Page 76 of Viper

Come on. Calm down and think.

The tires whirred beneath where she lay. Judging by the speed and lack of stops, they were on the highway. Of course, he had to be taking her to Craig—or Craig himself was behind the wheel. A shudder ripped down her skin. She’d be less scared to face the devil himself.

Troy would find her. He knew she was in danger and who was involved. He’d track them down. She just had to not pass out and not lose her mind from hysteria.

Easier said than done.

She also had to remind herself that Atlas was a trained soldier. He’d lived through bombings, survived gunshots, and worked in impossible conditions. Nothing short of a bullet to the head would take him out.

Please, God. Let Atlas be okay.

He’d only recently found happiness with Molly. The idea of something happening to him made her breathing even more erratic. She just had to⁠—

The vehicle slowed, causing her to roll toward the back of the trunk. She struggled against the pull, using her core for stability and extending her legs to stop herself from flying backward. The smooth road turned to gravel. The car bumped over rocky stones for what seemed like forever.

Angst crackled in her brain. Her mouth went dry and every breath caught in the back of her throat. The car came to a stop. Panic beat a blinding drum against her temples.

This is it. They’re going to kill me now.

“Do you have Vokle’s address yet?” Troy asked, glancing briefly in the rearview at Havoc before returning his attention to the road.

Striker rode shotgun. Reaper and Wraith had taken Striker’s SUV, and they were following Troy.

“Just got it. I’m texting it to Reaper now so they can meet us there.”

“Good.” Troy let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t even know where the hell we’re going.” The words came out on a weak choke. He was trying to hold his shit together for Striker’s sake. If they both lost it, they’d be no help to Paige.

“Vokle won’t be at his house,” Striker said with defeat. “He’s on duty right now. My bet is he delivered Paige to Craig and returned to work.”

“Maybe we should go to the police station and tell them what happened,” Havoc said. “Demand they bring in Vokle and find out what he did with Paige.”

“We’ll be fucking tied up for hours,” Troy said, shaking his head adamantly. “I’m not doing this through red tape.”

“Counterproductive,” Striker agreed with irritation.

Troy glanced at his friend. Some of the color had returned to his skin, but he still looked as if he’d been through the wringer. “You okay, man? Need me to stop somewhere?”

Striker scoffed. “No fucking way.” He polished off the water bottle he’d grabbed from the back seat. Wiping his mouth, he shot Troy a frustrated look. “So we’re just cruising around for funsies?”

“No, for fuck’s sake. If you’ve got a plan, let’s hear it. For right now, I’m getting us back to Siesta Key.”

And hopefully that wasn’t a mistake.

“All of our equipment’s at the apartment,” Havoc said.

Dread cinched Troy’s vocal cords. They needed a lead and they needed one now. He jerked the car to the side of the road.

“Wait, what the—” Striker held on to the doorframe.

Troy lurched to a stop. He checked the rearview to make sure Reaper and Wraith followed suit. They almost hit Troy’s bumper. Wraith threw his hands in the air, clearly pissed.

“Havoc, the contact you used to obtain Hedley’s schedule—can you call them to find out where Vokle is? The cruisers have trackers.”

“Holy shit, man,” Havoc said, digging in his pants pocket. “I didn’t even think of that.”

He turned his attention to Striker. “Text Wraith and let him know why we’re stopped.”

“Copy.”