Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 57

The city’s nocturnal pulse is like a second heartbeat, a comforting undercurrent as I make my way toward the subway.

Tonight was something else. A blend of euphoria, sprinkled with an indescribable tension—thanks to Karl’s abrupt departure.

I’m not sure why he left, or really even when he left. All I know is that one moment he was there, and the next he was gone. And he didn’t come back.

Did someone say something? Did something happen? Was it the picture fiasco?

My mind wanders back to Chloe and the palpable tension between the two of them. I know that Chloe dislikes him, and for good reason, but I think he’s been trying to change. I just wish that she could see that.

“God, what am I thinking?” I whisper to myself, shaking my head. Standing up for Karl? For the man who divorced me, who forced me to dress modestly, who convinced me to dye my hair for his own pleasure? I should be siding with Chloe, not him.

And yet, I still can’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret as I think about the empty space where he once stood tonight, calmly sipping his drink.

I board the train, reveling in the almost-empty car. After the whirlwind of the night, I really needed some quiet time like this. For some reason, the quiet subway at night always feels soothing to me, when it would make most people uncomfortable.

I sit by the window, staring into the dark tunnel as the train lurches forward.

That’s when he sits next to me. A man in a crisp business suit, reeking of arrogance, and, as I soon realize, alcohol.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he begins, his voice oozing an unsettling mixture of charm and condescension.

Ignoring him, I focus on the passing darkness outside the window. It’s late, and the last thing I want is an unwanted interaction. Maybe, if I just pretend that he’s not here, he’ll get the hint and move on. It’s worked before. Usually.

“So, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone at this hour?” he continues, undeterred by my lack of response.

I sigh. I should move. Gathering my things, I make my way to a seat on the opposite side of the train car. But he follows, plopping down beside me, closer this time. His scent—a cocktail of aftershave and booze—assaults my senses.

“Why’d you move, sweetheart? I’m just trying to make friendly conversation.”

“Listen, I’m not interested,” I say, voice firm, hoping to shut down any further discussion. “Find someone else to bother.”

“Oh, come on. You haven’t even gotten to know me yet. I’m an Alpha, you see. And I’ve got lots of money. I could show you a night you’ll never forget.”

My skin crawls at his insinuation. The word ‘Alpha’ seems to ooze from his lips as if it were a crown rather than a glaring red flag.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass,” I reply politely, desperate for this ride to end.

“You sure about that, sweetie?” His eyes narrow, and he lays a hand on my thigh, as if he owns it. “You don’t know what you're missing.”

My stomach lurches at his touch. I shove his hand away, my patience shattering. “I said I’m not interested.”

His face contorts, the veneer of faux charm vanishing, replaced by raw, seething anger. “You think you’re too good for me or something, little bitch?”

“Just back off,” I growl.

The man smirks. “So you do think you’re too good for an Alpha like me. I should teach you some manners.”

I pull up G****e Maps, the blue dot of my location blinking like a beacon in a sea of unfamiliar street names. Spotting a main road a few blocks away, I make my decision.

“Okay. I’ll walk to the main road,” I murmur, pocketing my phone and taking a cautious step forward. “There have to be cabs there. Or people. Anything is better than this.”

As I navigate the labyrinthine streets, each turn seems to echo the last, a twisted maze designed to disorient. The click-clack of my heels on the pavement is the only sound, a metronome that ticks away the minutes and the distance. But as I walk, my senses heighten, fine-tuned to any anomaly in the surrounding stillness.

That’s when I hear it. A low whistle, followed by hushed voices that carry a tone no woman wants to hear when she's alone. My eyes dart toward the source, finding a group of men leaning against a building. As I pass, their catcalls fill the air, laced with an underlying threat that makes my skin crawl.

“Hey, baby,” one man coos, clicking his tongue. “Where are you headed? Wanna come to my place?”

Another man chimes in. “You lost, sweetheart? Need a ride?”

Their laughter sends a chill down my spine. I quicken my pace, but they detach from their leaning posts and start following me, their footsteps a haunting echo of my own.

“Come on, don’t be shy!”

I could ignore them, keep walking and pray they lose interest. But hope and prayer are currency that hold no value on a street like this. My fingers tremble as they slide my phone from my pocket. I unlock it, my thumb hovering over the dial pad.

There's a list of people I could call. Friends, family, 911.

But my thumb defies logic and navigates toward a name I didn't think I would ever consider as a refuge tonight.