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

she says as I

I give her

pick up the slack in the dining area to relieve some of the anxiety

before the front door swings open, and

need to

about them, and my heart sinks.

the owner of this establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes scanning me

I’m worthy of

I am,” I reply, bracing myself for

here, washing dishes? Something about a prank?” the

arms over

the lump in my

there was damage to

accusations, perhaps even

exchanging a tired

says, shaking her head.

of responsibility in them, but teenagers

chimes in. “They told us it was a

goes beyond a

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

lifting off my shoulders.

a fitting punishment for them to help clean up,” I

cautiously, gauging their response.

toward the

if you’d be willing. A week of scrubbing your

fit should drive the

I ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t want

imposition,” the woman assures me. “It’s about time they learn a good lesson. You can’t

trouble and not expect to

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

a

I explain. “They agree with your punishment.

an

hand to each parent. “I appreciate your

I would know.” He glances at me, winking

gaze

man says,

walk toward the kitchen, presumably to have a serious chat

I lean against the bar, suddenly drained but

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

I say softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips. “But

chock full of surprises.”

eyes warm and comforting. “Some surprises are good,

the truth in his words. Maybe it’s the parents