Page 86 of Viper

Striker’s jaw loosened a fraction. “I hear you.”

“Boys, what do we have for intel?”

Havoc shared that they had the make, model, and plate number of the last known vehicle Spencer had been in—hopefully with Paige. If they were simply chasing the car and he’d done something with her already, they might be too many steps behind.

“Use highway cams,” Rogue ordered. “There’s gotta be a sighting of them somewhere.”

“Already done, dude.”

Havoc’s bleak response told Troy he’d already started the search and hadn’t found a clue yet.

“Takes time. There’s a lot of footage for the software to sift through. Keep me posted and if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“We will. Thanks.” Troy ended the call and returned the device to Striker. He locked his attention on Havoc. “Anything?”

Reaper shook his head with regret.

Havoc’s mouth turned down at the corners. He rubbed his temple and shook his head. “Sorry, man.”

“We just started, chum,” Wraith said to Havoc, before looking at Troy. “Maybe we should consider going to the police. They could find Spencer faster.”

Irritation raised the hairs on Troy’s arms, but he quickly stomped it out. At this point, they needed all the help they could get to find Paige. “All right. You handle that. I can’t deal with police right now.”

“Hang on a minute,” Havoc said. “They’re going to wonder how we found out where Spencer lives. They’ll ask questions.”

“And you don’t want to get your girlfriend in trouble,” Striker said tauntingly, but his tone was lit with fire.

Havoc’s expression turned ferocious. “Get your head out of your ass. You wouldn’t compromise one of your contacts if the tables were turned and you know it.”

“It’s a little different when you’re trying to get a piece of a⁠—”

“Enough!” Troy boomed. His command reverberated through the tiny space. “I don’t have the capacity for this shit. Call the cops. Don’t call the cops. I don’t give a shit—just do something, for Christ’s sake.”

Wraith stood and gave a sharp nod. “Aye. Striker, you and I will pay Hedley a visit.”

Striker mumbled his agreement. “Better than nothin’. If we can’t go to the cops, at least we can see if he’s learned anything else about Spencer.”

Wraith, Reaper, and Striker left. Havoc continued to work on the computer. Troy was nothing but a useless tool.

He couldn’t leave. Couldn’t sit.

They needed a lead before he jumped out of his fucking skin.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You’re sick,” Paige spat. Gone was the thought of pacifying this monster to preserve herself. She’d rather fight him than fall victim to his twisted fantasies.

He leaned forward and gripped her face in his palm, pinching her lips so hard they puckered. “I like your smart mouth. I might just fuck the attitude right out of it.”

Disgust slithered through her stomach and heat flamed her skin—followed by a fierce rush of violence. She glared at him, her breath hissing through her nose.

“Got something to say, starfish?” He pinched harder, gaining a cry from her. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “You’ll be a screamer. I just know it.”

He let go. The area around her mouth turned hot and prickly as blood rushed to it.

“Go on,” he said. “Try to insult me.”

She balled her hands into fists at her back, tearing her wrists as far apart as she could in an attempt to stretch the rigid plastic. “You’re a coward. So pathetic you have to kidnap women just to get laid.”