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

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

even start, Daniel,” I hiss, leaning on the counter, still not turning to

him.

“What?” he says, coming closer now. “I’m

concerned, aren’t I?”

not to respond, but it seems as though that

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

there. You know, maybe it really should’ve

have saved you the

into my palms despite the sting

pain anchors me, if

letting him

he continues, relentless as ever, his words dripping

it’s fitting, isn’t it? You never belonged

a—”

him, my eyes ablaze, my heart pounding in my chest.

spits out next is vile, demeaning,

stupid little slut who belongs in the

culinary world,” he hisses.

though something shatters inside of me. My resolve has crumbled;

I close the distance between us,

I hiss, my voice trembling with the force of my anger, “are a

for a chef. And an even worse excuse for

cocky smirk of

“Struck a nerve, have

tense. Before I can stop

raised, my hand poised to slap him

it. He’s a rat, a cockroach, a

me and Karl, but he laughed while doing

the nerve to spit slurs in my face like

eyes flick down. He quickly glances at

of doubt in his gaze, the realization that