Page 51 of Viper

She took the lawn chair next to him and stretched out her legs. “Nice and cool. I mean, it’s not the ocean, but I’ll take it.”

He shook his head and looked befuddled. “I can’t believe you dive. Not a fun way to die.”

She laughed. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from a man who’s been shot at and nearly blown up for a living, right?”

“Yeah, for a living. Not for shits and giggles.” He squinted through one eye as the sun hit his face.

She almost felt bad for him. Sweat rolled down his cheeks, and he wiped his face with a hand towel.

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it till you try it.”

He grimaced. “Guess I’m just not that curious. Have you seen any sharks up close?”

“So many. I saw a great white off the coast of Australia. That was a little too close for comfort. In Hawai’i I saw a hammerhead, and my friend and I tried to catch a glimpse of a bull shark here in Siesta Key.”

Reaper shuddered. “I’m surprised your family is okay with you doing that shit. Striker especially.”

She glared at him. “I’m an adult. I do what I want. Same as you.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just . . . I dunno.” He patted her arm. “I’d hate to see you become shark food.”

Anxiety pooled in her belly. If Reaper knew the extent of Craig’s threats, he probably wouldn’t have said that. Because if Craig had his way, she would be shark food.

Chewing her lower lip, she rolled her head back to face the sun. “Why don’t you swim? You look like you’re gonna die.”

“I feel like I’m gonna die,” he retorted. “Maybe I’ll swim later. Do you want to go for a walk to grab something cold to drink? I saw a juice bar across the street.”

She sprang from the lawn chair and shoved her feet in her sandals. “Say no more. I’m so thirsty.”

“Need to change first?” he asked as he stood.

She shook her head. “We’re by the beach. Everyone’s in swimsuits.” She tightened the knot on the towel around her waist.

“All right, let’s go.”

They made their way through the building and out to the street. Sure enough, there were several kids in wet bathing suits and caked in sand. Reaper bought them two large smoothies and passed her one. The taste of tart peaches and sweet strawberries made her mouth water.

Back in the apartment, Reaper switched on the TV and sank into the couch while she excused herself to have a shower.

As the cool water washed over Paige’s hair, she couldn’t help feeling impatient. Troy had been gone for a couple of hours and they’d heard nothing. She squirted a dollop of shampoo into her palm. Okay, it wasn’t impatience. It was worry.

She closed her eyes and scrubbed her hair. She just had to have faith he’d make it back to her—or she’d go crazy.

“No, no, no!” William screamed, as Troy gripped his wrist and held open his palm on the blood-streaked counter.

He withdrew his 9mm and placed the mouth of the gun on the back of William’s hand. His empathy had left the building a long time ago. “Where’s your phone?”

Sweat dripped off William’s face in sheets. He trembled as he dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell. He dropped it on the counter.

“Unlock it.”

William looked ready to pass out. The man could faint a hundred damn times, but Troy wasn’t leaving without the information he needed.

“There!” William sputtered.

Calmly, Troy nodded to Striker to grab the device. He kept one hand locked on the asshole’s wrist and the other on the gun.

Gratification slowed his heart rate. Part of him wanted to tear the guy to pieces, to make him wish he’d never helped Craig in the first place. However, he needed to keep his head on straight and do what he knew how to do best: fight, find, kill.