if I missed another day this year, I would be fired. I hadn't bothered to go in the next morning, because what was a job compared to true love? I could find another job, but there was only one Rumpy.

Except the longer this wait dragged on, the lower I felt. That first eager excitement I'd felt had faded into something… ugly. I rubbed at my chest where an ache had moved in permanently. It felt like a piece of my very soul was missing .

This was a test, that had to be it. My loyalty and devotion were being tested, and when I proved that I would be his forever, we would be together at last. Together forever…

I pinched the shot glass between my fingers—carefully because it felt like my hands weren't actually attached to my body anymore—and tipped it up to my mouth. I choked and sputtered as the drink burned its way down like liquid fire, but I had to say, I quite liked the warmth that radiated all the way to my fingertips after it hit my belly.

Even though I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I felt nicely full… of booze. I giggled, which made me hiccup, which led to an acidic burp, and I winced, wondering if that last drink might've been a mistake after all.

"Oof, no more. Bad drinky." I heaved myself off the stool with a little more oomph than I'd intended, and the whole world tilted to an obscene angle—or maybe it was me who'd tipped, because a pair of hands caught me around the shoulders and set me right again.

"Easy does it, friend," a male voice said.

I looked down at where he was bracing me on the chest. His skin was pale and soft, his nails nicely manicured. I followed the arm, clothed in a fancy suit, up to his face. He was a slightly older gentleman, with a bit of silver-fox quality going on, and when he smiled at me, I found myself smiling back. "Better?" he asked gently.

"Uh-huh." I nodded, though I was pretty sure if he let go, I'd go ass over teakettle and end up face flat on the floor. Luckily, he didn't let go. He just chuckled lightly and patted me on the back.

"Why don't we sit you down over here. I'll get you some water." He led me over to a table in the corner and eased me down.

"Thhhanks," I slurred, rubbing my face and blinking hard. Why was it so hard to form words? The alcohol really crept up on me, and now my legs felt like jelly. On the plus side, though, at least that hollow ache in my chest had dulled a bit.

I might've dozed off for a second, because I was startled what felt like just a few seconds later as the stranger returned carrying a glass of water and a burger and fries in a red plastic basket. "There you are," he said, setting it all down in front of me. "A little bit of greasy food will help soak that all up."

I hadn't even thought I was hungry, but I was proven wrong when I descended on that food like a lion on a gazelle, grabbing that burger with both hands and shoving it straight in my mouth. It was all the meaty, cheesy goodness I never knew I needed in my life. "Thanks," I mumbled around my first mouthful.

He lowered into the seat beside me and crossed his arms over the table, bringing him right to the edge of my personal space—my sober space, anyway. Drunk me felt like hugging this man who'd brought me life-sustaining munchies. There was a weird scent on him, kind of chemically, that reminded me of the science lab at my old high school. "My name is Eric. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the bartender. Sounds like you really miss this man of yours."

Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I nodded. "Yeah, I really do." I set the burger down and finished chewing my mouthful.

"What's your name?" Eric asked.

"Morgan."

"Well, Morgan, I was thinking maybe I could help you find him. I have a lot of connections, access to restricted networks not available to the public. Maybe if you told me a little bit about him…?" He smiled encouragingly, and I sighed.

I picked up a fry and nibbled on it, debating what to tell this curious stranger. "I don't know how much I can tell you about him, not even his name, since it wasn't like we sat down for coffee and talked about our families or our likes and dislikes or anything. I know this is going to sound farfetched. How could I possibly be in love with someone I only saw for a handful of seconds, but I just… know , you know? He's mine . The second our eyes met, it was like this hook sank into my soul and tied me forever to him. He's not like anyone I've ever met before and not just because he's… well…"

Eric leaned in and whispered, all conspiratorial, "Because he's a wolf?"

The way he said it wasn't like the bartender, who'd misunderstood, or my psychiatrist who thought I was delusional. He said it like he believed me. True belief, not just mild interest. "Yes!" I hissed back, shoving the food aside so I could lean closer, until we were sharing the same air. "My shrink thinks I was hallucinating, but I know what I saw."

"I believe you," he said, nodding frantically.

I examined his face for signs that he was lying or pulling my leg, but he seemed genuine, even eager. A tiny ping of unease sounded in the back of my mind, but it was easy to ignore. I'd been so desperate for someone to believe me. My boss, my co-workers, the panhandler in front of my apartment building, the guy who worked at the Q-Cup on the corner. Anyone! And now, here was this guy not even questioning it .

"Have you seen him before?" Then I gasped, a new thought popping into my head. "Or someone else like him?" Of course there were others! Why hadn't I thought of that?

He held his hands up, placating. "Now, I don't have any firsthand knowledge myself, just what I've heard from a friend, but I think there might be a lot of them. They might even be living among us, right here in Fairhome." He nodded slowly, letting that statement linger in the air between us.

Goosebumps prickled my skin, my heart stuttering in my chest. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder at the other bar patrons. Any one of them could burst from their skin at any moment! One second a crowd, the next an entire pack of beasts! What would happen if I stood up on the table right now and announced to everyone that I was looking for my wolf? Maybe one of them was a friend of his.

