Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

My body feels as though it doesn’t belong to me as I stalk to the breakroom. I

feel like a puppet on strings that have been cut, like my limbs are made of lead

and my body might give out from beneath me at any moment.

When I’m alone in the breakroom once again, though, I can’t contain my fury

any longer.

“Dammit!” The word explodes out of my mouth, and without thinking, I whirl

around and let my shoe connect with the wall. There’s a faint but satisfying

crack, and when I pull away, there’s a slight dent where I unleashed my rage.

Enter title…

It’s almost laughable, seeing how small the dent is. It’s like my own body won’t

even do what I want, let alone the ingredients on that stage out there.

My mind is whirling with so many thoughts that I barely even register the door

creaking open. But then that venomous voice, that voice that I’ll hear in my

nightmares for years to come, slices through the air like an arrow whizzing past

my ear.

“Oh, Abby,” Daniel says, the sneer audible in his voice without me even having

to look at him. I can picture him without even turning around, that horrendous

the corners of his lips. “Having a little tantrum,

start, Daniel,” I hiss, leaning on the counter,

him.

he just chuckles. “What?” he says, coming closer

concerned, aren’t I?”

respond, but it seems as though that doesn’t

can feel my resolve beginning to crumble. “Boy, that sure was

really should’ve been you

It would have

my fists, my nails digging into

in earlier. The pain anchors me, if only a little. I can’t

him

continues, relentless as ever,

it? You never belonged

a—”

whirl around to face him, my eyes ablaze, my heart pounding in my

he spits out next is

but a stupid little slut

culinary world,” he hisses.

shatters inside of me. My resolve

distance between us,

with the force of my anger,

a chef. And an even worse excuse for

only widens, that infuriating, cocky smirk

won. “Struck a nerve, have

in my arm tense. Before I can stop myself, I’m stepping closer,

raised, my hand poised to slap him across

know he deserves it. He’s a rat, a cockroach, a stain

but he laughed while doing it, and now

nerve to spit slurs in my face

eyes flick down. He quickly glances at

see it—the flicker of doubt in