Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 331

Abby

The snow crunches under my boots as we make our way up the back steps of the police headquarters. Despite Karl’s solid presence at my back, I can’t help but feel a shiver run down my spine. My hands tremble ever so slightly in their gloves—whether it’s simply from cold or my jittery nerves, I can’t quite tell.

Officer Martinez meets us at the top of the stairs, her face creased with strain. “Thank you so much for coming, Abby,” she says, closing the distance between us as we approach. “We’ve cordoned off an area for you out front to address the crowd."

My stomach swoops uneasily. When we pulled in, I caught glimpses of colorful signs and chanting protesters gathered along the street. Their sheer numbers make me balk, and the idea of making some sort of impassioned speech to them seems daunting.

Karl’s gloved fingers twist supportively through mine and he gives me a gentle squeeze. I take a glance over at him, feeling my heart clench at the sight of him. I didn’t think I’d be back here so soon, especially not to address my own supporters. But I’m glad to have him by my side.

“Okay. I’m ready,” I tell Officer Martinez with a firm nod.

She leads us around the side of the building to a makeshift podium. As we approach, the clusters of shouting people turn toward us, falling quiet once they see me. I can hear the ripples of murmurs scattered throughout the crowd. They’re whispering my name.

My knees nearly buckle at the sight of so many expectant faces that are now turned my way.

So much support, all for me? The shy girl who could barely squeak two words to customers when she first opened the little restaurant of her dreams, and who is now inadvertently the face of an entire movement?

I almost consider turning back, but I can’t. Something in me stirs; I want to be strong for them. In this moment, all I can picture is the little girl in the crowd of the cook-off, beaming down at me with her chef hat too big on her head. She’s kept me going all this time.

After saying a brief introduction into the microphone, Officer Martinez gestures to me to step forward.

On slightly unsteady legs, I mount the steps up to the microphone stand. Karl lingers at the foot of the platform, his always watchful gaze scanning our surroundings like a hunter’s dagger even as he offers an encouraging smile.

He’s on edge, for good reason. We still don’t know exactly how safe it is here, and the lines of police officers on either side are a testament to that.

I clear my throat, my pulse thundering so loudly that I’m sure the entire crowd can hear it. “Th-thank you all for coming today,” I stammer out. My voice sounds unbelievably small as it bounces off the headquarters’ stone facade.

I clear my throat again and continue, a little stronger this time. “I’m grateful you all want justice for what happened. But the police need time and patience to build solid cases, especially with evidence possibly having been destroyed.”

A few dissenting shouts sound from the back. “We want justice!” someone shouts. “Justice for Abby!”

I lick my lips, rallying my nerve. “So I ask you all—please go home. Your support is just as valuable from there, where you’re safe. Let the authorities do their jobs. I promise the truth will come out.”

I expect more jeering, more demands for progress. Instead, however, a smattering of applause starts.

It builds rapidly until almost the entire crowd is clapping their approval, loud cheers and encouraging shouts rising into the chilly morning air.

Moved beyond words, I offer the crowd a trembling smile. Suddenly, Officer Martinez appears at my elbow and skillfully pulls me away from the podium amidst the ongoing applause before I can say anything else. Cameras continue to flash as Karl guides me firmly inside, his hand at the small of my back.

Just before the doors shut behind us, I take one last look over my shoulder to glimpse the crowd one last time. Their faces shine with conviction and solidarity. My vision blurs slightly as I look at them.

After facing so much cruelty and derision for what feels like forever, this sort of open support overwhelms me. Maybe there is hope that my restaurant will be okay, if this many people seem to care so much.

Maybe I’m not alone in this after all.

Karl loops a supportive arm around my waist as we follow Officer Martinez deeper into the precinct. She gestures toward a small meeting room just off the bustling central room. “Let’s talk in here, Abby,” she says. “There are some things I’d like to discuss.”

I hesitate briefly before stepping inside, not wanting to let Karl out of my sight so soon. But he brushes a fleeting kiss over my knuckles, which is comforting despite my gloves. “I’ll be waiting right here,” he says softly. “Take your time.”

Feeling a bit better thanks to his steadfast presence, I settle into one of the room’s worn leather chairs. Officer Martinez claims the seat opposite from me, leaning forward over steepled fingers.

Her expression is grave. My faint sense of optimism begins to fade.

“You did excellent work out there,” she begins briskly. “A short but meaningful speech, straight to the point, is exactly what we were hoping for. But I’m afraid that this matter is still far from settled.”

My shoulders tighten warily. “What exactly do you mean?” I ask.

Officer Martinez sighs. “While the public may be appeased for now, the reality is that we’ve made distressingly little headway on viable suspects. Which means you are still potentially in danger should the perpetrators believe that you’re coming closer to identifying them.”

I bristle at her words, ice trickling down my spine. “But I’m just the underdog,” I protest. “Surely they don’t still believe that I’m actually any kind of threat—”

“On the contrary, Abby.” Officer Martinez levels me with an intense stare. “Whoever did this—the Alpha, we presume at this point, but it’s still not definitive—went to great lengths to frame and discredit you. They likely worry you will stop at nothing to clear your name and reopen your restaurant, thus risking their exposure.”

I sit stunned, my hands wrapped so tight that I’m certain my knuckles are pure white beneath my gloves. Of course the vengeful culprit remains hovering like a specter over my hopes and dreams.

I’ve been a fool for letting myself feel safe these past days. Maybe being in my little bubble with Karl, in the midst of our newfound honeymoon phase, has made me forget.

“Which means,” Officer Martinez continues briskly, “it would be best if you remain in the city for the near future. Here you fall under our jurisdiction and protection.”

Cold dread sinks through me at the thought of leaving the shelter of Karl’s pack. It feels safer there, secluded. “Officer Martinez, I—”

“I’m not going to force you, Abby,” Officer Martinez interjects in a softer tone of voice. “But this is becoming more than I expected; this isn’t just a case about a small restaurant owner and a case of food poisoning. You’ve become a bit of a figurehead, and, as I’ve heard recently, you’ve returned to your original status as a Luna…”

I swallow and nod. “That’s true,” I murmur.

Officer Martinez takes a deep breath. “Just consider it,” she says. “I’ve grown to respect you a lot, Abby. I’d hate it if something were to happen to you and I wasn’t there to do something about it.”

I nod again. “Alright. I’ll think about it.”