Page 54 of DFF: Delicate Freakin’ Flower (Family Ties #5)

Gabby

T he courthouse steps felt steeper than they actually were, probably because my legs were still trembling with the weight of it all being over.

Three weeks of court. Three weeks of watching every lie unravel under oath.

Three weeks of waiting for justice. And today, finally, justice had been served.

Barris and Maddox—those smug grins they wore when they were first arrested had long since cracked.

The arrogance they carried like armor was gone, replaced by something thinner, more brittle.

Between the seized devices, the records, and the names they coughed up to save their own necks, the prosecution had built an airtight case.

Both men were handed their sentences this morning—multiple life terms with no chance of parole.

If there was a hell on earth, they’d just been locked inside it.

The others would have their time in court, too, but that wasn’t mine to carry anymore. This part—this freedom—that was mine.

I was outside the courthouse, wrapped in a sea of hugs and voices I loved. Benny squeezed me so tight I actually let out a squeak, then Malcolm tugged me into his arms and lifted me clear off the ground. Sasha was already crying, her hand in mine, her smile bright and fierce.

But I couldn’t see Webb anywhere, and it was eating at me.

He hadn’t been allowed to speak to me, not with how protected they’d kept me. He’d testified—once for the prosecution, once under cross for the defense—but even then, I’d only been allowed to watch from a shielded section of the courtroom. There'd been absolutely no contact, not even a glance.

And now, outside on the courthouse steps, I couldn’t find him in the crowd.

My stomach twisted with nerves I hadn’t been expecting. What if he wasn’t coming? What if all this time, the space and silence had made him rethink everything?

Sasha tugged on my hand. “Okay, party time. Into the SUV, let’s go!”

“Wait, what party?”

“Your party, dummy,” Benny grinned. “Now get in. I heard there's cake.”

I didn’t argue. My eyes scanned the crowd one last time as Malcolm opened the door for me, but there was still no Webb.

I climbed into Sasha’s SUV, the familiar smell of her coconut air freshener hitting me like a hug. As we pulled away from the curb, the quiet hum of traffic behind us, they all started talking at once.

“You really do look amazing,” Sasha told me, twisting in her seat to smile at me. “I can’t believe it’s only been five months.”

“Five months and a glow-up,” Benny chimed in. “The sun, that new hippie hairstyle, that whole beach-boho vibe you’ve got going on—classy little flower child.” He punctuated it with a pat on the head.

Sasha snorted. “There’s nothing hippie about Gabby. She’s just beautiful.”

“She’s definitely a hippie,” Benny argued, mock-offended. “I bet she owns one of those singing bowls now and meditates naked under moonlight.”

“Not unless chlorine counts as moonlight,” I muttered with a laugh, staring out the window as the courthouse disappeared behind us. “I took up swimming.”

“Seriously?” Malcolm asked.

“Yeah, it helped get the strength back in my leg and arm and passed the time. I dropped a size too.”

“Well, damn,” Benny sang, eyes wide. “That explains why Webb didn’t recognize you the first time he saw you. Guy looked right past you like you were a stranger.”

That moment had been a gut punch. I’d walked into the courtroom behind the agent, and Webb had been seated just inside the barrier.

He didn’t see me at first, just glanced, then looked away.

But then his gaze snapped back and raked over me—slow, intense, and unmistakably Webb.

The heat in his eyes had told me everything: he still saw me. He still felt it.

But there’d been no chance to talk. Every day I showed up, I was ushered in and out like I was glass about to shatter, and he hadn't looked at me since. After every hearing, I was taken straight back to a secure apartment with no visitors, no contact, no personal phone, and absolutely zero life.

I missed my real life and my real phone.

I still had no idea how Ira had gotten the number to my temporary one, but I wasn’t complaining.

His daily calls had become the highlight of my day.

They started short and awkward, but now they were long, full of laughter, his voice grounding me through the chaos.

He'd told me everything Webb was up to because, of course, he knew. That’s how I knew Webb had turned into a Home Depot regular. That he’d spent twenty minutes in the flowering plant aisle last month debating color palettes. Ira was convinced he was losing his mind.

