Page 32 of They All Own Me

I exchange glances with Dom and Isaac.

"That's not really first date conversation material, princess," Dom says, his tone carrying a warning edge.

She rolls her eyes. "Come on. I'm already complicit in whatever this is." She waves her hand at the surveillance equipment. "Besides, Thomas talks about his boarding school days enough for ten people. I'd kill to hear literally any other life story."

"Kill, huh?" Isaac's lip quirks. "Careful there. Some of us actually have."

"Nice." She doesn't even flinch. "Maybe you can give me pointers."

I can't help the laugh that escapes. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Eh, I've been called worse." She stretches, my damn t-shirt riding up. "Just throw me a bone here. I'm bored out of my mind and you three are way more interesting than my usual social circle."

"We're not exactly the kind of guys you want to get to know," I warn her, but my resolve is weakening. There's something magnetic about her complete lack of fear.

"I know, I know - you're dangerous, you're criminals, you've done terrible things… blah blah." She ticks off on her fingers. "Newsflash: I'm married to a man who's probably gotten people killed over shipping manifestos. At least you guys are honest about who you are."

Dom lets out a low whistle. "She's got us there."

"Fine." I lean forward, meeting her eager gaze. "But don't say we didn't warn you."

"That I can handle," she smiles.

"Well, I grew up on the wrong side of everything," I begin, watching Tatum's face for any sign of judgment. "Foster care,juvie, the works. Met Dom inside when I was seventeen - he was doing a stint for grand theft auto."

"Let me guess - you were in for hacking into the school server or something?" She tilts her head, studying me.

"What gave it away?"

"The way you handle tech. Plus, you've got that smartass look about you."

Dom snorts. "She's got your number, Connor."

"Anyway," I continue, shooting Dom a glare, "when we got out, Dom introduced me to Esteban. Turns out my particular skill set was useful for more than just breaking into school computers to change grades."

"Now he's our resident tech genius," Isaac adds. "Though he's handy in a fight too when he's not hiding behind his laptop."

"I prefer to think of it as tactical support," I drawl, making Tatum laugh.

"So what happened to make you start doing this long term?" she asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

"Same thing that happens to most of us - needed the money, needed the family." I shrug, trying to keep my voice neutral. "When you've got nothing, loyalty to someone like Esteban means everything."

"Even if that loyalty means doing terrible things?"

"Especially then." I meet her gaze steadily. "The world's not black and white. Sometimes the worst people wear suits and get elected to office."

"Don't I know it." She looks down at her hands. "At least you chose your cage. I was sold into mine."

The room goes quiet. There's something in her voice that makes my chest tight - a resigned bitterness that doesn't belong in someone so young.

She clears her throat shifts her attention to Isaac, who's been quietly watching our exchange from his perch on the arm of the couch. His tattoo catches the light as he tilts his head.

"What about you, muscles? What's your story?"

"Eh, not much to tell." His Irish accent thickens, something I've noticed happens when he's thinking about the past. "Born in Dublin. My Dad ran guns for the IRA, got himself killed when I was fourteen. My Mum couldn't handle it, started hitting the bottle hard."

"That's why the head tattoo?" Tatum gestures to the intricate Celtic knots winding around his skull. "Rebellion against mom?"

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