Page 96 of Viper

“Great. Can I clean this up now?” Hope surged through her. Maybe this sick game of his wasn’t so bad if it gave her an excuse to use the bathroom.

“In a minute.”

Her hand stung almost as much as the tears hitting the backs of her eyes. This bastard loved a mindfuck. He wanted to torment her. Break her.

He wouldn’t.

He stood then took her wrist and pulled her to the platform at the rear of the boat. A shudder ran through her. She dug her heels into the smooth deck, resisting.

He let out a giddy laugh, then yanked her arm. She pitched forward, her knees landing hard on the platform. He let go of her wrist and stood over top of her, the gun pointed at her head.

“That’s pretty bloody,” he crooned. “You should wash that off. The salt water will do you good.”

She curled her lip. “You mean give me a flesh-eating disease. That water’s full of bacteria.”

He knelt and brought his face an inch from hers. “You’ll die long before the bacteria kills you. Don’t worry.”

She narrowed her eyes. The impulse to shove him into the water tickled her muscles. The only thing that stopped her was the weapon pointing at her. He could get off a round before he was in the water.

“Go on. Dunk it in. Let’s see if we can catch something.”

She inhaled slowly through her nose, taking in the fishy water that had never smelled so terrifying. Leaning forward, she delved her hand into the cold waves.

The water momentarily held a red tinge. Anxiety ran up and down her arm like a trail of ants. She held her breath, counting in her head and ignoring the salty sting assaulting her gash.

“Oh come on. Wiggle it around. You know sharks like their meal to splash.”

She cut him a deadly look. “I can’t wait for Troy to come for you. He’s going to tear you apart with his bare hands.”

Whack

Craig’s sharp knuckles collided with her cheekbone, sending her to her ass—and thankfully wrenching her hand out of the water. Pain exploded across her face. She touched her cheek and glared at him through the tears stinging her eyes.

“Got something else to say, starfish?”

“Yes. Fuck you.”

His mouth compressed and his eyes turned to stone. “Hand back in the water.” He enunciated each word.

She tore her gaze from him and plunged her hand back in the water. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down. Her chest hit the platform and her free hand grappled with the edge to keep her from falling in.

“Maybe you can see if anything’s coming if you get closer.”

He shoved her harder and she sucked in a breath seconds before he forced her face under the frigid water. She pulled up her wounded hand beneath her chin, grabbing on to the rim of the platform for stability.

Instinct had her pulling her head back, trying desperately to get air. Her neck muscles strained, fighting against the pressure. The struggle made her run out of oxygen faster. In seconds, her lungs screamed and her throat muscles jumped.

Craig held fast.

She twisted and turned, swinging her elbow back in an effort to hit him.

It didn’t work. He pushed her in further. Something swam past her face. Terror clawed at her chest. She squeezed her eyes tight, and a silent cry sent bubbles from her nose—the last air she had left.

Craig gripped her hair at the scalp and yanked her head from the water. She gasped. The rough intake of air tore at her nostrils.

He threw her to the platform. She landed hard on her side, but she didn’t care about the stinging of her hip. Didn’t care that she was half naked. Didn’t care that her hand was still bleeding.

She was just grateful she hadn’t gotten her arm or face ripped off.