The automatic doors slide open. November air rushes in, cold and sharp.
"If you come back to Largo Waters," I tell him quietly, "I'll arrest you. I don't care if your father plays golf with the mayor. I don't care about our history. You're not welcome here."
He jerks away from my grip. Straightens his sweater. "You're choosing her over years of friendship?"
"You made that choice when you grabbed her."
He stares at me for a long moment. Then turns and walks to his car. A black rental with out-of-state plates.
I watch him drive away. Watch until his taillights disappear around the corner.
Then I turn back into the store.
Jessica is standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, surrounded by abandoned shopping carts and staring shoppers.Her arms are wrapped around herself. Her whole body is shaking.
The crowd parts as I walk toward her.
"Hey." I reach for her slowly. Giving her time to pull away if she needs to.
She doesn't pull away.
She falls into me.
I catch her. Arms coming around her automatically. Pulling her against my chest. She's so small like this. Fragile in a way she never seems when she's arguing with my deputies or reorganizing my evidence room.
"I've got you," I murmur into her hair. "You're safe. I promise."
She doesn't cry. Just shakes. Her fingers twist in my uniform shirt, holding on like I'm the only thing keeping her upright.
Maybe I am.
Around us, people are starting to move again. Whisper. The show is over.
"Your groceries," I say after a moment. "You were shopping for something."
"Cookies." Her voice is muffled against my chest. "For the team. But I don't... I can't..."
"I'll get them." I pull back just enough to see her face. "Come on. Let's finish shopping and get you home."
I keep one arm around her as we walk through the aisles. Grab chocolate chips, butter, eggs, flour. All the things I've seen her buy before. All the ingredients for the cookies that make teenage hockey players worship her.
At the checkout, Mrs. Johnson is working the register. She doesn't say anything. Just rings up the items with steady hands and gives me a look that says she saw everything and approves.
"That boy needed someone to tell him no," she says as she bags the groceries. "Should have happened years ago."
I pay. Take the bags. Keep Jessica tucked against my side as we walk to the parking lot.
Carlos's truck is parked near the entrance. I help her into the passenger seat, load the bags in the back.
"Wait here." I pull out my phone. "I'm calling your brothers to come get you."
"My brothers?" She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
The slip registers. But I don't correct it.
"Yeah." I dial Carlos. He answers on the first ring. "Need you at the grocery store. Now. Bring Sergio."
"On our way."
