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.

to Chloe,” she’d told me, her voice heavy with disappointment when I tried to kiss

my friends, then don’t expect any

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

be?” I ask out loud. “If I ever

around her

my wolf remarks, a touch of reproach in his tone. “You left

her. What do you

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

with bitterness. “But it’s like no one can see

me a chance to

his voice softening. “She might not

she wouldn’t allow you back into her life,

has.”

sink in, a tiny

see the changes in me. And maybe, just maybe, that will

to rebuild what I’ve

the coffee table, ripping me

my

“Hello?”

home next weekend,” she

meeting. Can you come?”

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

it off any

I say, gritting my teeth.

my double life—the life I left

and sometimes I drop the

my phone buzzes again, pulling me back to the present. This

over the green button, a sense of dread mingling with anticipation. It’s late. Why would she

calling?

answer, trying to

voice tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off the

lost. And—”

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

a primal urge

the door, locking

in record time, my phone guiding me to

find myself mulling over what the hell is going

each other like a couple of lovestruck teens, and the

out of her life because her best friend tells her to keep her distance. And now here I

in the middle of the night

the villain in their narrative, or just a casualty of their

my phone indicates that I’m nearing

lit streets, eventually catching sight of her standing