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 disappointment when

to my friends, then don’t expect any

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

ever have a

life tiptoeing around her friends who can’t

weren’t the best husband,” my wolf remarks, a touch

her. What do

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

voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like

even willing to give me a chance

it,” my wolf whispers, his voice softening. “She might not

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

has.”

words sink in, a tiny glimmer

see the

rebuild what

table, ripping me from my internal monologue. The

Gianna, my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

home next weekend,” she says without preamble.

meeting. Can you come?”

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

off any

say, gritting my teeth. “I’ll

the weight of my double life—the life I left behind and the one I’m struggling to

constant juggling act, and

buzzes again, pulling me back

a sense of dread mingling

calling?

I answer, trying to keep

voice tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off the subway. I’m a

lost. And—”

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

evaporate, replaced by a primal

door, locking my apartment with

in my car in record time,

over what the hell is going on between Abby

other like a couple of lovestruck teens,

friend tells her to keep her distance. And now

of the night when she needs me

villain in their narrative, or just

thought is cut short as my phone indicates that I’m

streets, eventually catching sight of her standing under