Page 106 of Viper

Craig had to be dead.

“Catch!” a voice boomed out.

She froze as her muddled brain tried to identify the speaker. Not Troy. Not Atlas.

Dozens of splashes hit the water around her. Something wet and cold pelted her face. The stench of dead fish surrounded her and the taste of blood hit her mouth.

Her stomach bottomed out. Terror electrified every cell in her body. Something had just been thrown in the water . . .

Chum.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rage coated Troy’s skin in a slimy sheen. “Where is that bastard?” he barked into the mic. He should’ve been quieter. Stealthier. But the fury—and fear—coursing through his veins had made that impossible.

“Top deck!” Havoc screamed.

“Wraith and Reaper, what’s your twenty?” Troy demanded.

He moved quickly from the bow, where he’d just searched for Paige. He’d heard a splash and had searched all around the surface of the water but couldn’t fucking find her. He’d prayed she’d found a way aboard, but they’d just swept every inch.

“We’ve got Craig, but Paige is in the water,” Striker cut in, his voice panicked. “He threw chum in the water! We couldn’t stop him in time.”

Troy’s breath leaked through his lips. “Where is she?”

“Port side!” Striker bellowed.

Troy ran toward the left side of the boat and spotted Striker reaching for the flotation device on the wall. Troy lifted his Kevlar vest over his head and threw it to the deck. Then he grasped the railing and dove overboard.

The cold water rushed over his head and body, freezing him from the outside in. His jeans and tight-fitted shirt made him work for every kick, but he didn’t slow. “Paige!” he yelled into the darkness. “Call out to me!”

“I-I’m over here!” Her words came out haltingly, skipping like an old CD.

“Keep talking baby! I’m coming!”

Hearing her voice spurred him on and drove away the debilitating cold. “Paige!” he screamed again, when she didn’t immediately answer.

“H-Here!” A sharp gasp. “Troy, stop! I think— I think there’s a shark in the water.” A sob came next.

He didn’t slow but forced himself to use gentler strokes to avoid splashing, which would only endanger them more.

“Go back,” she cried. “Get out of the water.”

“No fucking way!”

She was close. He could almost feel her energy warming the water between them. Something bumped his leg.

Fuck.

“Troy,” she wailed. There was so much terror, so much desolation in that one word. It cut him deep.

He stretched out his hand, searching—and caught her arm. Hauling her toward him, he quickly shifted onto his back, pulling her on top of his chest. “I’ve got you babe.”

Her frozen fingers locked on his shoulders. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the rapid clanking of her teeth. He kicked low, keeping his feet beneath the waves to avoid splashing. Fish particles bobbed on the surface, and he swam through the landmines.

“I s-saw a great white. I th-think.”

“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, despite the dread crawling up his limbs. “We’re almost there. Tuck your legs close to mine.”