Page 37 of Stiletto's Savior

“God, this is amazing,” I mumble through a mouthful, feeling a wave of relief wash over me along with the taste of freedom.

Bull wastes no time getting back on the road, shoving his Big Mac in his mouth as he drives.

Miles eats in silence, eyes boring into me.

The SUV hums along the highway.

The tires grip the asphalt, a steady rhythm beneath us.

I take another sip of my sweet tea, letting the sugar settle against my tongue.

I blink rapidly as I finish my food, fighting against the drowsiness. But it's no use.

The warmth of Miles beside me is intoxicating.

His presence wraps around me like a soft blanket.

“Just close your eyes and rest,” he murmurs, sounding almost protective.

I glance at him, and for a fraction of a second, his brown eyes hold mine—intense, unwavering. It feels safe.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice right now,” I whisper, letting my eyes flutter shut.

The hum of the engine becomes a lullaby.

I sink deeper into the seat.

A few moments pass before I feel his arm slip around my shoulders.

He pulls me closer.

“Gotcha,” he says softly, as if reading my mind.

His warmth radiates through the fabric of my shirt.

I allow myself to melt against him, surrendering to the exhaustion.

“Thanks, Miles,” I murmur, feeling a sense of security wash over me.

As I drift away, I realize I’ve never felt more safe.

CHAPTER NINE

Miles

The smoke curls up, blurring the world around me.

I inhale deep, feeling the burn in my lungs. Exhale.

The tension eases, but it doesn’t go far.

Things have been insane since we got Stiletto back two days ago.

I can’t shake the worry gnawing at me.

She’s been through hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it—feeling useless.

I flick ash onto the cracked pavement and glance at the door behind me.

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