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 I tried

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

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

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

around her friends who

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

What

working d mn hard to be

Abby deserves,” I snap, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s like no one

me a

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

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

has.”

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

Abby does see the changes in me. And maybe,

to rebuild

coffee table, ripping

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

you need to come home next weekend,” she says without preamble.

meeting. Can you come?”

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

it off any

gritting my teeth. “I’ll

life—the life I left behind and the one I’m

a constant juggling act, and sometimes I

again, pulling me

a sense of dread mingling with anticipation.

calling?

trying to keep

anxiety.

lost. And—”

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

by a

locking my apartment with

record time, my phone guiding

I drive, I find myself mulling over what the hell

throwing flour at each other like a couple

tells her to keep her distance. And now here I am,

the middle of the night

the villain in their narrative,

my phone indicates that I’m nearing

lit streets, eventually catching sight of her standing under