Page 30 of Stiletto's Savior

The air rushes from his lungs. He doubles over, groaning in pain.

“Sleep tight,” I mutter, driving my elbow into the back of his neck.

He crumples to the floor like a rag doll.

I can’t waste time. Not now.

“Song!” I shout her real name, my voice echoing off the peeling walls.

No response. Panic grips me tighter.

Footsteps thunder on the second story, above me.

A crash rattles the floorboards.

The chaos outside is a distant roar, but here, it’s just silence.

“Song!” I call again, desperation clawing at my throat.

Where are you?

I throw open a door, splintered wood creaking under the force.

Empty rooms taunt me—nothing but shadows and shattered glass.

I slam it shut and move to the next one, my breaths coming faster.

I hit another door, and this one gives way.

My eyes scan the dim space—junk piles everywhere.

Old furniture, broken lamps, forgotten memories. But no Song.

“Come on!” I mutter, frustration boiling over.

I have to fucking find her.

God, is it too late?

I round a corner, my boots thudding against the wooden floor.

Each step feels heavier, the weight of urgency pressing on my chest.

She needs me. I know she’s in here somewhere. She has to be.

“Song!” I shout again, louder this time.

A faint sound catches my ear—a whimper?

My pulse quickens. It came from behind a locked door at the end of the hall.

I rush forward, adrenaline surging as I spot the deadbolt glinting under the dim light.

“Shit.” I glance around, spotting a random crowbar on the floor.

I position the crowbar at the lock.

It fits perfectly.

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