Page 67 of Tag
Now it was fists.
Graves swung hard, catching Tag across the jaw with a blow that echoed in the small space. Tag answered with a brutal punch to the ribs that made Graves grunt and double over—onlyfor Graves to grab a handful of Tag’s vest and try to throw him off balance.
I darted from cover, kicking Graves in the knee hard enough to make him stagger. Tag used the opening, slamming him into the rock again. Dust rained down from the ceiling, the whole chamber groaning like it didn’t like this fight any more than I did.
Graves snarled, his hand flashing toward a knife strapped to his belt. Tag caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting until the blade clattered to the floor.
“You’re done,” Tag growled, his voice low, lethal.
Graves just smiled through bloodied teeth. “Not yet.”
He drove his shoulder into Tag’s chest, shoving him back a step, and in that heartbeat, his other hand darted into his jacket. My stomach dropped.
“Tag!”
I grabbed the knife from the floor and launched myself forward just as Graves yanked a small black detonator into view. His thumb was halfway down when I slammed the blade into the meat of his forearm.
He roared, the detonator falling to the dirt. Tag kicked it away and drove Graves down hard, pinning him with a knee to the chest and his forearm across his throat.
“Over,” Tag said again, voice like stone.
This time, Graves didn’t smile.
61
Tag
By the time Gideon, Faron, and Callahan reached us, Graves was facedown in the dirt, his wrists bound behind him with zip ties, his breathing ragged.
Aponi stood a few feet away, her back to the wall, hands on her knees as she pulled in air like she’d run a marathon. Her hair was dusted white from the mine, her cheeks streaked with grime, but her eyes were steady when they met mine.
“You okay?” I asked.
She straightened slowly, nodding. “Better than him.”
Graves didn’t say a word, didn’t look at either of us. His silence wasn’t relief or defeat—it was calculation, the kind that made my instincts itch.
“Let’s move,” Gideon said, already pulling him to his feet. “I want him on the chopper before his people realize we’ve got him.”
The walk out felt longer than it should have, the air growing cleaner with every step until the pale light of dawn broke over the jagged mouth of the mine. The wind hit my face, cool and sharp, and for the first time in hours, I let my shoulders ease.
Aponi came up beside me, her arm brushing mine. “You kept your promise,” she said quietly.
“I told you nothing would happen to you.”
She gave me a small smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Graves isn’t finished, Tag. You saw it too.”
I didn’t answer because she was right.
At the SUV, Callahan loaded the evidence—the detonator, Graves’ weapons—into a secure case. The second the lid clicked shut, Graves finally spoke.
“You think you’ve won,” he rasped, his voice raw but steady. “But while you were chasing me, I set something else in motion.”
Gideon shoved him into the vehicle before he could say more, but the words lingered in the air like smoke.
I glanced at Aponi. “We’ll deal with it.”
She nodded, but I saw the tension in her jaw. This was a win, sure—but not the end. Not yet.
