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

eyes, her hands

says as I

I give her shoulder

slack in the dining

But it’s not long before the front door swings open, and

I need to know: they

and my heart sinks. They

establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes scanning

whether I’m worthy

am,” I reply, bracing myself for a potential

dishes? Something about

his arms over his

in my throat. “They tripped one of my waitresses.

was damage

the outburst, the accusations, perhaps even threats of a

tired look

to deal with this,” she says, shaking her

responsibility in them, but teenagers will be

doesn’t excuse mean-spirited pranks,” the man chimes in. “They told us

a

their words. This is not the reaction I was expecting, but

lifting off my shoulders.

my… cooks, thought it would be a fitting punishment for them to help

cautiously, gauging their response.

man nods, looking toward

you’d be willing. A week of scrubbing your kitchen and doing whatever tasks

drive the

ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t want

an imposition,” the woman assures me. “It’s about time they learn a good

causing trouble and not expect to

emerges from the kitchen, wiping his hands on

I nod subtly, a smile breaking

explain. “They agree with

an entire

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

glances at

my gaze

settled,” the man says, shaking Karl’s hand

parents walk toward the kitchen, presumably to have a serious

lean against the bar, suddenly

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

all,” I say softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips.

chock full of surprises.”

and comforting. “Some surprises

I murmur, realizing the truth in his words. Maybe