“He’s going to become a florist, Gabby,” Ira had relayed dramatically. “He went off on some tangent about pollinators and mulch ratios. Mulch. I had to check he didn’t have a fever.”

I turned my head back to the window, resting my temple against the glass. Sasha and Benny were still bickering about whether I’d started wearing crystals or if I was suddenly vegan. I smiled, listening without really listening.

The conversation had drifted into Benny telling Sasha she was delusional if she thought my new beach wardrobe wasn’t at least a little bit hippy. Still, I cut in before they could really get going again.

“Have any of you seen much of Webb?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even though my heart had leaped into my throat the second I said his name.

Benny huffed so hard it sounded like the start of a rant. “Seen him? No. But I've definitely heard him. He called me about flowers, Gabby. Actual flowers.”

I was intrigued. “What kind of flowers?”

“Like specific ones with names I’ve never even heard of. He was talking about bloom cycles and soil depth like he was prepping for some floral SATs. I swear, he’s either planning a total career change, or he's missed you so much he lost his damn mind.”

That tugged a smile out of me that I didn’t entirely feel.

“Oh, it gets better,” Sasha added, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “He’s basically a professional decorator now. Apparently, he sprayed the paint on the walls instead of rolling it.”

Malcolm perked up in the passenger seat and nodded like they were talking about some miracle invention. “That machine is awesome. I’m borrowing it next week.”

All of us stared at him. Malcolm? Decorating? On purpose?

He caught our looks and snapped, “Don’t give me that face. If you saw what that thing could do, you’d be painting every wall in the tri-county area. It just sprays and covers. No drips, no roller lines, no trays. Just— poof —paint. Whole damn wall in ten minutes.”

Sasha had stopped at a red light and slowly turned her head to look at him. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

The light turned green, and as she hit the gas, she hummed. “Maybe Jackson and I need to redecorate.”

They launched into a full discussion about color palettes and feature walls as if they were HGTV’s new power couple. I sat there smiling faintly, nodding when they looked back at me, but my thoughts were drifting somewhere else entirely.

They were talking about flowers, machines, and paint...and I still didn’t know anything. Where was Webb? Did he even want to see me?

I stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, letting the rhythm of their chatter wash over me while I watched the houses pass by out the window.

The neighborhoods blurred together—bright doors, flower boxes, dogs on porches.

All so normal. After months of being hidden, locked away in apartments under names that weren’t mine, that kind of normality felt like something both fragile and impossible.

I just hoped I’d walk into that party and see the only thing that’d kept me steady through it all. And maybe have some damn cake too.

Sasha had barely put the SUV in park when the front door flew open, and someone shouted my name.The moment I stepped out, the crowd erupted—laughter, hugs, claps on the back. It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Warm and familiar, like stepping into sunlight after a long, cold winter.

People I hadn’t seen in months circled around, congratulating me, telling me how brave I was and how relieved they were that I was okay.

Someone shoved a red cup into my hand, and another person tossed a lei of fake flowers around my neck while shouting, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Gabby!”

I laughed, a real belly-deep laugh that felt like it cleared cobwebs from my lungs.

Every part of this felt surreal. After being hidden away for months, being locked behind closed doors, and escorted down anonymous hallways, this party—with its music and open windows and a backyard full of happy chaos—was a riot of life.

“ Gabriella! ” That bellow could only belong to one person.

I turned just in time to be tackled into a hug that smelled of aftershave and gunpowder. Ira, of course, was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Right behind him was Gladys, wearing a lemon-yellow sundress and heels that made her at least two inches taller than him.

“Don’t suffocate her, Ira,” she huffed, prying him off me and pulling me into her own warm embrace. “Let the girl breathe.”

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Ira told me as he rubbed my back. “We’re getting married!”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Yep,” he confirmed proudly, slinging an arm around Gladys. “We're tying the knot, baby. She's finally making an honest man out of me.”

“And,” Gladys added with a dramatic lift of her eyebrows, “we’re moving into that ridiculous house where he makes all his stupid ammunition.”

“It’s not that stupid,” Ira muttered under his breath.

She shot him a glare. “There will be no more ammunition making and no more shenanigans of that type. Ira's going to be a well-behaved, sensible, law-abiding husband. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”