Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Stiletto
The kitchen is a whirlwind of Christmas chaos.
Octavia’s laughter echoes, but I’m drowning in worry.
My fingers drum against the counter, restless.
Miles hasn’t said a word all day. Not one damn word.
Octavia glances my way, her brow furrowed. “Stiletto, you good?”
“Yeah, just peachy,” I lie, plastering on a smile that feels more like a grimace.
“You’re fidgeting like a kid waiting for Santa.” She bumps my shoulder lightly with hers. “What’s eating at you?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
The truth is a boulder lodged in my throat.
What if he left? What if he realized I’m not what he wants?
“Come on, spill it.” Her tone softens, and there’s a spark of concern in her eyes.
I sigh, pushing my hair back. “It’s Miles. I haven’t heard from him all day and that’s not normal.”
“Give him time. He’s tough as nails.” Octavia offers a reassuring smile, but it only tightens the knot in my stomach.
“Yeah, but…what if?—”
“Hey!” She cuts me off, her gaze sharp. “He’s not going anywhere.”
My voice cracks, and I hate how vulnerable I sound. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one waiting for a text that might never come.”
“Just breathe.” She turns back to the kids, her voice lightening. “Look at the chaos they’ve created. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sure. If you love glitter explosions.” I try to focus on the giggles and shrieks around us, but my mind drifts back to Miles.
“Okay, let’s distract you.” Octavia starts handing out cookies, but my heart isn’t in it.
Each crunch of a cookie feels like a ticking clock.
I suck in a sharp breath and ask her what’s right on my mind. “Where do you think they are? You think they’re out looking for The Commander?”
She shrugs, but her eyes dart toward the door. “Maybe.”
I whisper, the question heavy in the air. “Why now? Did something happen?”
Octavia takes a sip of the eggnog in her hand. “What hasn’t happened? You know?”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ward off the chill creeping in. “Fine. I’m sure you understand I just wish he’d text me or something.”
“Think of it this way: maybe he’s planning a special surprise.”
“Great. A surprise breakup sounds lovely,” I retort, rolling my eyes playfully.
Octavia cracks up into a fit of laughter. “Stop it! You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?”
She shoots me a knowing look. “Yes!”
“Okay, okay,” I relent, forcing a grin.
But inside, I’m still spiraling.
“Let’s get these cookies out there before Gears eats them all.”
I spend the next hour shooting the shit with Octavia, trying to keep my mind busy, but it’s no use.
Out of nowhere someone calls my name in a panicked voice. “Stiletto!”
I jolt from my seat, turning to see where it’s coming from.
Tara’s rushing toward me with a wild look in her eyes. “Did you hear?”
I stand up and walk over to her. “About what? Did something happen with the guys?”
Panic floods through me.
Tara clutches something in her hand. “No, no. It has nothing to do with the boys.”
Her hands tremble, and I can see the excitement—and fear—in her eyes.
“What’s that?” I ask, wanting to know what she has in her hands.
Octavia chimes in, her voice rising. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” tears shimmer in Tara’s eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
My jaw drops to the floor. “Are you serious?”
Tara’s hands continue to shake. “Ripper doesn’t know yet. He’s gonna flip the fuck out. We… we weren’t trying. It’s come up out of nowhere.”
Tara grins, her excitement taking my mind off the fact Miles isn’t back yet.
Just then, Ripper barges in, arms laden with boxes and bags from Tart’s bakery.
The scent of frosting and baked goods wafts through the air, sweet and comforting. “Got some goodies for the club over the next couple of days. Kelsey wouldn’t let me get out of there. I’m just—” he starts, but then stops short, his eyes zeroing in on her. “What’s goin’ on? You got a weird look in your eyes.”
Tara begins, but the tension crackles between them. “Ripper, I?—”
His brows knit together, anticipation etched on his face. “You what? Just spit it out, babe.”
Tara nervously licks her lips. “I’m pregnant. That’s why I’ve been feeling weird. Doctors confirmed it with the blood test I got a couple days ago. I took a stick test as well,” she shows him the test in her hand.
Ripper goes silent for a moment before breaking out into a huge smile. He chuckles and yanks Tara into his arms. “I can hardly believe this. You’re absolutely certain?”
“I doubt my blood test and this one are both wrong,” Tara says, a mix of relief and worry in her voice.
His chant of “I’m gonna be a dad” echoes in the room, happiness gleaming in his eyes.
The club erupts into cheers and whistles, celebrating the news with a frenzy.
I walk toward the front doors of the clubhouse when the doors swing open with a bang, and the energy shifts.
Zane strides in like a force of nature, his gaze locking onto Octavia’s.
I hold my breath, heart racing.
