Chasing His Kickass Luna Back
Chapter 175

Abby

A sudden jolt of fear seizes me as I lock eyes with the man at the far end of the alley.

“You there!” he repeats, taking another step closer. “What are you—”

“Um… Karl? John?” I call out, mainly out of instinct. If there’s one thing that living in the city over the past

few years has taught me, it’s not to trust strange men, especially not in the middle of the night.

“Wait, I—”

The back door slams open before the man can finish, spilling yellow light from the kitchen out into the

alley. John and Karl burst outside, alarmed by the commotion.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” John asks, his eyes widening as he spots the stranger.

Enter title…

Karl, not waiting for an answer, storms toward the man, his face twisted in anger. “Hey, what do you think

you’re doing here, bothering a woman in the middle of the night?” he growls, grabbing the man by his

tattered jacket and pulling him away from me.

The man doesn’t resist, but he does point a trembling finger at the bowl in my hands. “I just wanted to

know if you were gonna throw all that away, that’s all!”

I glance down at the bowl in my hands, feeling my stomach sink just a little bit. He’s just hungry, and saw

someone throwing away what looks like perfectly good food. My heart’s still pounding from the sudden

scare, but something inside me shifts.

I lift my gaze and look at Karl, who is still clutching the man’s tattered jacket and driving him away.

“Karl, wait!”

Karl hesitates, looking at me questioningly. There’s an incredulous look in his eyes, and for good reason.

But I choose to ignore it and instead turn to the homeless man, holding the bowl out slightly.

“Was this what you wanted?” I ask.

The man nods. “Yes, please,” he says, sounding more than a little desperate. “That’s all. I’m really sorry; I

didn’t mean to frighten you, miss.”

With a sigh, I exchange glances with John and Karl. John’s face is unreadable, but Karl’s is a mask of

anger and worry.

“But it’s a failed dish,” I say, glancing down at the bowl again. “Trust me, it tasted really bad. You probably

won’t want to eat it.” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I don’t care, miss,” he says, his voice hoarse from thirst, and it’s then that I notice that he’s got a heavy

French accent, which is rare around here. “I have eaten far worse. I’m just hungry.”

Our eyes lock, and I see something there—an unspoken understanding, a shared human moment. It stirs

something in me, a mix of empathy and shame. I look at Karl and John, who both seem uncertain, their

faces unreadable. Karl’s face has shifted to the slightly more understanding side, but I can sense that he’s

still a little angry.

“You can have it,” I finally say, offering him the bowl. “Please, take it.”

“Thank you, really,” he murmurs. “I am sorry for scaring you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, casting him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry for freaking out.

We turn to go back inside, but as I’m crossing the threshold, I feel the first few drops of rain hit my skin. It

starts as a light drizzle, barely audible against the rooftop, but enough to make me stop and turn back.

The man’s still there, huddled in the dark, eating beneath the increasingly heavy rain. Reаd at

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“Come on, Abby, let’s go,” Karl says, a note of irritation in his voice. “He’s fine; you’ve done enough for

tonight.”

“No,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “He should come inside to eat. It’s just not right, having

him out there in the rain.”

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