~ 41 ~
PEYTON
“And you’re absolutely sure that’s what he said?” Ripley asked again. “Natalie?”
His voice was cold and gravelly. The expression on his face was something between deep trepidation, and violent, barely-controlled rage.
“Yes,” Colson replied. “Adam and Brayden, too.”
Theo tried passing a mug of coffee his way. Ripley swatted it to the other side of the table without looking at it.
“I’ll kill him.”
The words were dark and full of gravity. There was no doubt in my mind he meant what he said.
“Ripley, listen—”
“No, YOU listen!” he snapped acidly. “Before, I was content to ruin him. To expose and destroy him, and his whole fucking network.”
He curled his fingers into a fist so big, it looked like the head of a sledgehammer.
“But now, he dies.”
He pounded the table and stood up, knocking his chair over. Then he stormed straight through the living room, into the foyer, and right out the front door.
Colson rose quickly, and moved to follow. I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Let me handle this one?”
An inner conflict crossed the Marine’s face. He considered me for a moment, then nodded.
I hurried out, grabbing two of the oversized, snorkel-hooded coats hanging near the door. I slipped into one quickly, the sleeves hanging well past my wrists. The other I carried with me as I ran after Ripley, who was moving with a speed driven by anger, frustration, and maybe, the need to be alone.
Too bad on that last one.
Outside, the snow floated down in big, lazy flakes, much slower than usual. I followed him around the side of the house, and out into the narrow path beyond the lava ridges. The breeze usually whistled against the rocks here, feeding into the side of the house like a wind tunnel. But it was oddly quiet now, with the snow muffling everything.
“Ripley!”
The cold bit at my face and hands, even without the wind. As silent and beautiful a scene it was, I found myself missing the constant low hum of the geothermal flooring.
“Ripley, wait!”
I caught up to him a few dozen steps later, leaning against a jagged outcropping of rock. His head was down. He wouldn’t look at me.
“Please,” I huffed. “This air’s biting my lungs. I can’t run.”
“So don’t,” he said miserably.
“Here. Take this.”
I held the second jacket out to him. He shook his head.
“Ripley—”
“Do you have any idea what happens next?” he said abruptly. “Now that Donovan’s found my sister?”
I looked back at him, open-mouthed. “Your…sister?”
