Page 24 of Stiletto's Savior

“Mmm,” I exhale sharply, tension rolling off me. “You’re right in a sense.”

“Of course I am.” She smirks, lightening the mood just enough. "Now, come on, try to be positive in the meantime. One way or another we’re going to get my sister back.”

The wind bites at my skin as I lean against the rough brick wall, the scent of stale cigarettes lingering in the air.

“Faith ain’t gonna cut it,” I reply, frustration creeping into my tone. “I need action.”

“Action is coming.” She meets my gaze, those dark eyes fierce and determined. “Trust me, Miles. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Time.” I huff out a breath, glancing away. The shadows stretch long in the dusk, just like my fears. “I can’t let them take her from us.”

“Then don’t.” Her voice is firm, cutting through the doubt. “Stay sharp. Stay ready.”

“Yeah.” I nod, feeling the pulse of urgency in my veins. “Let’s hope they know what they’re doing.”

“Hope is all we have right now.” She gives a small smile. “And trust.”

We lapse into silence as the night deepens around us, the biting chill seeping through my leather jacket.

The club’s garage is a hulking shadow against the inky darkness.

Light spills out from underneath the metal door, casting long shadows that dance and flicker across the gravelly parking lot.

“Come on.” Siren’s voice cuts through the semi-silence between us.

She tugs at my sleeve, pulling me from my thoughts. “It’s time to head back. They’ll be done soon.”

Nodding, I trail after her, the gravel crunching under my boots.

The words of our earlier conversation spin through my head like a broken record: Time waits for no one.

Nothing in this life is guaranteed. And yet here we are, playing a waiting game that could cost us the woman I care so deeply for.

Back inside the clubhouse, the bar area smells of stale beer mingling with sweat hits me like a punch to the gut.

Some are laughing, and others look more serious. A group of men come out from around the corner and I struggle with understanding how these people can act so okay when one of their own is gone.

Stiletto is somewhere, and it really looks like no one is doing a damn thing about it.

My heart clenches as I throw a look towards Siren, her face set in a grim determination.

She catches my eye and gives me a small nod, her own apprehension reflected in the dark depths of her eyes.

“How about we grab a drink,” she suggests quietly, leading me toward the bar.

I follow without protest, sinking onto one of the bar stools that line the counter.

The burn of the liquor is harsh and uninviting, but it’s a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts churning in my mind.

“Do you think they discussed her?” My voice feels rough around the edges as I swallow down another mouthful of whiskey.

Siren gives me a glance from where she’s sitting next to me. “No doubt,” she murmurs. “But I know better than to press them. We need to wait for them to say something to us.”

I scoff quietly under my breath, spinning the whiskey glass in my hands. “Patience has never been my virtue.”

She sighs deeply, understanding where I’m coming from.

CHAPTER SIX

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