Page 108 of Viper

Not only could he have lost her, but she could have endured unimaginable things—already had, but holy shit, things could have been even worse.

He lowered his face to her shoulder. Damn, he hated what she’d been through. Then, after all that, she’d been left in the fucking ocean to die. His blood turned hot. If it weren’t for the need to warm up Paige, he would’ve stood to pace and release his aggression.

Instead, he just sat and held her. His heart rate finally returned to normal. She was safe. That was what mattered.

She sniffed, breaking the spell.

He kissed her cheek, then her cold lips. He brought his nose to hers so she couldn’t look anywhere but at him. “You’re safe, Paige. He’s done. No one will ever touch you again.”

She inhaled a shaky breath and nodded. “I know.”

He reached for the hand cradled against her stomach beneath the blanket. “Lemme see that cut.”

She opened her palm and winced.

The wound was deep, and blood oozed from her hand. He motioned to get Reaper’s attention. “Grab the first aid kit.”

His friend immediately headed inside the yacht.

Fear twisted Paige’s face. Her lips appeared to have color again, but the rest of her skin was pale. “What do we do from here?”

“We go home,” he said, without missing a beat.

“I mean about him.”

He cradled her cheek in his palm again. “Whatever you want me to do.”

Surprise darkened her eyes, but she didn’t pull away. She shook her head and lowered her gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”

He caught her chin with his thumb and tipped it up so her eyes met his. “Say nothing. Don’t even think about it.”

He could come up with a hundred ways to slowly kill Craig and wouldn’t balk at executing every one of them.

“Unless you’ve got something you want me to do—or not do. If there’s something that will bother you, speak up.”

The last thing he wanted was for her to have regrets or remorse about how he dealt with the situation.

She sucked the corner of her lip between her teeth and shook her head. “I’m good with however you handle it.”

Striker walked over. He stripped off his shirt and passed it to Paige. “Here, dry clothes will get you warm faster.”

“Thank you.”

Troy accepted the clothing so she didn’t have to remove her arms from the blanket just yet.

Striker nodded, then wrapped his arm around Paige’s shoulders and kissed her head. “I’m so glad you’re okay, sis.”

She smiled at him but appeared to be struggling to keep it together.

“Havoc is calling the Coast Guard,” Striker said, looking at Troy. “If there’s something you want to take care of . . .”

Troy gave a brusque nod. He fit the shirt over Paige’s head, and she pushed her arms through the sleeves.

Bundling her in the thermal blanket again, he ran his hand up and down her back. “You good with this asshat for a few minutes?”

She managed another weak smile. “Of course.”

He kissed her cheek. “Good. I’ll be right back.”