Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 95: A Helping Hand

Abby

“Need a hand?”

Just as I’m about to toss the greasy pan into the soapy water to soak overnight and call it a night, I hear

the all-too-familiar voice call out from behind me, and everything seems to stop. It’s all I can do to stiffly

turn around, my eyes widening and my heart pounding.

There he is, standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and his hair slightly tousled. I should be

excited to see him, but I’m not.

The nerve of him, showing up like this, after everything.

“Karl?”

“Hey, Abby.” A soft smile graces his lips, but instead of charming me like it used to, it just fills me with

rage.

“Karl, what the hell are you doing here?” My voice comes out so low that it’s hardly more than a growl.

He pauses, as though searching for the right words. Finally, when he speaks, it somehow fills me with

even more rage than before. “I miss you, Abby. Let’s work this out.”

“Work this out?” I think to myself. The thought of it almost makes me laugh, but at the same time, I

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can’t hold in my rage anymore. In a knee-jerk reaction, I rip off my apron and hurl it at him, although I

would really prefer to hurl the frying pan instead.

“Get out, Karl!” I spit the words out like venom, my voice laden with a mixture of anger, surprise, and a

hint of betrayal. “You have no right to be here! I’m not working anything out with you!”

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Karl, calm and collected as ever, dodges the flying apron. His eyes never leave mine, and his

expression remains surprisingly level and open. He steps forward, cautiously, as if approaching a

wounded animal.

“Abby, please,” he begins, his voice tinged with an emotion I can’t quite place. “Just hear me out,

okay?”

“I said, get out!” My voice booms across the kitchen, but there’s a wavering sense of emotion in its

underlying tone that I can’t quite hide. Seeing him makes me want to cry, laugh, and scream all at

once.

It’s only been a week since I last saw him, and yet somehow it feels like an eternity. Even now, as we

stand across the room from one another, I can feel my wolf stirring ever so slightly.

Karl seems unperturbed by my demands and takes another step forward, his eyes wide with what

could look like sincerity if I didn’t know better.

“Please, Abby, I just wanted to talk to you.”

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“Oh, you wanted to talk?” I scoff, my voice failing to hide the unmistakable waver in it. “You lost your

talking privileges when you did what you did with Adam. Leave. Now.”

But, ignoring my icy reception, Karl steps closer. In fact, he does more than that. In a few long strides,

he closes the distance between us, backing me up against the wall. I feel myself stiffen as his arms

wrap around me, pulling me into the warmth of his chest.

I should push him away. I should scream and tell him to get the hell out of my life, my restaurant, my

kitchen. But I can’t.

As much as I hate to admit it, his arms around me feel like a missing piece snapping back into place. I

feel the wolf inside me stir, her senses heightening at his touch, her anxiety ebbing away. The burden

of tension that’s been accumulating inside me starts to lift, ever so slightly.

“Karl, you can’t just walk in here like you still belong,” I say, finally mustering up the strength to shove

him away. It’s my way of trying to put some semblance of distance between us, both physical and

emotional, but I’m not sure if it works. “Not after what you did to me.”

“I know,” he concedes, his arms loosening around me but not entirely breaking our contact. “I can’t

change what I did, Abby. But I had to see you.”

I can’t believe Karl’s audacity, standing here like he still has a right to be a part of my life. I’m holding

back a tsunami of emotions, wrestling with anger, confusion, and a haunting sense of longing.

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My wolf almost seems to pace restlessly inside of me, equally agitated and conflicted, although I have

a suspicion that she’s more agitated at me right now than at him, as angry as it makes me.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” I finally snap, glaring at him with unrestrained fury. “You gave

Adam those rare ingredients, knowing fully well what they would mean for us—what it would mean for

me. You manipulated the man I loved into leaving me.”

“But Abby,” he says, “He was—”

“I don’t care about his orientation, Karl,” I hiss. “What matters is that you decided to take it into your

own hands to bribe him into leaving behind my back. Do you have any idea how despicable that is?

Who even does something like that?”

Karl pales, his face turning a shade that stands in stark contrast to his usually warm complexion. He

steps closer, taking my hands in his. His skin is warm, and for a fleeting second, it’s like a time machine

transporting me back to a past life, a past love.

“Let go,” I hiss, pulling at my hands, but he doesn’t release them.

“Abby, I am so, so sorry for what I did,” he says, his voice quivering ever so slightly with a vulnerability

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I’ve never heard before. “I messed up, and I hurt you. If I could turn back time and undo it, I would. But

I can’t, and I have to live with that shame every day.”

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His eyes lock onto mine, and there’s a sincerity there that shakes me to my core. For a moment, I feel

myself soften, my anger fading into something a little more complex. And all at once, I hate myself for

even allowing him to change my opinions about him, even if it’s just for a moment.

But even then, I can sense that there’s something else at play here. Karl didn’t just come here to

apologize in the middle of the night.

“That’s not it, though, is it?” I force myself to ask, pulling my hands free from his. “I know you must have

another reason for coming here other than a simple apology.”

Karl pauses for a few moments, his brown eyes searching mine with an intensity that I haven’t seen in

a long time. Finally, as though realizing that he can’t keep the truth from me, his shoulders sag slightly.

“No. That isn’t the only reason why I’m here.”

“What is it, then?” I hiss, shoving him away again, this time more forcefully so that I can sidestep past

him and walk away, putting the metal counter between us. “Got another bribe to make me stick with

you again? How about blackmail this time, maybe? Or even a threat?”

Karl gazes down at me, his eyes searching mine. “None of those things,” he says quietly, sounding

hurt. “Abby, I would never—”

“Then what is it?” I interrupt. My voice is tinged with a frustration I can’t quite conceal. “Why are you

really here, Karl? What else could you possibly want from me?”

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He hesitates, a brief pause that stretches out like an eternity. “Alright,” he finally says, nodding slightly.

“Let me tell you…”

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