When I looked back, I swore Eric had this manic smile, but by the time I gave a long blink to rest my sandpaper-dry eyes, his face was back to his friendly curiosity. "So, why don't you could show me on a map where you saw him? It'll give us somewhere to start looking." He pulled out his phone and opened the map app, setting it down on the table between us .

That little alarm bell in my brain had been quiet at first, but it was getting louder. I shook my head, trying to clear my jumbled thoughts. I blinked down at the lit screen, my vision blurry, and when I reached up to rub my eyes, I found nothing in the way. I looked back toward where I'd been sitting at the bar. "Where are my glasses?"

"You don't need your glasses," Eric said tightly, pushing his phone closer. "You just need to point to where you saw him. Surely you can do that much."

His voice had pitched higher, and now that I took a second to look closer, I saw the muscles around his mouth were tight, and his hands were shaking.

Unease crept deeper into my bones, the distillery I'd poured into my stomach sloshing uncomfortably. "Why?" I asked.

Eric frowned but tried to stifle it. "Why what?"

"Why do you want to help me? What are you getting out of this?" I'd never been what you'd call bold or brave, but this was my wolfy-poo we were talking about here. For him, I would grow a spine.

"Well, I…" I could see the gears churning behind his eyes; he was trying to come up with an excuse. "Who doesn't love a good romance? I just want to see you get your happy ending," he said with a laugh that sounded forced .

After a long moment of me glaring at him, he sagged in his chair, his beaming smile slipping straight off. "Look, lemme be real with you for a second. I've been so fascinated with shifters my whole life, ever since my grandpa said he saw a woman turn into an eagle and fly away. Just… poof ! Amazing, right? It's the stuff of legends and fairy tales. And when I overheard you talking with the bartender, well, I guess I just thought maybe you might let me meet your wolf." He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.

"And all that stuff about special networks you have access to?"

"I mean… I'm good with a computer?"

I growled low in the back of my throat, and I couldn't help but think my wolfman would've been proud of it. "No."

"Oh, come on," he whined, grabbing my arm when I tried to back away. "I meant it when I said I'd help you find him. I thought you said you missed him. Wouldn't it all be worth it if I could track him down for you?" He sounded desperate, his grip on me tight enough to bruise.

"Let go," I hissed, jerking my arm back hard. "You're hurting me!"

My rising voice had heads turning, and more than a few alphas looked ready to interfere. The bartender made his way over. "Is there a problem here?" He was looking at me, and when Eric tried to explain, the man held his hand up and said, "I wasn't asking you. Well?" he said, turning back to me.

"Yes, there's a problem. I want to go home. Now."

The bartender nodded. "I'll call you a cab. And you," he added, jabbing his finger at Eric. "You're going to stay seated right there until after he leaves. Got it?"

Eric's upper lip curled in a sneer. "Yeah, I got it," he snapped.

I shuddered. The guy looked nothing like he'd first appeared, just a nice guy offering a hand. His body language was tense, with a whole repressed-violence vibe going on. How had I not noticed it? Was I that drunk?

The bartender, whose named turned out to be Mike, tracked down my glasses and waited with me until the cab pulled up out front, then made sure I was sober enough to get home safely. "Call the bar if you need anything," he said. "I'll be here till three, and I'm working most nights."

"Thanks," I told him genuinely. Just before the cab pulled away from the curb, I looked back at him out the window, and I swore his eyes had a weird sheen to them, reflecting the light much like a cat's would. My jaw dropped, but I blinked and it was gone, so fast I was sure I' d imagined it.

I obviously drank way too much, I thought, rubbing my eyes. What I really needed was a good night's sleep.

The entire ride home, I thought over what Eric had offered. Would he really have been able to help me find my mystery man? Should I have considered it? All instincts said no, but I was just bordering on desperate enough to do anything at this point.

The cab dropped me off at my apartment, and I slogged my way up the front steps and into the elevator. When I was spit out at my floor, I dragged my feet down the hall, unlocked my apartment door, and dropped my jacket and keys right there. Sighing, I slid down to the floor, leaning heavily against the door. What the hell was happening to me? I didn't feel like myself. Maybe I needed to see my doctor. What if I had a brain tumor or something, making me believe things that weren't true?

Even as I thought about it, though, my heart told me that wasn't it. I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't sick. It didn't make sense to call what I felt love, but it was somehow bigger than love.

Since I'd had to abandon my food mostly untouched at the bar, I forced myself up off the floor and headed to the kitchen to make a sandwich. I'd lost a bit of weight lately, between all the hiking and the stress, but I was already pretty scrawny to begin with. I couldn't really afford to lose more.

Carrying my sandwich to bed with me, I flopped on top of the covers fully dressed. "Where are you?" I asked out loud, hoping that somehow my words would be carried through the ether to my man's ears.

As I took a bite of my sandwich, I looked down at my arm where bruises had started to rise. I traced my fingertip over the outline of Eric's grip. My mouthful of food was hard to swallow, turning into paste as a tingle of fear managed to work its way through the drunk haze.

He wanted to find my wolf, and no matter his explanation, it was clearly not for any altruistic purpose. What if my wolf needed to know there was someone looking for him? What if he needed my help? I knew logically that it was getting too cold at night to go camping, but now, when it was late and I had more alcohol than blood in my veins, I could convince myself of anything.

I refused to go all winter without seeing him again. Just one… more… trip… I thought, yawning as I drifted off to sleep, sandwich in hand.