Page 23 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

M alik bled slowly—enough to weaken him, not enough to kill him.

That was intentional.

We had him cuffed to a rusted pipe inside the warehouse, surrounded by crates full of illegal weapons, two cartel buyers zip-tied and groaning in the corner, and the Golden Team cleaning up the rest outside.

Tag stood beside me, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“You want to do the honors?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

I stepped forward, crouched in front of Malik, and let him get a good look at my face.

“You’re not as dead as everyone thought,” I said.

His grin was lopsided. Blood-stained. “Neither are you, Detective.”

I didn’t blink. “Give me the name.”

He chuckled. “You think this is about girls and guns? That was just a side hustle. The real operation… that’s higher than you’ll ever reach.”

I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward until our faces were inches apart.

“The name,” I growled.

He looked past me. At Tag.

Then back at me. “You want the truth?”

“I’m not leaving without it.”

His smile disappeared. “There’s a woman. East side. She runs a shelter. Real sweet, does a lot of interviews. People like her.”

I went cold. My grip tightened. “Who?”

“She used to go by Feather. But she changed it. You might know her as your mother.”

The world tilted.

No.

No, it couldn’t—

“She’s not part of this, you liar. My mother is dead.” I whispered.

Malik leaned in, voice ragged. “She’s not just part of it. She helped fund it.”

Something in my chest cracked open and bled.

I stood so fast I nearly staggered.

Tag caught me, steadying me with both hands.

“Aponi,” he said softly, eyes locked on mine. “We don’t know if he’s telling the truth.”

“He is,” I choked out.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because she left when I was thirteen. And I never knew why. I tried to convince myself that she died.” I pulled in a shaky breath. “She didn’t just leave me… she left to build this. She left me for money. It was that boyfriend she had.”

Tag’s voice was low and calm. “Then we find her. And we get answers.”

I shook my head, tears burning my throat. “This was never just about the missing girls. This whole time… it was about me.”

He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “No. This is about stopping the people who hurt them. And we’re not done.”

I nodded slowly, my hands gripping the front of his jacket like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

“Let’s go,” I whispered.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t run from the truth.

I walked straight into it—Tag at my side.