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His body reactedbefore his mind did, spinning on his heels to face the new threat. His fingertensed on the trigger reflexively, heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.There she was, standing a mere ten feet away—a young brunette he'd never seen before.His grip on the pistol faltered ever so slightly as he took her measure. Thiswasn't just some passerby; she had the look of someone who'd stared down thebarrel of a gun before and not flinched.
Who was she, and whywas she here?
'I know all about yourmother,' she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Rain slashed acrossElla's face, the relentless downpour melding with the sweat and grime that hadset into her skin over the exhaustive chase. Her arm outstretched, she aimedher Glock at the young man who stood defiant yet faltering before her.
Her unsub finallystood exposed under the harsh glare of reality, not just a shadow in her casefiles but flesh and blood. He cut a figure whose youth did little to concealthe ravages of a life burdened by untold horrors. His black hair, matted andunkempt, clung to his forehead, and his clothes—oversized and soaked—stuck tohis sturdy profile in the onslaught of the rain.
‘Put the gun down,’Ella said. No one needs to get hurt.’
His eyes met hers, andin them, Ella saw an ocean of conflict. Fear mingled with relief on hisweather-beaten face, suggesting a soul grateful for being seen—not as a shadowor a nightmare—but as flesh and blood.
He tightened his gripon his pistol, and though she could sense his hesitation, the potential forviolence pulsed between them like a living thing.
He shook his head.'Who are you?'
Ella took a breath,her heart thudding in her chest, and made a decision. Her training screamed ather, every protocol and procedure etched into her memory, but so did herhumanity. Not to mention that none of the three souls present - not her, Gailor the unsub - could outrun a bullet.
With deliberateslowness, she lowered her weapon and slid it back into its holster. Her handremained close, ready, but her stance softened.
‘It's fine,’ she said.‘I'm not going to hurt you.’
She stood there,exposed and vulnerable in the face of the unknown, a gamble of the highestorder.
The unsub's responsewas a microcosm of his fractured life, a visible shudder, a clenching of teeth,an indecipherable murmur lost to the wind. His stance softened infinitesimally,the rigid line of his shoulders yielding ever so slightly.
'What are you doinghere?' the man cried. Meanwhile, Gail Banks looked on in fright, subtlycrawling across the rocks on her knees, away from the gun barrel thatthreatened to end her life. His foot scuffed the wet ground, sending pebblesskittering off the edge into the churning waters below—the same waters thatserved as an unmarked grave for his darkest deed.
‘Listen to me,’ Ellacalled, weaving through the roar of rain and waves. ‘This is where it happened,isn't it? Where you killed your mother. You strangled her and let the watertake her away. And all that came back was her clothes, washed up right here onthe shore.'
She watched themuscles in his jaw twitch, his grip on the gun slacken then tighten again. Hewas desperately seeking solace in this place of death, trying to sew togetherthe tattered edges of his psyche with the same thread that had unraveled it.
But he said nothing.
‘By recreating thatscene, you think you'll heal. That you'll prove you did the right thing. Butthis...this is just another wound.’
The killer'sexpression flickered. Ella could feel the precarious balance tipping, thefragile bridge between them swaying in the tempest's breath. She needed toanchor him to the present, to pull him back from the precipice of madness thatbeckoned so seductively.
'You're trapped in acycle, trying to prove to yourself that you did the right thing. But deep down,you know... That's not how healing works. We can end this cycle. It doesn'thave to be this way.’
Her plea hungsuspended in the air, mingling with the mist and the salt spray, waiting to seeif it would be the lifeline he grasped or the siren's call that dragged himdeeper into the abyss.
‘No!’ The word eruptedfrom the killer like a shard of glass. He began to twitch, his voice tremblingas much as the weapon in his grasp. ‘These urges... I want them to go away.'
Ella stepped closer,the ground beneath her slick with the vengeance of the storm. Gail, shiveringand soaked through, huddled behind her, a living ghost that had no place inthis confrontation.
‘Gail isn't yourmother. She can't fill the void left behind. No one can.’ Her arm swept outtowards the churning lake, its waters a gaping maw ready to swallow allsecrets. ‘Your mother is out there, lost to the depths, and she's not comingback. It doesn't matter how many women you find that look like her, you'redoomed to repeat the cycle.’
She watched him, everymuscle tensed for any outcome. This was the crux, the moment of truth on whichfates would turn. She offered understanding, a lifeline amidst the wreckage ofhis life. But the choice, as it always had been, was his.
Suddenly, he pivotedtowards Gail, his finger curling around the trigger. Time slowed, every drop ofrain suspended, every breath a thunderclap.
Ella's instinctsscreamed as she saw the shift in his body, the lethal intent in his eyes. Theman was trapped in a cycle, and he didn't know how to claw out.
Without a secondthought, propelled by a force she couldn't control, she lunged forward,positioning herself between the gun and Gail.
