Page 92 of Tag
I stood in the hallway just outside the medical room, watching Lacey sip from a mug of cocoa while she talked to Kaylie. She caught me looking, and for the first time since I met her, she smiled without any edge.
Faron appeared at my side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You did good, little sister.”
I huffed out a laugh. “We did good.”
He shook his head. “No. You walked into the heart of something that could have swallowed you whole… and you walked back out.” His voice softened. “Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
I felt the sting in my eyes before I could stop it. “Guess I’m not so bad at this whole ‘Lightfoot’ thing after all.”
Faron pulled me into a quick hug—brief, solid, exactly the way we did it in our family. “Don’t forget it,” he murmured before heading off to check the perimeter.
When he was gone, Tag found me. He didn’t say a word, just slipped his hand into mine and tugged me toward the back porch.
The night air was cool, scented faintly with sage and the lingering smoke of the mission. We sat on the steps, shoulder to shoulder, watching the stars cut through the darkness.
“You okay?” he asked finally.
I thought about lying. About brushing it off. But I was done hiding.
“I’m… tired,” I admitted. “Not just from tonight. From carrying all of this for so long.”
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “Then let me carry some of it.”
I turned to look at him, and the warmth in his eyes made my chest ache. “You already do.”
He leaned in, his lips finding mine in a kiss that wasn’t about heat this time—it was about grounding. Abouthome.
When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “We got the girls out. We took down The Nest. That’s a win.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. But we’re not done yet.”
His gaze sharpened. “Tessa.”
“Tomorrow,” I said, the steel back in my voice. “We find out exactly what she knows… and we end whatever’s left of Chimera.”
Tag’s smile was small, but there was a promise in it. “I’ll be right there with you.”
We sat there until the night got colder, holding on to the quiet, knowing the storm would start again in the morning.
86
Aponi
The interrogation room was small, concrete, and cold. No windows. Just a single metal table bolted to the floor and two chairs.
Tessa Lawson sat in one of them, wrists cuffed, her posture perfect. Her silver eye tattoo caught the light from the bare bulb above us, and I hated that I could still see the satisfaction in her smile.
She looked like she was waiting for a dinner guest, not a federal debrief.
I stepped inside with Tag at my back, the door shutting with a heavy click.
“You’ve lost,” I said. No preamble. No dance.
Her smirk didn’t falter. “You took down one facility. Burned one file. You think that means the game’s over?”
“I think it means you’re not in control anymore.”
She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she’d almost solved. “Still so sure of yourself. Just like the first time I saw you.”
