Page 72 of Stiletto's Savior

I hate that I’m not going with them, especially after everything that happened to me.

“Goddamn it,” I mutter to myself, pacing across the garage.

They just left and I know every second they’re away is going to feel like an eternity.

My heart races—not from fear, but adrenaline.

They need answers, but so do I.

I catch sight of Siren through the open door.

She’s talking animatedly with Ripper, her hands slicing the air.

A knot tightens in my stomach.

I can’t sit here while they’re out there risking everything.

“Hey!” I call out. “Siren!”

She whips around, brow furrowed. “What’s up?”

“Where’s the Ranger?” My voice is sharper than I intend.

Her smile is teasing, but her eyes narrow. “Why? You thinkin’ of going for a joyride?”

I suck in a sharp breath. “No. There’s something I need to handle.”

She steps closer. “And what would that be?”

Her concern smothers me, even if it’s well-placed.

My sister licks her lips and there’s a silent recognition between us.

She knows what I’m doing, and she knows I don’t need anyone in my way.

“Hey, Rip. Why don’t we head into town and grab a bite to eat? I’m sure Tara would love to see ya.” Siren suggests the perfect excuse to get the two of them away for a bit.

Ripper raises an eyebrow, throwing a suspicious glance my way. But Siren’s already tugging on his arm, her smile sharp and cunning.

“Come on,” she says lightly, “Tara makes the best pastries and I’m dying for a lemon turnover.”

As soon as they’re out of sight, I stride across the garage to where the Ranger is parked.

My eyes scan over to one of the club’s side-by-sides.

The garage door creaks as I click the button on the visor of the Ranger.

The automated doors pull it open, the scent of motor oil and fuel hitting my nose.

With a flick of my wrist, I twist the key into the ignition and back the Ranger out.

The engine roars to life, vibrations humming through me.

I shut the door behind me, ready to escape into the wild.

“Song!”

I freeze at the sound of Miles’ voice.

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