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

sorry, Abby,” she says as I

give her

while, I help pick up the slack in the dining area to relieve some of the anxiety

long before the front door swings open, and a couple strides

that I need to know: they have

heart sinks. They must be

you the owner of this establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes scanning me up and down

I’m worthy

I am,” I reply, bracing myself for a

informed us they’re here, washing dishes? Something about a prank?”

his arms over

lump in my throat. “They tripped one of my waitresses. She’s

there was damage to

wait for the outburst, the accusations, perhaps even threats of a lawsuit. But instead,

a tired look with her

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

of responsibility in them, but teenagers will be teenagers,

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

a joke. Someone

their words. This is not the reaction I was

lifting off my shoulders.

would be a fitting punishment

cautiously, gauging their response.

indeed.” The man nods, looking toward

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

fit should drive the

sure?” I ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t

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

trouble and not expect to

from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. His eyes meet

subtly, a smile

“They agree with

an

grins, extending a hand to each parent. “I appreciate your understanding. Trust me,

glances at

my gaze to my

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

presumably to have a serious chat with their d

I lean against the bar, suddenly drained but

barely touching mine.

all,” I say softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips. “But these past couple of days

chock full of surprises.”

warm and comforting. “Some

I murmur, realizing the truth in his words. Maybe it’s the parents owning