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The complexity of theemotion unsettled her, stirring a mix of feelings she couldn't quite name. Itwas unnerving, this acknowledgment from a man she had saved from the brink, aman who had caused so much pain and suffering. Yet, at that moment, he was justa man, beaten and bloodied, his life irrevocably altered by his actions and byher intervention.
Ella turned away,breaking the connection, her heart heavy with the weight of what this allmeant. She understood, perhaps better than anyone, that the line between saviorand enforcer was a thin one, blurred by the realities of their bizarre world.
'There he goes,'Ripley said.
'There he goes. Neverto see daylight again.'
‘You know, youcould've pulled your gun at the start, then you wouldn't be all wet,’ Ripleymused.
Ella gave a short, drylaugh, the sound more a release of pent-up tension than any real amusement.‘Someone once told me that bullets might solve problems, but they create newones too.' Her mind flickered to Logan Nash and Randall Carter, men whose liveshad been entangled with the very essence of this aphorism. ‘Not all problemsneed a bullet solution.'
Ella's gaze lingeredon the retreating silhouette of the man she'd pursued, his figure receding intoa cluster of uniformed officers that moved like a single, determined entity.
‘Well, I appreciatethe conversation, Dark,’ Ripley said, her voice slicing through the silencethat had settled between them. ‘But I'd rather you not turn into an icicle onmy watch. We've got a flight to catch, unless you're planning on swimminghome?’
Ella turned her headslightly, catching the faint glimmer of approval in Ripley's eyes. It was arare sight, one that came only when the tides of chaos receded just enough forthem to stand on common ground, realizing the storm they'd weathered together.
‘Home sounds goodabout now,’ Ella agreed, her words punctuated by the chattering of her teeth.She rose stiffly from their perch on the bridge, her muscles protesting thesudden movement after the shock of the icy water below.
Ripley stood besideher, casting a cursory glance along the expanse of the bridge. ‘Let's getmoving then,’ Ripley said. ‘You need to be checked out, warmed up. And I needcoffee strong enough to wake the dead.’
Ella managed a weaksmile, the adrenaline that had sustained her now ebbing away, leaving behind araw edge of fatigue. She followed Ripley's lead, stepping carefully over theicy patches that threatened to claim even the steadiest of feet.
'Good idea.'
'You got any dryclothes?' Ripley asked.
'No. I travel light.Could I borrow some?'
Ripley regarded Ellafrom head to toe. 'I have a few dresses, but you couldn't really pull themoff.'
Ella smirked. Makessense. I'll just get one of those I heart Sturgeon Bay t-shirts fromthe airport.'
'You planning oncoming back?'
Ella paused, her stepsmomentarily still. She turned, allowing herself one last look at the crimescene, the place where chaos had reigned and lives had been irrevocablyaltered. She surveyed the scene, taking in the details, committing them tomemory—the rough, icy patches where she had fought for balance, the dark,turbulent waters that had almost claimed more than just the guilty.
'Not any time soon,’Ella said.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Ella Dark pressed herforehead against the cool oval window, watching clouds roll by in a parade ofshape-shifting fluff. The whirring of the plane's engines provided a monotonousbackdrop to her thoughts, which were anything but serene. A small sigh escapedher lips, fogging up the glass before it dissipated into the recycled cabinair.
Her gaze fell from theskies to her hands, where her phone lay dormant and unlit. With a tap, thescreen flickered to life, revealing an absence that made her heart sink—a lackof messages from Ben. She had hoped for some sign he was thinking of her, somedigital token of affection to ease the emptiness of her return. But there wasnothing.
‘Nothing,’ shemuttered under her breath, locking the device before tucking it back into herbag with more force than necessary.
Across the aisle,Ripley was ensconced in a very different world. Her laughter, a sound so rareand startling, caused Ella to look over. Ripley's eyes sparkled with a joy thatElla hadn't seen before, the corners crinkling as she listened intently to thevoice on the other end. Ripley's laughter trickled into the cabin air, a soundso foreign to Ella that it might as well have been birdsong at midnight. TheMia Ripley she knew was never one to indulge in such carefree melodies; herlaughs were usually served with a side of cynicism.
'Put that lamb in theoven,' Ripley said down the line. ‘I'll tell you everything when I get back.'
Observing thehalf-exchange, Ella felt the distance between her and Ripley stretch beyond thephysical space of the airplane aisle. Ripley, once her stoic, whiskey-favoringcounterpart, now seemed light-years away, basking in a happiness that came fromsomething—or someone—elsewhere.
‘Seems like you've gotquite the evening planned,’ Ella said, keeping her tone light despite thetightness constricting her chest.
Ripley glanced at her,the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips. 'I'm a sucker for lamb. Shootme.'
'You know what Imean.'
