Page 44 of Tag
Sable.
She didn’t break stride, didn’t even look rattled by the fact that a two-ton truck was bearing down on her. At the last second, she pivoted, dropped to one knee—gun already rising.
“Tag!”
The shot rang out, slamming into the hood with a burst of steam. Tag kept driving. At twenty feet, she rolled aside, disappearing into a narrow fissure between the rocks.
Tag killed the engine, throwing it into park so abruptly the seatbelt cut across my chest. “Stay with Kaylie,” he ordered, grabbing his rifle.
“Not a chance.”
“Aponi—”
I was already out the door, boots hitting sand, my gun in hand.
His curse followed me into the dark.
The fissure narrowed fast, walls pressing close, the moon overhead just a silver strip. Every step echoed in my bones.
“Don’t do this,” Tag hissed from behind me.
“Too late,” I whispered back.
A scrape of rock ahead. The faint metallic click of a rifle bolt.
She was waiting.
I caught a flash of movement—then the sharp, cold voice that cut through the night:
“You owe me one, Tag. Time to pay up.”
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Tag
Her voice hadn’t changed.
Cold. Sharp. Unshakable.
I stepped into the fissure, rifle low but ready, eyes locked on the shadow ahead.
Sable.
Helmet off, blonde hair darker now, cut close on one side, curling over her shoulder on the other. That same expression—like nothing in the world could touch her unless she wanted it to.
She stood with her rifle angled down, but I knew better. That weapon could be up and on target before my heart took its next beat.
“You picked a hell of a time to come collecting,” I said.
“You think I want the money?” Her gaze flicked past me—to Aponi.
I felt Aponi’s shift behind me, the gun steady in her hands.
Sable smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “She doesn’t even know, does she?”
Aponi’s voice was calm. “Know what?”
That Graves didn’t just put a price on your head for leverage, sweetheart. He did it because you walked away with something that wasn’t yours. And he’s afraid of who you’ll give it to.
