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

as I approach.

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

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

front

them tells me all that I need to know: they have

them, and my heart

woman asks, her eyes scanning me up

worthy

reply, bracing myself for a potential scolding—or worse,

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

arms over

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

and there was damage to

for the outburst, the accusations, perhaps even threats of

exchanging a tired look with

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

in them, but

chimes in.

a joke.

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

lifting off my shoulders.

would be a fitting punishment for

cautiously, gauging their response.

looking toward the kitchen.

you’d be willing. A week of

should drive

sure?” I ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t

the woman assures me. “It’s about

causing trouble and not expect

wiping his hands on a towel. His eyes

I nod subtly, a smile breaking through

are the parents,” I explain. “They agree

for an entire

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

I would know.” He glances

gaze to my

the man says, shaking Karl’s

walk toward the kitchen, presumably to have a serious chat with

the bar, suddenly drained but

leans next to me, his shoulder barely touching mine. “Not

escaping my lips. “But these past couple of

chock full of surprises.”

and comforting. “Some

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