Page 21 of Viper

Terror racked her muscles in torrents. Her body quivered as she squirted shampoo into her palm and scrubbed roughly at her scalp as if doing so would erase the image of Craig standing over her with a bucket of chum.

Her legs trembled. She quickly pushed aside the shower curtain and sat on the edge of the tub, not caring if water escaped onto the floor. A whimper shook her ribcage.

Her breath came out in panicked gasps. She had to get her shit together. Force Craig from her mind and take comfort in the fact that he hadn’t hurt her. That the police were looking for him and⁠—

Knock, knock

She jumped.

“Paige, you all right?” The gentle timbre of Troy’s voice floated through the bathroom.

“Um, yeah,” she stammered. “Fine. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

A beat passed. “Take your time.”

She blew a breath through her lips and stood. She couldn’t waste time wallowing in self-pity and fear. That wouldn’t help matters.

She finished washing her hair and turned off the tap. With a fluffy towel that matched Troy’s, she dried herself off, and then she wrapped the material around her body, securing it between her breasts.

Troy had said to use whatever she needed—and right now she needed toothpaste to replace the metallic taste of terror in her mouth. It’d been about fifteen years since she had to brush her teeth with her finger, but the old sleepover trick she’d learned as a kid, having forgotten her toothbrush too many times, would have to suffice.

After spitting out the minty foam, she opened the bathroom door.

“I put dry clothes on the bed. Wasn’t sure if you brought clean pajamas.”

She turned toward Troy. He stood to her left at the threshold of the bedroom. He’d dressed in a pair of black jogging pants and a gray T-shirt that hugged his biceps and thick torso. His olive skin was much darker than usual, and his tan made his bright-blue eyes dance.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“I bet you’re exhausted, but do you need anything? I can order you some food if you’re hungry.”

She shook her head. Her wet hair curled around her shoulders and chilled her skin in the air-conditioned space. If her body weren’t still locked in fight-or-flight, she might have taken him up on the offer.

“I think I’m just going to crash if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure is.”

She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. He didn’t move from the bedroom doorway, but his gaze shifted from her face and traveled over her towel and down her legs before crawling back up. Her body buzzed beneath his scrutiny.

“You never told me why you came to see me,” she blurted. Oh, crap. What the hell was wrong with her? She glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth, kicking herself for bringing up the subject he’d clearly wanted to drop earlier.

His brow wrinkled and his mouth swished to the side before coming back to center. “Probably a conversation better had over coffee.”

She edged away from the bathroom and stopped six inches from where he stood. “I’m too tired for coffee.”

He snorted. “That’s why people drink it, Paige.” The humor left his face. “Seriously. We’re both beat. Let’s chat in the morning.”

She shook her head. “I need to know.”

Damn, damn, damn.

She did need to know why he was here. Wanted to hear his explanation more than she wanted sleep. But she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to keep herself in check. Not when he looked so delicious and . . . and like a man starved.

“Paige,” he growled.

She moved her hand from the towel—having far too much faith in her material-tucking abilities—to touch his folded forearm. “Please.”

The simple request seemed to break whatever was restraining him.