Page 52 of Stiletto's Savior

But the more I try to ignore it, the louder the memories become. They claw at the edges of my sanity.

I feel angry—angry at myself, angry at him for saving me. What was the point?

“Why couldn’t you just let me go,” I whisper, voice cracking.

Silence answers me, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

Snow continues to fall, soft and relentless.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, wishing for an escape.

“How are you feeling today, Song?” A nurse glides in, checking my IV.

“Like I just got run over by a truck,” I mutter, glaring at her.

She offers a sympathetic smile but doesn’t say anything else.

My gaze drifts to the window.

Snowflakes swirl outside, dancing against the glass like they’re celebrating something I can’t feel.

“Hey there kid,” Zane’s booming voice cuts through my thoughts.

I flinch, forcing myself to sit up straight against the pillows. “I didn’t expect to see you,” I admit.

“What did you think, I’d leave you in here until you were released and came back to the club?” he says, stepping inside with an amused smirk, his presence filling the room.

The nurse leaves the room and Zane gets closer.

He looks serious.

Too serious for my comfort.

“Is something going on?” I ask, anxiety bubbling beneath my skin.

He licks his lips, “Yeah, but that can wait. How are you?”

I suck in a sharp breath, not sure how to answer his question. “I’m okay.”

Zane takes a seat in a chair beside my bed, cocking a brow. “Are you really, or is that some bullshit answer that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

I swallow hard, knowing he has a daughter, so he knows all of the tricks. “I’m as good as I can be, Prez.”

“Good, honesty is important. I’m hoping this will cheer you up,” He pauses for a few moments. “We located two of The Commander’s men and were able to capture them.”

“Really?” I blink, trying to process this. A flicker of hope ignites, then is snuffed out by unease.

My stomach twists.

The thought of them getting The Commander sends a flutter of hope through me, but it’s quickly drowned by nausea.

I can’t shake the image of his face, the cruelty in those eyes that haunted my nightmares.

“One was dealt with last night. Gave us the location of The Commander’s safehouse.” His eyes search mine. “We’re working on the other one now.”

“That’s… good.” It feels wrong to think that way. My stomach churns. “What if he lies? What if they both do?”

“Then the club will deal with it,” Zane replies, his tone firm. “But we’re getting closer. Closer than we’ve ever gotten before.”

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