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.

me, her voice heavy with disappointment

be nice to my friends, then don’t expect

weight of the past settling on my shoulders. “Is

I ask out loud. “If I ever have a chance with

life tiptoeing around her friends

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

her. What do

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

bitterness.

even willing to give me

softening. “She might not fully realize it yet, but she

you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t allow you back into her life, even in the small ways that

has.”

words sink in, a tiny

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

to rebuild what I’ve

phone buzzes on the coffee table, ripping me from my

my ever-efficient

“Hello?”

weekend,” she

meeting. Can you come?”

since

it off

gritting my teeth.

the weight of my double life—the life I left behind

act, and

if on cue, my phone buzzes again, pulling me back

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

calling?

to

she stammers, her voice tinged with anxiety. “I had to get off the subway. I’m

lost. And—”

coming to get you,” I interrupt, my heart

replaced by a primal urge to

grab my coat and head for the door, locking my apartment with an urgency

my car in record time, my

mulling over what the hell is going on between Abby

we’re throwing flour at each other like a couple of

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

of the night when she

really the villain in their narrative, or just a casualty

my phone indicates that I’m nearing Abby’s

eventually catching sight of her standing under