Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 79: Mean Spirited
Abby

The lunchtime rush is finally easing up. Much unlike yesterday, it’s been a smooth day so far, and I feel

relieved; but that’s exactly when it happens.

I’m scanning the restaurant floor, making sure everything is running smoothly, when I hear the crash.

It’s a shocking mix of the sound of ceramic shattering, gasps, and the thud of a body hitting the floor,

followed by a loud “Ow!”

My heart lurches into my throat as I rush over to see one of my waitresses, Sarah, sprawled on the

ground amid a mess of broken dishes and spilled food.

“What happened?” I ask, my eyes darting around the room, locking onto a group of snickering

teenagers at a nearby table.

“I saw it,” Karl says, striding past me. “Those little s hits tripped her. Deliberately.”

In seconds, he’s at their table, his face dark with anger. “You think that was funny? Get up.”

“It was an accident!” one of the kids says, feigning innocence. But it’s clear that he’s full of sh it. They all

are.

I kneel beside Sarah, who’s clutching her wrist, her face pale. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I think so,” she mumbles, grimacing as she attempts to move. I call over two other employees to clean

the mess and guide Sarah to a chair.

Karl reappears, dragging the shame-faced teenagers behind him. “Apologize,” he commands, his voice

icy. They mumble sca ttered apologies, looking anywhere but at Sarah or me.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” Karl continues. “You’re washing dishes for the rest of the night. And if I see any of

you around here again causing trouble, you’re going to wish you never set foot in this place.”

“Karl, you can’t—” I begin, but my voice trails off with a look from Karl. A look I know all too well, one

that embodies his spirit of an Alpha.

I watch the teenagers slink off to the kitchen, led by Karl. The room is quiet now; even the low hum of

conversations has died down. But my focus is on Sarah, who is sitting by the bar and wiping tears from

her

Abby,” she says as I approach. “All that

fault.” I give her shoulder

in the dining area to relieve some of the

front door swings

need to know: they have that classic “I’d like to

about them, and my heart

of this establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes

worthy of

I reply, bracing myself

here, washing dishes? Something

his arms

lump in my throat. “They tripped

was damage

the accusations, perhaps even threats

a tired look with

you have to deal with this,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ve been trying to

responsibility in them, but

doesn’t excuse mean-spirited pranks,” the man chimes in.

beyond a joke. Someone got

words. This is not the reaction I was expecting, but it’s a relief,

lifting off my shoulders.

my… cooks, thought it would be a fitting punishment for them to help clean up,” I

cautiously, gauging their response.

toward the kitchen. “In fact, we’d

willing. A week of scrubbing your

should drive the

ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t want

assures me. “It’s about time they

and not expect

then, Karl emerges from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. His

I nod subtly, a smile breaking through

parents,” I explain. “They agree with your punishment. Actually, they want

an entire

each parent. “I appreciate your understanding. Trust me, there’s a lot

learned in a kitchen. I would know.” He glances

gaze

man says, shaking Karl’s hand

kitchen, presumably to have a serious

against the bar, suddenly

leans next to me, his shoulder barely touching mine. “Not what

say softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips.

chock full of surprises.”

at me, his eyes warm and

his words. Maybe it’s the parents