Page 13 of Stiletto's Savior

My heart pounds, anticipation clawing at my chest. I want to see her—Stiletto.

I need her to be safe, but she isn’t right now. She’s still missing.

Stepping off the plane, the cold air hits me like a slap.

I pull my jacket closer, scanning the terminal for the baggage claim.

The buzz of voices swirls around me.

I make my way to baggage claim and get my bags, watching as families reunite, laughter ringing out and it’s incredibly irritating.

I grab my duffel and head toward the exit.

Outside, I search for Suyin, otherwise known as Siren.

She promised she’d be here to pick me up.

I lean against the wall, watching, waiting for a vehicle to pull up.

Then I see her. Dark hair flowing, eyes bright, and I swear she looks relieved when she spots me.

I push off the wall, moving toward her.

“Miles!” She launches into my arms, wrapping me tight. Her warmth seeps into me, a brief comfort amid the storm brewing inside. “You made it. Thank God you’re here,” Siren whispers into my chest. I feel the tremor in her voice.

She’s trying to hold it together, but I can sense the storm behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I say, tightening my grip. I won’t let go. Not now. Not ever.

“How’ve you been?” she asks, pulling back slightly, searching my face. But I can see it—the worry etched into her features.

“Just... okay.” It’s a lie, but I don’t have the energy to explain.

Not when Stiletto is missing.

“How’s Deanna?” she ventures, her eyes darting away for a moment.

She’s probing, testing the waters.

“Not anymore,” I admit, the words bitter on my tongue. “She didn’t want me coming out here, so I broke things off with her. There was no way I was gonna sit back home on my ass.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Siren says, biting her lip. “You’ll find the right one eventually.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I shrug it off. Right now, there’s only one woman on my mind.

“Let’s get going,” I say, urgency lacing my tone.

“Yeah,” I say, holding her close. “Do you know where she is?”

Siren pulls back, her smile faltering. “Let’s get you in the truck first, then we can talk about this.”

Emotion swells in my chest, but I keep my expression steady.

I’ve always cared for them but with Stiletto? That’s different. Too complicated.

We push through the heavy glass doors.

The cold air hits me like a shockwave. Montana’s winter bites deep, but it’s nothing compared to the chill settling over my mind.

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