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.

jerk to Chloe,” she’d told me, her voice heavy with disappointment

be nice to my friends, then

down my face, the weight

ask out loud. “If I ever have a chance with Abby again, am

life tiptoeing around her

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

What do you

working d mn hard to be a better man—to be

bitterness. “But it’s like no one

willing to give me a chance to prove

voice softening. “She might not fully

she wouldn’t allow you back into her life, even in

has.”

sink in, a tiny glimmer of hope in a sea of

my wolf is right. Maybe Abby does see the changes in me.

to rebuild what I’ve

the coffee table,

Gianna, my

“Hello?”

next weekend,” she says without preamble. “Your Council has

meeting. Can you come?”

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

it off

I say, gritting my

life I left behind and the one

act, and sometimes

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

of dread mingling with

calling?

answer, trying to keep

tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off the

lost. And—”

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

replaced by a primal urge

the door, locking my apartment with an urgency that mirrors my

car in record time, my phone guiding

I find myself mulling over what the

throwing flour at each other like a couple of lovestruck teens,

out of her life because her best friend tells her

in the middle of the night when she

villain in their narrative, or just a

phone indicates that I’m nearing Abby’s

streets, eventually catching sight of her standing under