Page 77 of Viper

Havoc hit a number on his phone.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice, low and sultry, came through the speaker.

“Marissa. It’s Havoc.”

“Mmm. I know.”

Striker snorted something unintelligible. Troy threw him a warning glare. Last thing they needed was for Marissa to hear a rude comment and refuse to help.

“Listen, love. Gonna need some help. Can you get me a location on an officer’s cruiser?”

“Depends who it is,” she said, her playfulness gone.

“Spencer Vokle.”

“Umm. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll see what I can do.”

He thanked her and hung up.

Striker placed his elbow on the console and turned to face Havoc. “How the hell do you know a woman so, um, intimately in Florida? You’ve only been here a couple of days.”

“It pays to keep contacts, Striker. You should know that.”

“No shit. Sounds like she’s got a personal relationship with you, though,” Striker said with interest. “Something you’re not telling us?”

Troy wanted to tell both of them to shut up. He didn’t give a damn about who Havoc knew or fucked. But the distraction was needed while they waited.

Havoc barked out a laugh. “Fuck no. I’ll stay single till the day I die. I know Marissa through a friend. Haven’t spoken to her in a while, but we were going to meet for dinner tonight. Made plans when I called her this morning and asked for Hedley’s schedule.”

“Well, dinner’s off unless we find Paige,” Troy growled.

Havoc patted his shoulder. “I know, man. She’s our priority now, don’t worry.”

He steered his gaze out the window. She was more than their priority. She was everything. He wouldn’t stop searching for her. Wouldn’t give up.

Because he didn’t want to live in a world without Paige.

Chapter Twenty

Sweat trickled down Paige’s face, making the sack stick to her cheeks and mouth. She rubbed her head against the floor of the trunk, trying to mop up some of the moisture. The scratchy material only succeeded in making her itch.

Letting out a low grunt, she kicked the trunk door. She tried to scream, but the sound came out like an animalistic growl through the damp cloth clamped between her teeth.

She didn’t care if Craig was waiting on the other side. Didn’t care if they threw her in the ocean at this point. All she wanted was to breathe fresh air, even for a second. She’d rather stare down the mouth of a gun than suffocate.

Had they forgotten about her? Left her here to die?

She booted the door again. Maybe they’d abandoned the vehicle and someone nearby could⁠—

Wham!

Something slammed against the roof of the trunk. She jumped, and her heart leaped into her throat. Metal tinkled and the lid creaked open. Light filtered through the material over her head, making her wince. Rough hands seized her biceps and hauled her from the trunk.

Her captor didn’t say a word. Instead, he threw her over his shoulder and walked, his footsteps crunching on gravel.

His shoulder dug into her abdomen, sending a shooting pain through her stomach. Dizziness assailed her. Vomit crawled up her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t throw up. Bile touched her tongue.

With her arms secured behind her back she couldn’t punch or fight. Kicking would be futile, and he could end up dropping her. The only good thing about being upside down was that the sack had slid up her face to expose her nose.