Chapter 27 #2
Inside, the house is warm, cluttered with pictures and knick-knacks that give it a cozy, lived-in feel. Lisa leads us to the small living room, where we settle on a couch that’s a bit worn but looks inviting. She sits in an armchair opposite us, tissues in hand.
She inhales, composing herself. “I’ve left Charles,” she announces, though we already know. “After I found out everything, I… I couldn’t stay with a man who’d harm my daughter. I’m pressing charges. He’s in custody now, and I’ll be cooperating fully with the police.”
Aubree nods, still clinging to her mother’s hand. “Mom, I’m so sorry you had to go through this.”
Lisa shakes her head fiercely. “Don’t apologize. This is on him. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
I watch them exchange a look that’s thick with emotion—relief, grief, and a deep bond that not even Charles’s betrayal could break. My chest tightens at the sight, a mix of protectiveness and a strange sense of pride that Aubree is returning to the life she deserves.
They talk for a while—Lisa explains how the police grilled her about Charles’s finances, how they gathered proof of his intent to drive Aubree away for monetary gain.
She’s furious at him, and she’s furious at herself for not seeing the signs sooner.
Aubree keeps insisting her mother’s not at fault, and I silently agree.
Con men can be terrifyingly good at deception.
Eventually, Lisa pats Aubree’s hand. “I hate to say this, but… I know you’re dying to see your shop, right?”
Aubree’s eyes sparkle with tears, and a small smile forms. “More than anything,” she admits.
Lisa smiles back, rising from the armchair. “Then let’s go.”
Slice Slice Baby looks strangely untouched from the outside—same red-and-gray sign, same big display window that’s finally been fixed.
But as we step inside, I notice the faint lines of a new frame around the front door, where it must’ve been repaired after the recent break-in.
My stomach clenches, imagining the damage that might be hidden behind the scenes.
Aubree takes a trembling step forward, running her hand along the counter where countless customers have ordered slices. “Oh my God,” she whispers, eyes watering again. “It’s… still standing.”
I follow, hovering protectively at her side, scanning the interior.
The floor is swept clean. I see a few spots on the walls where paint has been touched up, presumably covering whatever damage occurred.
There’s a faint smell of cleaning supplies mingling with the lingering scent of tomato sauce and dough.
Lisa steps up to us, pointing toward the back.
“The police had it cleaned up, dusted for fingerprints. Nothing major was stolen. No big vandalism.” She searches Aubree’s face.
“They’re still looking for the guy who broke in, but it doesn’t look like it’s connected to Charles.
Might’ve been a random burglary after all. ”
Aubree nods, tears filling her eyes again. “I can’t believe it. I thought everything would be ruined.”
“But it’s not,” I remind her softly. “You still have your place.”
She turns to me, eyes shining with gratitude and relief. Then she throws her arms around my neck, hugging me fiercely. I freeze for a split second, not used to public displays like this, but then I wrap my arms around her, letting her trembling sigh wash over me.
Lisa clears her throat gently. “I’ll… I’ll give you two a moment,” she says, slipping behind the counter, presumably to check on something.
Aubree pulls back and stares up at me, her hands still resting on my shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”
I brush a loose strand of hair from her face. “I told you, it’s my job,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion. “But… it was more than that. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She smiles, leaning her forehead against mine. “So now what?” she whispers. “You go back to Maddox Security, pick up another job? And I just… run my shop?” There’s a hint of fear in her eyes, like she’s worried this is where we part ways.
My breath catches. I haven’t entirely sorted out the answer for that question yet. Dean hasn’t assigned me a new job. Technically, I’m free to do whatever I want, so long as the danger to Aubree is resolved. And it is, isn’t it?
“We’ll figure it out,” I say quietly, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple.
We stand here a moment longer, in the center of her shop, holding each other.
The smell of fresh dough and tomato sauce seems to wrap around us like a promise of normalcy returning.
Just a few days ago, we were hiding in a remote cabin, wondering if Charles would succeed in scaring her off for good.
Now, with him behind bars and the shop still standing, the future feels open again.
Aubree clears her throat and lets go of me, though her hand slips down to entwine with mine. “So,” she says, voice still slightly shaky, “let’s start by making some pizza. I owe you a proper Slice Slice Baby pie, right?”
I chuckle, feeling a knot of tension unwind in my gut. “Damn right you do.”
She grins, leading me behind the counter, where her mother waits with a relieved smile.
As we pass the row of ingredient bins, Aubree stares at them like she’s greeting old friends—pepperoni, olives, mushrooms. The dough mixer in the corner is silent for now, but I can already picture it whirring back to life under her skilled hands.
For the first time in weeks, I see her face light up with genuine excitement.
“Pizza?” she asks, meeting my gaze.
“Pizza,” I confirm.
Her mother lets out a small laugh, rolling up her sleeves. “Then let’s make the best damn pie this town has ever seen.”
It’s a fresh start—one she’s more than earned. And as I watch Aubree grab a ball of dough, a bright new confidence in her eyes, I know that whatever happens next, we’ll figure it out. Together. Because this time, there’s nothing left to run from.