Page 12 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T he sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was turning that bruised purple color that always made my chest tighten. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it had something to do with my Indian heritage. Who knows.

It felt like something bad was about to happen.

Maybe it already had.

Tag stood across the room loading mags like his hands were made of stone—methodical, silent, relentless.

My vest sat on the table, waiting. So did my badge. But tonight, that badge didn’t mean a damn thing.

Tonight, I wasn’t a cop.

I was a woman who’d seen too many girls disappear—and this time, I knew exactly where they were.

I checked my sidearm, then the knife in my boot. My hands were steady. My heart wasn’t.

Tag’s voice cut through the quiet. “There’s a back entrance we missed last night. Hidden behind a pile of old tires. Blueprints show it leads to the lower level. Probably how they’re moving the girls without being seen.”

“Any idea how many men are inside?”

“Gideon says four, maybe five. Two with military training. The others hired muscle. No cameras, but trip wires in the south hallway. We’ll disable them from the roof access before we enter.”

I nodded, committing it to memory. “And Kaylie?”

“She’s alive,” he said. “One of Gideon’s informants saw her in a room near the north wall. They’re watching her.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat.

He moved toward me then—slow, careful, like I might break if he came too close.

“I need you to promise something,” he said.

I looked up. “What?”

“If things go sideways in there, you don’t try to be a hero.”

My brow lifted. “That’s rich coming from a guy who literally stepped between me and a gang leader last year.”

He didn’t smile. Just stared at me with those storm-gray eyes that saw way too much.

“I mean it, Aponi. I’m not losing you tonight.”

Something in me cracked open.

Not because I needed saving.

But because someone finally gave a damn whether I walked out alive.

“I’m not planning on dying,” I said. “And I’m not planning on letting anyone else die, either.”

He stepped in closer, his voice low. “I know you’re strong. I know you’ve survived more than most people could handle. But this isn’t just your fight anymore.”

He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“It’s ours.”

The air shifted.

So did something inside me.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

Because for once, I wasn’t alone.

We stood like that for one breath… two…

Then his phone buzzed.

He checked the screen. “Gideon’s team is in place.”

I slipped my vest on, tightening the straps.

“You ready?” I asked.

He grabbed his weapon, his eyes locked on mine.

“Born ready.”