Page 67 of Viper

“One second.” Then, “Timmy, please find your shoes, for the love of god.” A door shut in the background. “I haven’t talked to anyone from college in years,” she said, her voice lower now. “But I will confirm that Craig is a sick sonofabitch. He— I can’t. I can’t talk about this. Just whatever you do, keep me out of it.” She hung up.

Troy made a face. “That was pointless.”

“Not really,” Havoc said, toying with the edges of his phone. “She might be a witness for police once we catch this bastard.”

Troy curled his lip. “He won’t make it to jail and you know it.”

Because I won’t let him.

“Stranger things have happened.”

A knock sounded at the door. Troy got to his feet and checked the peephole, then let Striker inside.

“Tell me you’ve got coffee on,” he said.

“Help yourself.” Troy nodded at the machine.

“Thanks. Did you get Hedley’s schedule?” Striker asked, as he pulled a mug from the cupboard.

He’d called Striker soon after getting out of bed to update him on their progress, and to ask him to hang out with Paige while they paid Hedley a visit.

“Yup,” Havoc said. “He just got off his night shift an hour ago. I’m sure he’s asleep right now.”

“Good,” Striker grumbled. He was probably just as eager as Troy to put Craig in the ground. “You taking off now?”

“Yeah, I’ll let Paige know I’m leaving. You ready, Havoc?”

“Whenever you are,” he said, rising and clearing his dishes.

Troy strode through the living room and down the hall. He paused outside the bathroom. The roar of a blow dryer came through the door.

He knocked, but she probably couldn’t hear over the noise. Trying the knob, he opened the door a crack. Paige stood at the vanity with a towel knotted between her breasts and her hair a wild, tangled mane.

He leaned against the jamb, just out of sight, unable to take his eyes off her. Her toned and tanned legs glistened from the shower, and the navy-blue towel hugged her ass like fucking plastic wrap. If she bent over, he’d be a goner. He licked his lips, wishing he could tear off the damn terrycloth and feed his cock to her from behind.

“Ah! Troy, you scared me!” She puffed out her cheeks and switched off the machine.

“Sorry, babe. Just coming to tell you I’m leaving now. Striker’ll stay with you.”

She screwed her lips to the side and balanced a hand on her hip. “Ditching me again, huh?” Her gray eyes flared for half a second but melted when he smiled.

Christ, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hopefully for the last time.”

She pursed her lips. After setting the blow dryer on the counter, she crossed the tile to meet him in the doorway. “I hope so, but does that mean you’re going to find Craig right now?”

He came further into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, then reached out to steady his hands on her arms. He couldn’t stop his fingers from moving in slow circles over her warm, silky-smooth skin.

Damn, it was torture standing so close to her while she was half naked. He could barely think, let alone answer basic questions.

“Paying the cop a visit,” he said, unable to even remember the fucker’s name at the moment. “And we’ll see where that leads.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You seem different. Tenser.”

“I am tense, baby.” He stretched his hand above her head, resting it on the wall. She leaned into him like a flower bending in the wind. He stroked his finger beneath her chin. “Someone tried to hurt you. That’d make any man tense. Hell, it’s making me fucking crazy.”

She tilted her head. “Not all men are like that.”