Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 120

Abby

I’m sitting in the sterile confines of the police station, the room buzzing with the noise of ringing phones and chatter. I can’t help but fidget in my seat as the detective shifts across from me, jotting notes down on a clipboard.

“So, you’re absolutely sure you can’t think of anyone who might want to harm you?” the detective, an older man with a receding hairline asks, eyeing me over a stack of papers.

“Detective, if I had enemies, I’d be the first to tell you. I swear, I really can’t think of anyone.”

He nods, scribbling something down. “Alright. But keep your eyes open. This may just be a random targeting, but it’s certainly not an accident. Call us if you think of something, or someone, who might shed some light on this situation.”

“I will, thank you,” I say, standing up to leave. The tension in my shoulders eases just a bit as I make my way out of the room. This whole experience is surreal, like some bizarre soap opera that I’ve unwittingly become the star of.

David, my landlord, is waiting for me in the hallway, his usually cheerful face tight with concern. “Abby, how did it go?”

“Fine,” I answer with a sigh. “They’re keeping an open investigation but don’t have any suspects yet.”

David rubs his temple. “I’ve arranged for maintenance to get started on repairs first thing in the morning, but if you want to get a hotel room for a few days, I can cover the lodging expenses.”

I shake my head. “No, David, that’s kind of you, but I want to go home. I want to take care of my belongings myself."

He looks puzzled. “Are you sure? The maintenance crew can—”

“I know, I know. But some of those things... they’re not just things, you know? They’re pieces of me. I want to handle them.”

He nods, understanding washing over his features. “Alright, Abby. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” I say, giving him a small but appreciative smile.

I make my way back to my apartment, my heart heavy with a strange blend of relief and dread. As I walk through the door, I survey the damage. It’s like someone took my cozy, sunlit space and dunked it into a darkened, charred reality.

My eyes immediately go to the walls—they’ll definitely need a new coat of paint. And the smell of wet wood and burnt paper fills the air.

But all in all, it’s not all that bad. It could be worse; far worse.

I decide to start with the living room, carefully lifting a pile of soaked books from the coffee table. I arrange some of the more precious ones hanging on the backs of chairs in the kitchen, hoping that with time, the air will dry them on.

Next, I move on to the photographs over the fireplace, or rather what’s left of them. It’s a bit heartbreaking, having to throw away some of the photographs of happier times, but I try to cheer myself up by telling myself that I can take more photos.

“I can do this,” I mutter to myself as I clutch a damp cloth and a bottle of cleaner. I’m about to tackle the armchair—my favorite reading spot—and see if I can get the blackness out of it when the doorbell suddenly rings.

I open the door, and my heart leaps straight into my throat. “Oh my god,” I gasp, stunned.

Standing on my front step is the entire gang from the restaurant: Chloe and Leah, John, Ethan, Anton, Daisy, and—even Karl.

“Surprise!” they cheer in unison.

“What on Earth…?” I sputter, overwhelmed.

“When we heard what happened, we had to come,” Chloe says, holding up a container of lasagna that I can smell from here.

“We’re here to rescue you from the drudgery of cleaning!” Leah adds, swinging a six-pack of wine coolers.

“But guys, I can’t ask you to—”

“You didn’t,” John interrupts, stepping in and placing a box of doughnuts on the kitchen counter. “You didn’t have to ask. We’re here because we want to be.”

“Come on, let’s get this place looking like new!” Daisy chimes in, already unrolling paper towels and filling a bucket with water.

I can feel the knot in my chest loosening, the heavy weight of the day’s events lifting ever so slightly. “You guys are amazing.”

Then, my eyes meet Karl’s. He’s carrying a loaf of what smells like very fresh bread and a wheel of cheese stolen from the pantry at the restaurant, and there’s a soft, apologetic look in his eyes. We stare at each other for a few moments, and my heart does a flip. I can feel the heat rising into my cheeks and I have to quickly look away before he notices.

Suddenly, Chloe’s voice breaks through my reverie.

“Let’s get this party started!” she says, turning up the music.

Soon, we’re all a little tipsy, swaying to the beat of a Spotify playlist that Daisy insisted was the “Ultimate Cleaning Mix.” I find myself moving my hips while scrubbing the walls, and I look over to see John and Ethan attempting the moonwalk with mops.

“We’re setting a new standard for house parties!” Ethan shouts over the music, and we all burst into laughter.

Despite everything that happened, my chest feels a little lighter. I couldn’t have asked for better friends.

I slip into the pantry to grab more trash bags, momentarily stepping out of the haze of laughter and chatter. It’s quiet in here, the stillness giving space for the reality of the situation to creep back in. Who could’ve done this to me? I shudder at the thought.

Just then, Karl steps in. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

“I’m fine,” I reply, although my voice is a bit wobbly. “Just a little shaken, you know? Wondering who could’ve set fire to my apartment.”

Karl suddenly takes my hand. My heart pounds in my chest and I slowly lift my gaze to meet his. His cheeks are flushed, probably from the booze, but his voice is low and a little husky. “Abby, we’ll find whoever did this to you. I promise.”

I chuckle. “Thanks, Karl. But the police have it under control.”

“Still,” he says quietly, drawing just a little closer. “Whatever you need, I’m here. I…”

“Karl…”

Before I know it, Karl’s lips are on mine, and for a second, the world stops. My heart does a somersault, caught off guard. In the back of my mind, I can feel it: my wolf, slowly coming out of her slumber. She’s drawing me closer to him, and for just a moment, I allow her to.

Without entirely meaning to, I find my hand lifting, my fingers tangling into Karl’s hair. The music and the chatter in the other room fades into the background, and suddenly it’s just us, just me and Karl.

When we pull apart, there’s a heavy pause, both of us staring at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what just happened.

“Abby,” he murmurs, “I—”

“Um, thanks for helping tonight,” I finally say, gently disengaging from the awkward moment.

“Abby—”

“I… I can’t, Karl,” I murmur. “Let’s not do this right now.”

Karl is silent. I slide past him, my heart pounding like crazy, and rejoin the group, hoping beyond hope that I can just forget that electric, heart-stopping kiss that I just shared with Karl.

When I step back into the room, it’s like nothing has changed, and yet everything feels different somehow. I shake off the encounter and get back into the cleaning groove, tossing charred remnants of my life into trash bags.

Karl slips out of the pantry a few minutes after me, and avoids my gaze. I catch him out of the corner of my eye making his way to the bathroom, and allow myself to relax just a tiny bit when he’s out of sight.

After a while, I remember the looming article, and Mr. Thompson’s cryptic warning resurfaces in my mind. “Hey, has anyone heard from that journalist? Did she show up tonight? I hope she was able to reschedule.”

The room falls quiet, and then everyone grins at me, like they’re sharing a secret joke.

“Just read the newspaper tomorrow,” Chloe winks.

“What? Why?” I press, my curiosity spiking.

Ethan grins. “Just trust us, Abby.”