Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 220

Abby

It’s been two days since I submitted my statement about the footage to the police, and nothing has happened. The health department is taking their sweet time testing my food samples, and there’s nothing more that I can do other than wait.

Sleep has become a rare luxury, and my appetite has all but disappeared. Not to mention the fact that the constant barrage of news coverage and social media frenzy over the “worst Alpha gathering in history” only adds to the turmoil swirling in my mind.

I can’t bring myself to watch the news or scroll through the endless comments and posts dissecting every aspect of the scandal. Every time I do, it makes me feel sick.

One evening, as I’m sitting on my couch wondering what to do, I make a decision. I need a break from the suffocating isolation of my apartment and the judgmental eyes of the world.

The thought of a dive bar down the street that I visit somewhat regularly crosses my mind—a place where I’m sure nobody will bother me, if they can even make out my face beneath the dimmed lights.

I put on a simple outfit, determined to keep a low profile, and head out.

As I step into the bar, I’m relieved to see that it’s almost empty. There are a few other patrons crowded around a small TV, watching some sports game or another, and a couple of college kids playing darts off to the side. No one even looks my way when I walk in.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a salt-and-pepper beard, acknowledges my presence with a nod. He starts to mix my drink without asking for my order, because I come here often enough that he knows what I like. We’ve never talked, though.

As he works, he glances at me and asks the question I’ve been dreading to hear.

“You’re Abby, right?”

I hesitate for a moment, my heart sinking. But there's no point in hiding my identity, especially in a place like this. I nod reluctantly and reply, “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

The bartender doesn't offer a judgmental look or a harsh comment. Instead, he simply shrugs and continues to prepare my drink. “I’m sorry all of this is happening to you,” he says in a sincere tone.

My eyes widen. “Pardon?” I blurt out, genuinely surprised.

He nods. “It’s unfair, you know. Sometimes, the voices of the few can be so loud that they drown out the voices of the many. It’s just a fact of life.”

His words catch me off guard, and I’m grateful for his empathy. It’s a rare thing to find in a world that seems so quick to condemn. I watch as he places the drink in front of me, and I offer him a faint smile of appreciation.

“Wow. Thanks,” I say, taking the glass. It’s cool against my fingers. “I, uh… I haven’t heard anything so nice in a little while.”

He chuckles. “I kinda figured. You look a little worse for wear.”

“Yeah. It’s been a tough few days,” I admit, my voice thick with exhaustion. “I thought everything was going so well at the Alpha party. I just don’t understand why everyone got sick.”

The bartender leans on his elbows, his eyes filled with understanding. “Sometimes, life can throw us curveballs that we can’t predict. You’d be willing to admit if it was your fault, wouldn’t you?”

I nod, my gaze fixed on the amber liquid in my glass. “Of course I would. I take my responsibility as a chef seriously. But deep down, I don’t believe it was my fault.”

He nods thoughtfully, as if weighing my words. “Well, keep your head up, Abby,” he says, his tone reassuring. “You’ve got people who are rooting for ya.”

“Thanks,” I say, raising my glass. “I’ll try to remember that.”

…

Three drinks later, and I’m walking home in the chilly night air. My hands are in my pockets, but there’s a sense of warmth blanketing my body thanks to the alcohol.

I feel a bit more relaxed now after that stranger’s kind words; even though I don’t even know his name, he managed to uplift me. And that means a lot.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slip it out and quirk an eyebrow when I see it’s a call from Karl. I haven’t heard from him since he left, and in my drunken state of mind, the thought of hearing his voice makes me smile.

“Hey,” I answer, my speech a little slurred. “Miss me?”

It’s late, and I half expect him to be making a midnight booty call, but the voice that comes through the phone tells a different story.

“Abby,” he says, sounding exasperated, “We need to talk. Now.”

My heart skips a beat. I stop in my tracks, confused. “Is everything okay?”

He lets out a sigh, and I can just picture him running a hand through his hair. “I just got word from the police. They want to question Gianna. Because of you.”

I feel a lump forming in my throat. I guess I should have suspected this, but it still took me by surprise. “Already, huh?” I ask, starting to walk again.

“So you did turn her in?” he asks.

“Well, ‘turn her in’ is a bit of an overstatement,” I point out as I fumble in my pocket for my keys. “But, Karl, I found out that my CCTV footage on the night of the Alpha party was tampered with, so I took it to the police. When they asked if I had any enemies, I could only think of two names.”

He sighs again. “Let me guess: Gianna and Daniel.”

“Yup,” I say with a nod. I approach my apartment and jog up the steps. In my drunkenness, I drop my keys and giggle a bit at my clumsiness, then stoop to pick them up. Getting a bit dizzy, I wind up sitting on the step, taking a deep breath.

Karl, somehow drawing this conclusion without even seeing me, says, “Abby, are you drunk?”

I can’t help but giggle a little again. “I may have had one or two or three drinks.”

“Abby…” I can tell he’s exasperated, but he also chuckles on the other end. “You’re a mess.”

“I’m trying not to be, I promise,” I say, running my hand through my hair as my tone grows serious. “It’s just…”

“I know it’s hard,” he says softly. “And I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I get why you’d suspect Gianna. Hell, I’d suspect her, too. But you should’ve reached out to me first. Gianna is my brother’s election manager, and this is going to cause a lot of issues.”

I’m taken aback. “Election? What election?”

He pauses for a moment. “Shit,” he says, “I’ve been so busy I forgot to mention it to you: Ethan and I are holding an election to decide who gets to be Alpha. It’s been crazy these past few days.”

My head is spinning with the revelation. Two major crises seem to be unfolding simultaneously for us. While I’m fighting to salvage my restaurant’s reputation and clear my name, Karl is ensconced in a political campaign with his own brother.

“Wow,” I breathe, still in shock. “That’s… Do you need help, Karl? I could—”

“Just stay there,” Karl says, and it’s now that I can really hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Focus on yourself. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a silence as I try to wrap my head around what he’s just told me. Off in the distance, I can hear the sound of sirens. The sound of it oddly mirrors how I feel on the inside.

“When will I see you next?”

The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. My cheeks instantly flush red, but it doesn’t matter.

He pauses for a long time. And then, with a sigh, the words he says next make my heart sink.

“I don’t know, Abby. Maybe not for a long time.”