Page 98 of Viper

Bang!

The door jumped on its hinges. Her blood rushed to her feet and she shrieked.

“What are you doing?” Craig demanded, trying the doorknob. The lock held fast.

“I’ll be right there,” she blurted, with unveiled irritation. She kept the tap running, both to distract him and muffle her sounds.

She dried her hands and reached her thumb toward the button that would end the call—she couldn’t risk saying goodbye and being heard.

“Paige.”

Troy’s soft whisper made her bring the device back to her ear.

“Don’t let him find your phone. And . . . I love you.”

The line went dead.

She blinked, her heart processing the gentle admission faster than her brain could. She closed her eyes as emotion welled up in her chest. Happiness flooded her system, temporarily removing her from the bathroom. From the situation. Giving her seconds of peace.

“Come out now or I’ll slice open your throat.” Craig’s threat popped the blissful bubble.

“All right. God.” She tucked her phone back into her handbag, then placed the bag behind the toilet paper again. After shutting the cabinet door softly, she turned off the faucet and flushed the toilet.

Grabbing the hand towel from the rack, she opened the door.

Craig stood with his arms folded across his chest. “What were you doing in there?”

She cocked her head. “I had to pee. Then scrub away whatever deadly bacteria got into my hand.” She opened her palm for emphasis before wrapping the towel tightly around her skin.

He stood back, but a line of doubt creased his brow. “Kitchen.”

She moved into the hallway. Her shoulder blades prickled with foreboding as he walked at her back. Reaching the dining room, she took one of the chairs at the table. Place mats, cutlery, and plates were laid out neatly.

Craig sat across from her, a pleasant, disturbing smile on his lips—as if he hadn’t just held her underwater as shark bait.

He might be completely disturbed, but she wasn’t beyond playing along with his sick fantasy to keep herself alive a little while longer. “Did you make something?” she asked, nodding at the casserole dish in the center of the table. A lid covered whatever was inside.

“Oh, just had some meat lying around I needed to use up. Go on. Help yourself.”

Her stomach roiled. Something about the gleeful glint in his eyes made her want to shove back her chair and run.

Pressing her dry lips together, she reached for the handle.

“Oh, hang on.” He passed her an oven mitt. “Don’t want you to burn yourself.”

She gave him a tense smile but accepted the blue-and-white checkered glove and fit her uninjured hand inside. She removed the ceramic lid and placed it on the table.

Red spaghetti sauce bubbled around rice and chunks of meat. She eased down her shoulders an inch, grateful there was nothing gruesome waiting inside.

She reached for the serving spoon.

“Allow me.” He delved the spoon into the casserole and pulled up a large helping of the meal for her.

A gray gnarled finger rolled across her plate.

Paige screamed and pushed her chair backward, falling hard on the floor. Revulsion hurtled up her esophagus, making her retch onto the smooth hardwood.

“Paige, meet Annamay.” His cheery tone acted as though they were really meeting for the first time.