Page 45 of Tag
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aponi said, though I caught the tiniest hesitation.
Sable’s smirk deepened. “Oh, you do. And here’s the part you’ll like, Tag—I don’t have to kill you to finish my job. I just have to kill her.”
I moved without thinking, sliding a half step to put myself between them. “That’s not happening.”
Sable tilted her head, assessing me like a puzzle she’d already solved. “Still the hero. Still predictable. That’s why I could take you down in ten moves, easy.”
“Try it,” I said, rifle coming up.
For a long second, the air didn’t move. Even the wind outside the fissure seemed to hold its breath.
Then Sable eased her rifle onto her shoulder. “Not today. I’ve got a message to deliver first. Give it up, or everyone you love will be dead.
She backed toward the shadows, boots crunching on stone, and vanished into the dark like smoke.
The moment she was gone, Aponi let out a slow breath.
I turned on her. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?”
“You hesitated. When she said you didn’t know what she was talking about—”
“I don’t owe you explanations, Tag,” she snapped. “Not now.”
“The hell you don’t.” I stepped closer, the space between us tight enough I could feel her breath. “If she’s coming for you, I need to know why.”
Her eyes locked with mine, hard and unblinking. “And if I tell you, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”
35
Aponi
The walk back to the truck was silent, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that fades.
It was thick.
Buzzing.
Every step felt like it pulled us tighter, wound the wire a little more until something had to snap.
Kaylie’s worried eyes flicked between us when we climbed in, but Tag didn’t say a word. He just slammed the door, started the engine, and pointed us back toward the desert track.
I stared out my window, arms folded tight, refusing to be the one who spoke first.
It lasted all of forty-five seconds.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he bit out.
I kept my eyes on the darkness outside. “It’s not relevant.”
“Not relevant?” His voice cracked sharply in the small cab. “Sable just told me Graves wants you dead for more than leverage. That’s damn relevant.”
“I can handle it.”
“That’s not the point!”
He jerked the truck to a stop, throwing us into the stillness. Dust curled past the broken windows, the engine ticking as it cooled. Then he turned toward me, his jaw set hard.
