Abigail is miserable most days— any gang member with eyes can see that, if they’re sober at least.

Ever since John disappeared without a trace, she’d been busy worrying over her baby boy, Jack.

But, in a precious, rare moment of peace, you’d managed to convince her take a moment to sit down and take care of herself— or at least, let you take care of her.

Which is how she ended up in your arms, head resting on your lap as you both lay on the cot in her tent.