Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chatper 243

Abby

All I can do is watch, helpless, as Karl’s form recedes.

He’s being guided forcibly away by the firm hand of a security guard, and he’s

yelling something over the din of the crowd, the announcer, and the sounds of

cooking.

I can’t make out what he’s saying, but whatever it is, it’s frantic. But before I can

make sense of it, a microphone is suddenly shoved in my face, and the camera

blocks my view of Karl’s fading form.

“Abby, what’s happening? Does your sous chef often show such aggressive

behavior?” The announcer’s voice breaks through my train of thought, loud and

Enter title…

grating over the microphone. I feel frozen to my spot, unsure of what to do.

“I… Um… Excuse me,” I manage, pushing past the announcer and hurrying

toward the edge of the stage, toward where Karl and the security guard

disappeared to. But Mr. Thompson is already in my way, grabbing my arm and

yanking me out of the view of the camera.

“Abby, you can’t follow him,” Mr. Thompson hisses, his voice low. “Get back out

there.”

“But I need to—” I begin, but the words are cut off.

“No,” Mr. Thompson cuts in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “What you

need to do is finish your dish. This will be handled, don’t worry.”

“But Karl, he—”

taken care of,” he interrupts firmly. “The

You must continue

without

“It’s not fair. Daniel still has

not,” Mr. Thompson retorts with a regretful

not up to me. You do want to win,

concept seems so far from me now. It doesn’t feel

Karl. And I can’t do this all on

this is all okay,” I say.

This—this is a farce!”

anything,” Mr. Thompson replies.

it? To

at the station, at the

lights, the eyes on the stage—all of

right; I can’t just abandon it

have to go back,” Mr. Thompson murmurs, his voice lower now,

Karl would want you

without him.”

eyes for a fleeting second, letting

Thompson is

say, though each word feels hollow, even

dish, but I won’t let this lie.

one of them.”

squeezing my

Personally.”

on

been waiting for me all this time. The audience is

from

the timer hasn’t paused for

already wasted several minutes over

past the

like a ticking time bomb, a countdown to an explosion that may or

And I feel utterly helpless in this

make my way past Daniel’s station, I catch his eyes. He

his sous chef cooking with

injured. Daniel shoots me that look with that knowing glint

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