Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 403

Karl

“God, Abby, where are you?” I murmur.

I’m driving carefully along the route that Abby would have taken, my knuckles white on the steering wheel as I peer through the blinding snowstorm. Panic tightens my chest with each passing moment. She should have been back hours ago, and the storm has only worsened as the time has passed.

“She had to have taken this route,” my wolf explains. “She’s taken it countless times before.”

I sigh. “I know,” I reply out loud. It just doesn’t make sense, though; if Abby had to stay at the shopping center because of the snowstorm, then she would have called me. The only scenario I can think of where she wouldn’t have called me is if she wound up somewhere with no service or…

If she’s hurt.

My heart pounds with the thought of that option. I shake my head as if to dispel the thought; no. I won’t believe that Abby’s hurt. She probably just pulled over somewhere, and I’m bound to find her soon.

Then, as I round a bend, I finally catch sight of a car half-buried in a snow-filled ditch. My heart leaps in my chest when I realize that it’s the car I loaned Abby earlier. She has to be sitting inside, waiting.

She’s smart enough to know to do that. She knows I would always come for her, no matter what.

With a lighter feeling in my chest, I park my own car a safe distance away and trudge through the knee-deep snow towards her car.

The wind howls around me as I knock on the window. “Abby? It’s me. Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. The car is dark, and the door doesn’t open. I can’t see the interior of the car through the ice, and thinking that maybe she curled up and fell asleep while waiting for help, I open the door, my breath forming icy clouds.

But then my heart drops.

The car is empty, and my fear spikes. “Abby?” I call out, my voice swallowed by the storm.

There’s no response, and I quickly scan the interior. She’s not laying down in the back. All that’s left is a shopping bag sitting on the back seat and a discarded emergency thermal blanket. Her purse is sitting on the passenger seat, and with a frown, I pick it up and rifle through it.

“Her phone is gone,” I mutter, tossing the bag back down onto the seat. “Wallet, too. Maybe she left?”

Frowning, I straighten up and look around. And then I see it: footprints leading from her car out into the middle of the road.

My heart races as I follow the tracks, my boots sinking into the deep snow. Beside the footsteps, I see tire tracks, and it becomes apparent that someone picked her up. The realization sends a chill down my spine. Abby would never willingly get into a stranger’s car, especially in weather like this.

But, maybe she really needed help. I shouldn’t just assume the worst right off that bat.

However, I can’t deny the feeling of dread in my stomach as I climb back into my car and follow the quickly-fading tire tracks. I hope that I find her somewhere, safe and sound, but something tells me that it won’t be that simple.

After what feels like an eternity, I spot the glow of a gas station in the distance. My heart leaps with hope, and I pick up the pace, my tires skidding through the snow.

I reach the gas station, and the attendant inside looks up as I enter.