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.

she’d told me, her voice heavy with

my friends,

my face, the weight of the past settling on

ever have a chance with

tiptoeing around her friends who can’t stand

best husband,” my wolf remarks, a touch of reproach in his tone. “You left Abby.

her. What do

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

deserves,” I snap, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like

even willing to give me

sees it,” my wolf whispers, his voice softening. “She

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

has.”

into the chair, letting the words sink in, a tiny glimmer of hope in

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

rebuild what

coffee table, ripping me from

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

need to come home next weekend,” she says without preamble. “Your Council has called

meeting. Can you come?”

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

off

my teeth. “I’ll be

up, feeling the weight of my double life—the life I left behind

and sometimes I drop

me back to

of dread mingling with anticipation. It’s late. Why would she

calling?

to

It’s me,” she stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off

lost. And—”

to get you,” I interrupt, my heart pounding. In a second, all

a primal

locking my apartment with an urgency

car in record time, my phone guiding me to

over what the hell is going on between Abby

throwing flour at each other like a couple of

best friend tells her to keep her distance. And now here I

of the night

their narrative, or just a casualty

as my phone indicates that

catching sight of her standing under a