Chapter Twenty-Three
Eli
***Six Months Later***
“What do you think of this one?” Abby asks, holding a black dress up to her body.
These girls are always dragging me to things like this… but honestly? I don’t mind. Even if I am horrifically unhelpful ninety percent of the time.
“That’s the one,” Riley says.
“Yeah,” Lila nods. “It looks so good on you.”
“I don’t like it,” I say, and all four of them gasp like I just insulted the holy trinity of fashion.
Under their collective judgmental glare, I shrug.
“It’s not you,” I clarify. “You don’t wear black. Ever. You literally design and create your own clothes, Abby. Why pick something that doesn’t feel like you?”
She looks down at the dress in her hands, deflated.
“I just… I don’t want to mess things up,” she says softly.
“I get that,” I nod. “I do. But do you really want to meet someone while pretending to be someone else?”
Yep.
Our Abby is going on a date.
And it’s not with Tank.
I am so damn proud of her I could fist-pump the air.
“You’re amazing just the way you are,” I say, heading straight to her closet like I know what I’m doing. I don’t know anything about fashion, but I’ve lived with this family long enough to know Abby’s favorite go-to colors and her entire brand vibe.
I dig through the hangers until I find it…a dress that practically yells: Hi, I’m Abby. I sparkle in my sleep.
“Here,” I say, handing her a dress she designed months ago and never wore. It’s… pink. Like, really pink. The good kind, not the Pepto-Bismol kind.
It has no sleeves, a… heart-shaped chest area?
I think that’s what it’s called. And the skirt does this floaty swishy thing that looks like it was made to twirl in.
There are tiny stitched flowers along the bottom…
don’t ask me how she did that…and little shiny threads that catch the light like sparkles but in a classy, non-disco-ball way.
I don’t know fashion, but this dress?
It just feels like Abby.
Cute, colorful, and fun.
Abby stares at it… then at me… then back at the dress.
“Oh, Eli,” she breathes, eyes getting shiny. “It is me.”
“Exactly,” I smile. “And if this guy doesn’t fall head over heels the second he sees you in this dress? He’s blind, and we shall mock him accordingly.”
Riley snorts. Lila raises her hand for a high-five.
Abby hugs the dress to her chest like it’s a lifeline.
“Okay, do me next,” Sunny smiles brightly.
Laughing, I shake my head and take my seat back on the bed.
“Yeah,” Abby whispers. “This one. I’ll wear this one.”
“And you’re going to look adorable,” I grin, “but, like, in a ‘don’t mess with me, I run with bikers’ kind of way.”
She laughs, cheeks pinker than the dress.
“You still coming with me?” Abby asks.
“Yep,” I nod. “Skip won’t let me get more than, like, a five-foot leash away from him, so he’ll be lurking nearby in case we need him.”
“Good,” she sighs, genuine relief softening her shoulders. “That actually makes me feel better.”
“What, you don’t think I can protect you?” I ask, widening my eyes in mock betrayal.
Her eyes go huge, horrified, and I burst out laughing.
“I’m being silly,” I tease. “You and I both know I’m only there for show. But hey…maybe my property cut will help remind this guy exactly who you belong to. You deserve a man who can handle the insane amount of testosterone in your orbit.”
I reach up and touch my cut. The one Skip insists I wear anytime I step outside the house… or inside… basically anytime I’m vertical.
It reads PROPERTY OF SKIP in big, proud letters across my back.
I love it.
I didn’t think I would, but it makes my heart warm every time I slip it on.
Abby rushes into the bathroom to change, and Sunny swoops in like a hair-styling fairy godmother.
Three hours later…yes, three entire hours…we’re finally ready for her date.
Skip is waiting by the car, arms crossed, eyes star-bright.
“You look beautiful, Abby,” he says warmly. “I’ll be far enough away not to be seen, but close enough that I’ll be on you in seconds if anything feels off.”
“Thank you,” she says, smiling softly. “But I’m keeping Eli next to me.”
“Understood,” Skip laughs.
The front door of a nearby house slams open.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tank growls as he steps out.
Abby freezes for half a breath.
Just half.
Then she turns… and I swear I feel the shift…the moment she stops breaking and starts choosing herself.
“I’m ready,” she tells us, ignoring the giant man throwing death glares at us.
“I asked you a question, Abby,” Tank snaps, marching up to the car. “Where. Are. You. Going?”
She lifts her chin. Brave. Beautiful. Heart in shreds, but strong anyway.
“I’m going on a date,” she says confidently. “Spike knows. And Eli and Skip are tagging along.”
Tank’s jaw flexes. A storm is brewing.
“You’re… what?” His voice dips, dangerous.
“A date,” she repeats, even softer this time… but steadier. “Goodbye, Tank.”
She slides into the backseat, eyes shining with unshed tears.
That wasn’t a casual see-you-later.
That was a goodbye to a dream she’s clung to for years.
“Abigail,” Tank orders, voice breaking in a way he probably doesn’t even hear. “Get out of that car.”
I slide in beside her, immediately taking her hand.
“I’m right here,” I whisper. “You’re not alone. You’re safe. And you’re going to be okay.”
“Fucking idiot,” Skip mutters as he shuts my door. I watch through the window as he faces Tank head-on. “You had your chance, Tank. You had many chances. Move the hell back so I can take our Princess out to meet her motherfucking Prince.”
Skip rounds the front of the car, and I squeeze Abby’s hand with both of mine.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her quietly. “You finally put yourself first. And I can’t wait to see your happy ending. No one alive deserves it more than you.”
Abby sniffles, trying to smile but falling apart at the edges.
She loves that giant idiot.
I think she always will.
“One day,” I say as Skip drives us out of the compound, “you’re going to find your prince. Someone who’ll hold you when you wake up from nightmares.”
“That’s what I have you and the girls for,” she laughs lightly. “I always call you guys when I have a nightmare.”
“And we’ll always come,” I smile at her, meaning every word.
“Because you’re our friend. Our family. But, Abby…
you deserve someone who sleeps at your side.
Someone whose arms are already around you when the dream hits.
Someone who’ll hold you so tight that those nightmares won’t even think about coming back. ”
She snorts. “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”
I glance at the rearview mirror…and Skip is looking back at me with so much love that it feels like a fist to the chest. Warm. Heavy. Overwhelming in the best way.
“It is,” I whisper. “I promise you… it is.”
I would know.
For weeks after that basement, nightmares chewed through my sleep like hunger. Skip never said a word about me constantly waking him up. He just pulled a chair to my side of the bed, sat awake all night, and watched over me.
Every time I started thrashing or whimpering, he’d wake me gently. Whisper my name. Bring me back. This went on for weeks.
Then one day, I told him I felt like we were drifting apart. He was clinging so hard to who I was in that basement…hurt, broken, and terrified…while all I wanted was to move forward. Be myself again. Be alive again.
Something changed in him that day.
That night, instead of sitting in a chair with a gun in his lap and worry in his eyes…he climbed into bed beside me…pulled me against his chest…wrapped his arms around me like nothing in the world could touch me.
And I haven’t had a nightmare since.
So, yeah! I know there’s someone out there who can do that for my friend. It may not be this guy she’s meeting up with. It may not be the next guy. But he’s out there. Someone who will put my girl first and make her feel completely safe for the first time in years.
He’s out there…Unfortunately, I think we just left him back at the compound.