Octavia rushes up to him. “How did it go?”
Zane grins, all teeth and triumph. “The Commander is dead!”
Cheers erupt from the crowd.
It’s deafening—whoops and hollers echo off the walls, mingling with the laughter of the kids playing somewhere in the club.
I can’t help but join in, adrenaline pumping through me.
This is what we’ve been waiting for—the end of a nightmare.
Octavia calls out, her hands already busy pouring rum into glasses. “Let’s get those drinks flowing! We have a lot to celebrate!”
I scan the crowd. “Where’s Miles?”
My heart races just thinking about him.
As if I’m summoning him myself, there he is.
Standing tall, his buzz cut sharp under the twinkling lights.
That five o’clock shadow gives him an edge.
His brown eyes catch mine, sparking something electric.
“Hey,” he says, striding over.
I grab his hand, “Hey. I was starting to get worried.”
Miles places his hand against my cheek. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I am more than capable of handling myself. Now, I need a damn drink.”
He wraps an arm around me and we make our way over to the bar, where Bama is manning it, making various drinks for everyone.
Once we have our drinks we weave through the crowd, dodging kids racing by with toy cars and laughter filling the air.
I can hear Gears still bantering with Sydney as they dance, their joy infectious.
Miles smirks at me. It’s one of those smirks where you know he has something up his sleeve.
I arch a single brow. “What is it?”
Miles chuckles lowly, “I might have an early Christmas present for you. One I think you’ll be happy with.”
The truth is I’ve never been one who has looked forward to presents.
My mother never gave them to us for any occasion, so my sister and I stopped expecting them from an early age.
He takes my hand and we head into the kitchen.
Miles goes right up to the freezer and pulls out a box wrapped in candy cane wrapping paper.
“If it’s in the freezer then it must be something good,” I joke.
He licks his lips and smirks, handing the box over to me. “Go ahead, open it.”
I tear back the wrapping paper and use my nail to cut through the tape holding the box together.
The moment I open it, I’m completely taken back.
I glance up into his eyes and he gives me a curt nod. “That used to belong to The Commander, before I took his life.”
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I swallow hard, emotions bubbling up in my chest.
The truth is, I’m trying to hold back tears.
He places his hand on the side of my cheek and stares at me for a few moments. “You don’t have to say anything.”
That’s a lie. I have to say something.
I grab onto his hand and give it a hard squeeze. “Thank you so fucking much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Yes, I do. It’s why I did it. It’s why I killed those fuckers back in New York, too. I’m never gonna let anyone get away with hurting you. You hear me?”
I put the box on the counter and stare deeply into his eyes.
I pull Miles out of the kitchen, toward the back hallway, sincerity spilling from my lips. “Come with me.”
The music thumps like a heartbeat, but all I hear is him.
His brow arches, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. “Where are we going?”
I glance back at him, feeling daring. “Just trust me.”
The warmth of whiskey still tingles through me, fueling my boldness.
“Whatever you say, boss,” he chuckles, following my lead.
We slip into an empty room, the door clicking shut behind us.
It’s dimly lit, a soft glow casting shadows across the walls.
I turn, heart racing, and suddenly, the air between us thickens.
“Song,” His voice is low, gravelly—like a warning, yet it sends shivers down my spine.
I step closer, feeling the heat radiate off him. “Yeah?”
Tension crackles in the air, electric.
He inches forward, his breath mingling with mine. “Is this what you wanted?”
My pulse quickens as I bite my lip, teasing him. “Maybe.”
He smirks, but there’s something deeper in his gaze—a hunger, yearning. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
I lean up, capturing his lips with mine. “Only for you.”
The kiss ignites, fierce and urgent.
His hands grip my waist, pulling me against him.
I can feel every hard muscle, the way he knows exactly how to hold me.
“God, I wasn’t gone long and yet you have no idea how much I missed this,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers into my hair, deepening the kiss.
“Me too,” I whisper against his mouth, breathless.
He trails kisses along my jawline, sending sparks down my body. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“Then eat me up, you big bad wolf.” My breath hitches as his lips travel down my neck, igniting flames everywhere he touches.
“Mmm,” His voice is raw, filled with need.
I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.
He helps me peel it off, revealing toned skin adorned with tattoos.
I trace one with my fingertips, marveling at the art etched on him.
He grins, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Like what you see?”
I push him back against the wall, claiming control. “I might.”
His hands roam over my curves, exploring, savoring.
I laugh, my cheeks flushing.
He leans down, capturing my lips again, kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters.
I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling him lift me effortlessly.
I cling to him, our bodies molded together, heat pooling between us.
His breath is hot against my ear, making me shiver. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.”