Page 99 of Viper

Horror shook her senses, making the room tilt.

She wasn’t making it out of here alive.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Do you have her location?” Troy bellowed, running to where Havoc stood on the beach.

His friend flicked his gaze at him then back to the screen in his hand. “Yes. Just got it.” He angled his body toward Troy, showing him the red pin surrounded by blue.

“How far?” he asked, sending an impatient glare to the ocean as if he could will Craig’s yacht to appear.

“Twenty miles or so.”

“Fuck!” he spat, kicking the sand.

“I did some more digging on boat storage in the area. Looks like Spencer’s cousin owned one nearby. I bet that’s where Craig hid his boat.”

Troy braced his hands on his hips, anger tumbling off his chest. Rage wouldn’t do a goddamn thing to help matters right now, but he couldn’t seem to stomp out his fury.

Striker stood several steps away with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking to someone he thought might be able to lend them a boat.

If it’d even get here in time.

Reaper pulled out his phone. “Calling Rogue to give him a sitrep.”

Troy nodded. Not that Rogue could do anything from Pittsburgh, but their lead soldier needed a situation report regardless.

Reaper placed the call and walked in the opposite direction of where Striker stood.

Wraith met Troy’s gaze and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How you holdin’ up, brother?”

He wanted to jerk away from the Scot. Instead he shook his head, trying valiantly to fight off the wreath of panic surrounding his neck. “Not good.”

“Aye.” He nodded, his crisp green eyes lacking their usual challenge. “We’ll get ’er back.”

He blew a low breath through his lips and shoved his weapon into the waistband at his back. “You know what kind of sick prick he is.”

“Aye,” he said again. “I also know Paige is a smart lass. Smarter than you that’s for sure,” he teased.

“Smarter than all of us.”

Wraith chucked him under the chin. “Then have faith.”

Striker’s boots crushed the sand as he approached. “Got a boat!” he called, his voice triumphant.

“When?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

Troy shoved his hand through his hair. Fuck, she might not have fifteen minutes. He’d heard Craig screaming at her in the background. Heard the intimidating way he spoke to her.

Troy balled his hands into fists.

He’d tear the cocksucker apart and make sure he lived to feel every ounce of pain. If Paige was hurt⁠—

Christ.

He couldn’t go there. His breath came out in spasms. He struggled to get his breathing under control, to slow his blinding heart rate, but he couldn’t do anything but stare at the water with regret.