Page 35 of Viper

“Want a few minutes?”

She shook her head and instantly regretted it. “I want this over with—and I want them to find Craig.”

His eyes turned hard and dark. He rose, pressed a kiss to her head, then straightened. “Oh, you’ll also have to speak with your brother. I’m sorry, but I had to tell him what happened.”

“I’ll call him after.”

He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “No need. He already booked a flight here. Should arrive in the morning.”

Her heart swelled in her chest. She and Atlas butted heads sometimes. He’d always been overbearing. But when she needed someone, he was there—whether she liked it or not. And right now, she was more than grateful. “He didn’t have to do that. Hell, I’m going to be home in a couple of days.”

Troy’s mouth twitched at the corner. “Just so happens we’ve got work to do here now. So I think you’d better stick with us.”

“Well, I could think of worse things to do than spend time in a tropical climate.”

He chuckled.

A knock sounded at the door, and she turned to see a doctor with a clipboard in his hands.

“Oh, good,” the doctor said. “You’re awake. How’re you feeling?”

She gave him a filtered-down version of how shitty she felt, hoping she’d be released soon. He talked about the drug they’d found in her system and said she was very lucky she hadn’t consumed the whole glass.

Troy stood next to her bed, his arms crossed formidably in front of his chest and his eyes narrowed. He looked more like a wary bodyguard than her . . . Her what?

The annoying thud against her forehead urged her to push that question from her mind. At the very least, Troy was a friend. She wouldn’t analyze their relationship any further right now.

“So can we go soon?” she asked, more than a little desperate.

“I don’t see any reason for you to stay. You’re stable now, and your vitals look good. Expect some nausea and headaches, probably fatigue. If anything else bothers you, come back and see us.”

She thanked him and he left the room. Before she could catch her breath, an officer appeared in the doorway. Troy glanced at her, silently asking for her permission. She gave him a brisk nod, and the cop came in and introduced himself.

She and Troy spent the next twenty minutes going over everything they’d done that day, right up until the moment she’d blacked out. The officer took notes, his expression passive—almost disinterested.

“He’s obviously still in Florida,” she finally said. “He made it clear he-he wants me. He said I’m his. I don’t think he’s leaving anytime soon.”

The officer nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got that down. We’re searching everywhere. The car he had at the restaurant was stolen, so unfortunately that doesn’t give us much to go on.”

“What about surveillance footage?” Troy asked.

The cop regarded him, appearing mildly irritated. “That’s already been obtained. We saw him on camera, and it seems he’d found a server’s uniform to blend in. He figured out which order was yours and mixed in the drug, then waited near the back for an opportunity to grab you. Rest assured, we’re doing our best to find him. If you hear from him, please give us a call.”

No shit, she thought. But she smiled and he left.

And she couldn’t help but feel as though Craig would get to her before the police got to him.

Troy rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. “You almost done?” he called. He’d hated leaving Paige alone to bathe. At least she’d started to seem more like herself after he’d gotten her back to his place and she’d eaten.

He’d made spaghetti, meatballs, and salad. He was stuffed now, but he’d probably end up polishing off the leftovers before he went to bed.

“Uh . . . almost. Why?”

“’Cause I don’t want you getting out of the tub without assistance.”

Silence. “I-I’m fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “You said you were still dizzy.”