Page 28 of Stiletto's Savior

His weight pressing down, suffocating.

I can still feel the phantom of his hand around my throat.

My scream echoes in my head.

The punch—the pain. It’s a sickening reminder that this is real.

“Not again,” I whisper, shaking my head violently as if I could shake it all away.

I don’t know why this happens, why my memories haunt me so much.

It didn’t used to be this bad, but since I’ve been taken, it’s every day.

“Just breathe,” I tell myself, but my heart pounds louder than my thoughts.

Each thud screams of dread. I can’t escape the darkness.

A crash jolts me into the present moment.

Voices thunder above. Men arguing. I blink through the fog.

“Shut up!” one growls.

“Get your head in the game!” another snaps.

My heart races.

Panic floods my veins.

I strain to understand.

Words blur together—threats, curses.

“Move!” A loud bang echoes. My breath halts.

More gunshots than before.

“God, no,” I whisper, pressing my back harder against the wall.

The sound ricochets in my skull. Adrenaline spikes.

“Is it the club?” I think. “Have they finally found me?”

Doubt gnaws at me.

What if it’s not them?

What if it’s worse?

It could be another one of The Commander’s enemies, anyone.

“Please, please.” I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to make myself small.

The floorboards creak overhead.

I hear footsteps—heavy, chaotic.

The air thickens with tension.

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