Page 81 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T ag didn’t say much when he got back.

Whatever happened out there had him wound tight, tighter than usual.

He just sat there for a moment, jaw working like he was chewing over the words he didn’t want to say.

“What is it?” I asked quietly.

He reached into his vest and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “He sent you a message.”

The weight of it was heavier than the paper should have allowed. I took it, unfolded it—and froze.

You can’t keep her forever.

I read it twice, the edges of my vision going sharp. “He’s still trying to get to me.”

“He’s not just trying,” Tag said. His voice was low, even, but I heard the steel under it. “He’s promising.”

I looked up at him. “Then we take him down before he gets the chance.”

His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment neither of us moved. “That’s not how I work, Aponi. I don’t rush in without knowing the ground.”

“And waiting gives him time to make his next move,” I countered.

The silence stretched, taut as a tripwire. Then he reached over, his hand covering mine on the paper. “You’re not wrong. But I’m not losing you to a gamble.”

I swallowed, my voice quieter now. “You won’t lose me. Not if we move first.”

Something in his expression shifted—not quite agreement, not quite refusal. But I could see it in his eyes… he was already considering it.

From the hallway, Gideon’s voice broke the moment. “We’ve got chatter on Graves’ crew. You’ll want to hear this.”

Tag’s hand lingered on mine for one more second before he let go. “Come on. Let’s see where he’s bleeding.”

We left the note on the table, but I felt every word of it in my bones. Graves was coming.

The only question was—would we be ready?

How the hell was he doing this from jail?