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.

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

my friends, then don’t expect any

my hands down my face, the weight of the past settling on

“If I ever have a chance with Abby again, am I

life tiptoeing around her friends who can’t

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

What do you

I screwed up. And I’m working d mn hard to be a better man—to be the kind

with bitterness. “But it’s like no

give me a chance to

“She might not fully realize it yet, but she

she wouldn’t allow you back into

has.”

chair, letting the words sink in, a tiny glimmer of hope in a sea of doubt and

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

to rebuild

on the coffee table, ripping me from

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

weekend,” she says without preamble.

meeting. Can you come?”

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

off any

I say, gritting my teeth.

life—the life I

act, and sometimes

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

green button, a sense of dread mingling with anticipation. It’s

calling?

answer, trying to keep my voice

she stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I had

lost. And—”

me your location. I’m coming to get you,” I interrupt, my heart pounding. In a second,

by a primal urge to

coat and head for the door, locking my apartment

I’m in my car in record time, my phone guiding

what

at each other like a

best friend tells her to keep her

middle of the night when she needs me

villain in their narrative, or just a casualty of their

my phone indicates that I’m

streets, eventually catching sight of her