Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 58: Getaway Driver
I’m pacing my living room, a glass of whiskey in hand, lost in my thoughts. The night has been a

coc ktail of emotions—high spirits at the party, laughter with Abby… And then, of course, there was the

palpable tension with Chloe.

I thought I had managed to keep my feelings under wraps, maintain the casual facade. But Chloe had

to go and ruin it, filling the air with words like poison darts.

“Stay away from him,” she had whispered to Abby, not knowing that I was within earshot.

Who the hell does she think she is?

I throw myself onto the leather chair, my fingers gripping the armrests, the echo of Chloe’s words still

fresh in my mind. “Stay away from him,” she had said, as though her voice could erect a wall between

Abby and me—a wall I’m not certain even I could scale at this point.

“What is her problem?” I growl to myself, my thoughts a whirlwind of frustration.

“She clearly dislikes you,” my wolf interjects, his voice a rumbling presence in the depths of my

consciousness.

“You think I can’t see that? And it’s not the first time, either,” I retort, my mind slipping back in time, to

another party, another confrontation.

It had been a similar occasion. Friends, laughter, a lively atmosphere.

Abby had been radiant, the center of my universe. But then Chloe had started arguing with me. About

what, I can barely remember.

What I do recall is the anger, my territorial instincts flaring up, the undeniable urge to assert my

dominance. I had ended up kicking her out of the party.

The aftermath was equally vivid. Abby had been furious, her eyes ablaze with a fire I had rarely seen.

“You’re trying to ruin my friendships, Karl,” she had yelled, her voice strained with emotion. She had left

with Chloe, her best friend, her confidant. Abby hadn’t come home for two days. When she finally did,

the atmosphere between us had been colder than a winter night.

were a jerk to Chloe,” she’d told me, her voice heavy with disappointment when I tried

you can’t be nice to my friends, then don’t expect any affection from

my hands down my face, the weight of the past settling on my shoulders. “Is

ask out loud. “If I ever have a chance

tiptoeing around her friends who

the best husband,” my wolf remarks, a touch of reproach

her. What

d mn hard to be a better man—to be

tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like no one can

give me a chance to

voice softening. “She

you back into her life, even in the

has.”

back into the chair, letting the words sink in, a tiny

right. Maybe Abby does see the changes in me. And maybe, just maybe,

to rebuild what I’ve

the coffee table, ripping me from

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

come home next weekend,” she says without

meeting. Can you come?”

responsibilities I’ve been skirting ever since I moved to the city. I

off any

gritting my teeth.

double life—the life I left

constant juggling act, and sometimes I

pulling me back to the present. This time, it’s Abby. My

dread

calling?

to keep my

tinged with anxiety. “I had to get

lost. And—”

location. I’m coming to get you,” I interrupt, my

by a primal

my coat and head for the door, locking my apartment with an

car in record time, my phone guiding me to

mulling over what the hell is going on between Abby and

we’re throwing flour at each other like a

because her best friend tells her

the night

villain in their narrative,

indicates that I’m nearing Abby’s location. My

lit streets, eventually catching sight of her standing under a