Page 75 of Girl, Bound

‘Agent Dark,’ shesaid. ‘Guess I owe you one hell of a thank you.’

Ella waved it off,settling on the bumper beside her. ‘Just doing my job. You're the one who didthe hard part. Surviving.’

Ava looked down at herhands, scraped knuckles and torn nails, evidence of her fight. ‘I almostdidn't,’ she whispered. ‘When I was in that bag, when I couldn't breathe, Iwanted to let go. To just... drift away.’

Ella’s memory of thosehorrible moments still raw and bleeding. ‘But you didn't. You held on, Ava. Youfought like hell, and you won.’

‘And I'm going to keepfighting. Keep living. This... this whole thing, it's made me realize sometruths about myself. About the kind of person I want to be.’

Ella cocked her head,curiosity piqued. ‘Yeah? What kind is that?’

‘The kind who doesn'ttake shortcuts. Who doesn't put profit over people, or sweep the ugly stuffunder the rug. I've been cutting corners for too long. In my business, in mylife. It stops now.’

Ella felt a flicker ofpride, of something that might have been hope. She reached out, clasped Ava'shand in her own. ‘Good for you, Ava. Means you're one of the smart ones. One ofthe survivors.’

And then it hit her, abolt from the blue that set her head spinning.

Adam Draven, thehomicidal psychopath who'd orchestrated this whole nightmare. The man who'dsealed innocents up in bags, who'd played at being some twisted savior.

In the end, he'dgotten his wish.

Draven had wanted tocreate survivors, to burn away the weakness and leave only the strong.

And damn if he hadn't succeeded, in themost ass-backwards, stomach-churning way possible.

She gave Ava's handone last squeeze. Then she turned on her heel and stalked away.

She stalked off, her mind churning likea cement mixer. Draven had gotten his wish alright, but that didn't change whathe was. A grade-A psychopath with an undeserved God complex.

And if there was any justice in thisrotten world, he'd get a taste of his own medicine. See how he liked beingzipped up in a bag and left to marinate in his own crazy.

Ella's jaw clenched hard enough tocrack her back molars. The thought of that human skidmark being hailed as somekind of dark, misunderstood savior made her want to puke up her own stomach.

No, she'd make damn sure the world sawDraven for what he really was. A small, pathetic man who got off on playinggod, on dealing out life and death like some two-bit casino hustler.

‘We good to go?’Ripley asked.

Ella thought of theothers, the ones who hadn't been so lucky. Christian Maddox, Kara Murphy, EricSaunders. The ones Draven had sealed away in the dark, never to emerge.

They were the ones whodeserved to be remembered, to have their stories told.

And Draven would rotin a cell, forgotten and unmourned.

It wasn't a perfectending. There was no such thing, not in their line of work. But it wassomething close to justice, and for now, that would have to be enough.

‘Yeah. I’m ready togo,’ Ella said.

EPILOGUE

The morning sunstabbed through the blinds like a rusty shiv, stirring Ella from a sleep thatwas more coma than rest. She groaned, her body one giant bruise, a roadmap ofthe past few days’ abuse.

She stumbled to thebathroom and perched herself over the sink. The mirror in front of her was acruel mistress, throwing her reflection back at her like a bad mugshot.

Bloodshot eyes, skinthe color of day-old oatmeal.

Sheesh, she thought.More sleep was needed.

The director had givenher and Ripley a few days of mandatory R&R, a chance to lick their woundsand put their heads back on straight. But for Ella, the downtime was justanother kind of torment. Too much time to think, to dwell on the horrors they'dwitnessed. To second-guess every choice, every split-second decision that hadled them to this moment.

---