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

as I

not your fault.” I give her shoulder a squeeze.

a little while, I help pick up the slack in the

the front door swings open, and

them tells me all that I need to

about them, and my heart sinks. They

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

whether I’m worthy of

bracing myself

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

arms over

Yes,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “They tripped

and there was damage

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

tired look with

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

them, but teenagers will

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

goes beyond a

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

lifting off my shoulders.

thought it would be a fitting punishment for them to help

cautiously, gauging their response.

nods, looking toward the kitchen.

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

fit should drive the

stunned. “I

the woman assures me. “It’s about time they learn a

causing trouble and not expect to deal with the

from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

subtly, a smile breaking through my

agree with

for an

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

glances at me,

gaze

the man says, shaking Karl’s

to have a serious

bar, suddenly drained

to me, his shoulder barely touching mine. “Not

escaping my lips. “But

chock full of surprises.”

glances at me, his eyes warm and comforting. “Some surprises are good,

his words. Maybe