He was tempted to tell her 'Number Two' but that wasn't his name. That was a title. Mom had given him his name, and he was proud of it. "Diego," he offered, though his voice carried a harsh tone. It wasn't directed at her, but was a reflection of the general frustration he felt at the moment.
He stalked toward the tree, easily reclaiming the blade from the truck. He threw it so it twirled in the air and he caught it effortlessly. "Who the hell are you?" he asked. He'd given his name, it seemed only fair she give hers in return.