Chapter One
Abby
***Three Months Later***
The bell rings as someone walks into my shop. I smile as I hear Lila greet the customer.
My dreams are finally coming true.
Bubby bought me this building as a gift after I graduated from college. Back then, I had plans…big ones. But after I was kidnapped, every thought of my business got shoved onto the back burner.
After everything that happened, I was too scared to leave Sammy’s house. When his job forced him to travel, I didn’t really have a choice. I moved to the compound with Bubby.
I was terrified of the trip here.
But dang, am I glad I did it.
Sure, Palm Springs is a heck of a lot closer to Los Fantasmas. And for a long time, I didn’t leave my house…let alone the compound walls.
But over the past two years, things have changed.
I’ve made friends.
I’ve gained confidence…sort of.
And the fear has taken a back seat…sort of.
And yes… absolutely yes… It’s still there. I feel it all the time. I never leave the compound on my own, and even when I’m surrounded by Shadows, there’s always that feeling that I’m being watched.
And not the good kind of watched.
Still, I did it.
I wake up every morning, I leave the compound with Lila and three Shadows, and I open my boutique.
That alone feels like a victory.
I’ve gone on dates. Five of them over the past three months. None ever made it past the first date… but I still went. And that matters.
And I’ve had fun.
The girls and I have gone out dancing at the club. Of course, Bubby and his officers were there…and Eli too. He didn’t dance, though, because he didn’t want to risk his heart rate spiking and then crashing. So instead, the girls and I danced around him, dragging him into the moment anyway.
Even Skip sat back in his chair and laughed at that.
Oh, Riley, Sunny, Lila, Eli, and I drove all the way to LA just to go shopping. Bubby and Skip came with us, but we mostly ignored them. I needed fabric and jewels, so we turned it into a day trip and made the most of it.
Life feels lighter now.
Since Los Fantasmas’ leader, Cortez, was taken down, something has shifted. I don’t know exactly what Bubby is doing behind the scenes, but every week, another faction of that horrible cartel disappears. There’s almost nothing left of them.
And for the first time in a long time…
I feel free.
Still… sometimes, I miss Tank.
I miss the way he used to look at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I miss the sound of his voice saying my name…even when it ended in rejection. At least then, he talked to me. At least then, I got more than a grunt and a single word in passing.
That thought lingers for half a second too long.
Then I push it away.
Because missing him doesn’t mean going back.
And loving him doesn’t mean choosing him.
I’ve already chosen myself.
And yes, I’ve compared every date to Tank. I probably always will. Maybe I’ll be single for a long time because I haven’t found that same sense of safety and comfort with anyone else the way I did with him.
Maybe I never will…and that’s something I’ll have to learn to accept.
Somewhere out there is a man who will love me with his whole being, and I’ll love him back. It may not feel the same. It may not feel like the kind of safety I once knew. But it will still be real.
And maybe happiness isn’t always about feeling safe.
Maybe sometimes it’s about choosing joy anyway.
And I think that’s an okay thing to risk for a chance at being happy.
“Boss lady,” Lila calls as she steps into my workshop. “I have a customer out here who’d like to speak with the designer.”
Heat rushes up my neck and across my face, and Lila laughs.
I have pale skin. You’d think I’d never even met the sun before. My hair is unnaturally blonde, too. Before Mama died from cancer when I was five, she was convinced I was albino.
I’m not.
I’m just extremely pale.
So when I blush, it’s impossible to miss.
I follow Lila into the main area and smile at the pretty woman waiting near the counter.
“Hi,” I greet. “I’m Abby. Can I help you?”
“Abby…as in the Abigail from Abigail’s Wildflower Designs?”
Laughing, I nod. “That’s me.”
I still love the name I chose. At first, I was going to call the shop Abby’s Boutique. Simple. Safe. But the longer I sat with it, the more it felt wrong.
I love wildflowers and what they symbolize.
They don’t need perfect conditions to grow.
They’re resilient. They survive in places nothing else does.
They bloom after storms, in cracked ground, on the side of the road…
where no one planned for them to be. They’re beautiful not because they’re protected… but because they aren’t.
I feel like a wildflower.
I mean, I’m protected…probably too much. But I’ve lived in less-than-perfect conditions for the past five years. Situations that could break even the hardest man.
And yet… here I stand.
I was broken down by Los Fantasmas…By Tank.
And still… here I am.
Standing. Growing. Blooming.
I’m a freaking wildflower…and I’m proud of it.
“What can I help you with?” I ask the woman and send a smile to the little girl at her side.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to design matching dresses for my daughter and me?”
What kind of silly question is that?
“I would love to,” I say, smiling.
“You don’t even know what I want yet,” she laughs.
“Doesn’t matter,” I reply. “Designing and creating a mommy-and-me outfit is on my bucket list. What kind of timeframe are we looking at?”
“Five months?” she asks, frowning slightly. “Is that enough time?”
I pull out my phone and check my planner. I have a few new cuts to get ready for some prospect’s Bubby plans to patch in next month. Then there are several online orders that are mostly finished…and one massive wedding dress I haven’t even started.
“It really depends on what you’re looking for,” I admit, glancing back up at her. “I have a wedding dress to finish before Thanksgiving, and that alone will take me several months to complete.”
It’s December. Almost Christmas…next week, actually. I planned on starting the dress right after.
It will take me seven months to complete on my own. With the number of Swarovski crystals she wants attached, I’m estimating about five months to construct the dress while still keeping up with my other orders… and another two months just to hand-place the thousands of crystals.
It’s a massive undertaking.
But I’m not complaining.
Because this project is going to earn me thousands of dollars.
And more than that…it’s going to put Abigail’s Wildflower Designs on the map.
The woman takes a breath, like she’s steadying herself.
“I actually found you online,” she says softly. “I was looking at your designs…your dresses, the details, the stitching…and I don’t know how to explain it, but I could feel the love behind them.”
My throat tightens.
“It didn’t feel mass-produced,” she continues. “It felt… intentional. Like every piece was made with care. With kindness.”
She gestures vaguely between us. “So I drove three hours to come here.”
Three hours? To see me?
Wow!
“I want something very simple,” she says.
“Nothing extravagant. I don’t need dramatic trains or thousands of layers or anything like that.
I just want to know that the dresses my daughter and I wear when we start our new life were made with love.
That someone cared when they made them. That kindness was stitched into every seam. ”
Her voice wobbles, but she keeps going.
“We’ve had enough of surviving. This day… this is about choosing something better.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“I can do that,” I say quietly. “I would love to do that.”
The woman’s eyes fill, and her daughter’s fingers curl into her sleeve like she’s holding onto something solid.
“Thank you,” the woman whispers. “I know it’s not a lot of time. Will you be able to get them done in time?”
Even if I have to spend my nights in my workshop, I’ll get these precious dresses finished.
“It’s doable,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile. “Come with me and let’s talk fabric and designs. I’ll need to measure you and your daughter.”
Because these dresses aren’t just fabric.
They’re a fresh start.
And I know all about needing a fresh start.