Page 103 of Spinner's Luck

I nodded, closing the door behind me. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He watched me for a moment, gaze searching, before he gestured to the spot next to him on the bed. “Come here.”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before crossing the room and sitting beside him. The silence between us was thick, but not uncomfortable.

“Today was rough,” he said, leaning back on his hands.

I let out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking my head. “That’s one way to put it.”

He turned to look at me, his expression softening. “You’re blamin’ yourself, aren’t you?”

“No,” I lied, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Lucy,” he said, firmer now. “You can’t carry this. What happened to the prospect—that’s not on you.”

My fingers curled into fists against my thighs. “If I wasn’t here, Fang wouldn’t have come after the club. He wouldn’t have...”

Spinner reached out, covering my hand with his, stopping the downward spiral before it could pull me under. His grip was warm, steady.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t make this about you. Fang’s the one who did this, not you. And Drago wants Zeynep—she’s the main target.”

The warmth of his touch anchored me, made it easier to breathe. For a moment, I let myself believe him. Maybe he was right.

Maybe.

But the guilt still clawed at me, coiling in my gut like a sickness.

I couldn’t stay.

“Spinner,” I said softly, holding his hand tighter and meeting his gaze. “Can we just... not talk about it? Or anything? Not tonight?”

He studied me, his brows drawing together slightly, like he knew exactly what I was asking. A flicker of hesitation. Then he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, reaching for me, pulling me close. “I’ll make you forget everythin’.”

The hours slipped by like a dream, the kind that fades too fast the moment you wake.

We didn’t talk much, just came together, the sounds of our lovemaking filling in what words couldn’t.

For a while, I forgot about Dragon Fire, about Fang, about everything waiting for me outside these walls. All I could feel was Spinner—his touch, his warmth, that something that only he could give me.

But dawn came too soon.

The first slivers of light crept through the window, stretching across the floor like long fingers, reaching, pulling me back to reality.

I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. He lay on his side, face relaxed in sleep, one hand resting in the empty space where I’d been.

My chest tightened.

I pulled on my shoes, the weight of what I was about to do pressing down on me like a physical force.

I couldn’t stay.

I couldn’t be the reason anyone else died.

At the door, I hesitated, looking back at him one last time.

“I love you,” I whispered.

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