Page 63 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T he safehouse was silent except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant hiss of the AC. It should have felt safe. It didn’t.

We’d been back less than an hour, long enough for Gideon to sweep the perimeter twice and for Tag to strip off his tactical vest, drop it on the table, and lean against the wall like he could keep the whole place from falling in by sheer will.

My hands wouldn’t stop trembling—not from fear, but from the sharp, cold anger that had settled in my chest.

Faron came in from the back door, rifle slung over one shoulder. “Perimeter’s clear. Whoever’s still breathing out there isn’t dumb enough to follow us here.”

“Graves was willing to throw a full team at us in the middle of nowhere,” Tag said, eyes on me instead of Gideon. “And he didn’t care about casualties. He just wanted you.”

The words felt heavy, like they should mean something I couldn’t quite see. “You think he’s planning to use me as leverage?”

Tag shook his head. “No. Graves doesn’t bargain. He eliminates. Which means there’s something you have that he needs.”

“I don’t—” I stopped, because the lie was too easy. “There’s nothing.”

Tag’s expression told me he didn’t believe that for a second.

Callahan, still tapping away on her laptop, broke the silence. “I finished parsing the rest of the drive data. Graves has been tracking you for months, Aponi. Every move. Every address. Your old cases, your contacts, even your family history.”

My pulse thudded in my ears. “Why?”

“Because somewhere in your past,” she said, “is something he can’t get without you.”

I sank into a chair, my mind flashing through years of cases, old evidence files, and people I’d tried to forget. One name surfaced, unbidden, and my gut turned to stone.

Tag crouched in front of me, his voice low. “You think of something?”

I met his eyes. “If I’m right… then Graves doesn’t just want me alive. He wants me to lead him straight to the only thing that can burn his whole operation to the ground.”