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

says as

not your fault.” I give

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

before the front door swings open,

I need to know:

about them, and my heart

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

whether I’m worthy

I reply, bracing myself for a potential

us they’re here, washing dishes?

his arms over his

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

there was damage to our

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

a tired look

this,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ve been trying to instill

them, but teenagers will be teenagers,

the man chimes in. “They told us it was a joke,

goes beyond a joke. Someone got

This is not the reaction I was expecting,

lifting off my shoulders.

cooks, thought it would be a fitting punishment for them

cautiously, gauging their response.

fitting punishment indeed.” The man nods, looking toward the kitchen.

A week of scrubbing your kitchen and doing whatever tasks

should drive the message

you sure?” I ask, stunned. “I

“It’s about time they learn

expect to

then, Karl emerges from the kitchen, wiping his hands

nod subtly, a smile breaking through

agree with your punishment. Actually,

for an entire

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

learned in a kitchen. I would know.” He glances at me, winking subtly. My

my gaze to

it’s settled,” the man says, shaking

the kitchen, presumably to have

bar, suddenly drained but also immeasurably

shoulder barely touching mine. “Not what

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

chock full of surprises.”

and comforting.

his words.