Page 8 of Fast Fury

Her words hit home. “Yeah, probably.” Before things could get any heavier, the waitress came and took their orders. When she left, Kai leaned back against the booth and regarded Abby. “So, what’s new with you these days? You seeing anyone?”

She made a face and fiddled with the paper napkin rolled around her utensils. “I’m working a lot. Been on a few dates, but not seeing anyone.” Her face brightened, light sparking in her pretty blue eyes. “But hey, I might finally get to visit your homeland.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to Maui?”

“Maybe. Not sure yet. My boss and his boss are going to a big pharmaceutical convention there, and they want to take a rep with a strong sales record for the last three quarters. It’s down to me and one other person. I’ll know by Sunday night, hopefully. The convention starts a week this Wednesday.”

“That’s great.”

“If I go, you’ll have to tell me all the places to hit up before I leave.”

“Might be able to do you one better.”

She cocked her head. “Yeah? How?”

“We’ve got a training thing scheduled for late this coming week, on Oahu. I’m trying to see if I can get some time off after that, maybe a week or so, and go visit my grandma and cousin back home. Been over a year-and-a-half since I’ve been back. If it works out, I can take you around the island personally for a couple days.” He’d freaking love to show her around his home island, get to spend more one-on-one time with her. See if he had a shot with her.

The corners of her lips curved up. “Really? You’re serious?”

He was more serious about her than she seemed to realize. He intended to make that clear real soon. “Totally serious. I’d love to show you my island.”

“Well then, I accept. If I get the nod and you get the time off, I’m all yours.”

The words heated his blood, filled his head with all kinds of things he would do to her if she were his. Hot, dirty things that would leave them both sated and sweaty and craving more of. “Deal.”

Getting the time off was going to be a tall order, however, because FAST Bravo was in more demand than ever before. The war on drugs was raging hotter than ever, the body count piling higher with each passing day—and theVenenoswere right at the epicenter of it.

Chapter Three

I’m not ready.

Unfortunately it didn’t matter, because she didn’t have a choice about doing this.

Diane followed the coroner down the hallway in a complete daze. Her body moved on autopilot, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. The harsh overhead lights glared off the white walls, hurting her eyes. A stale smell hung in the air. And with every step she took, bringing her closer and closer to the double doors at the end of the hall, the more the bubble of panic burned inside her chest.

The coroner, a young woman in her late-twenties, paused at the doors to look at her, her brown eyes sympathetic behind the lenses of her stylish glasses. “Are you ready?”

Diane stared at her for a moment.No, I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.She rubbed her cold, damp palms against her jeans and nodded, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.

The harsh, stringent scent of chemicals hit her as soon as the door swung open. Everything was eerily quiet, completely sterile. Cold. A stainless steel autopsy table sat empty in the center of the room. In front of her, a wall of stainless steel compartments with handles covered one end of the room.

The soles of her shoes stuck to the floor. She faced that terrible wall, every muscle in her body drawn taut as the pathologist stepped forward to grasp one of the handles. A metallic click echoed in the unnatural stillness of the room, then the door slid open. The woman reached in and began pulling out the refrigerated drawer inside.

Diane took an involuntary step back, terror gripping her. But no matter how afraid she was, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from that drawer. Could only stare as the body came out, covered in a pristine white sheet, then the pathologist began to draw it down to reveal the victim.

Dark hair. A ghostly pale face, almost blue.

An inhuman sound ripped free of her chest. One trembling hand went to her mouth, agony and horror knifing through her.Bailey.

“Nooooo,” she cried, the sound scraping over her raw throat. She wanted to scream it. Prayed for this to be a horrible mistake. A sick joke.

But the irrefutable evidence was right before her.

Her beautiful twenty-two-year-old daughter lay stretched out on that cold steel slab, eyes closed. A bluish tinge surrounded her eyes, mouth and nose, the little star-shaped piercing there glinting in the unforgiving overhead lights.

Diane’s legs gave out. Pain shot through her knees, jolted through her entire body as she hit the linoleum floor. The pathologist gasped and lunged forward to grab her. Diane lashed out with her arms, a feral cry of rage and agony emitting from her lips.

Her stomach twisted. She doubled over, gagging. A trashcan appeared in front of her face. She grabbed it blindly, bent over it and retched, until nothing was left and her throat and mouth burned from the bile.

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