Page 79 of They All Own Me

My feet move with a mind of their own. The next thing I know, I've tackled Thomas, knocking the chair over into the floor, and I'm on top of him landing punch after punch to his smug fucking face.

"Mother fucker, I'll kill you…" I feel myself being lifted off the ground against my will.

"Calm down brother," Isaac's voice invades my haze of rage. "We need him alive for the best chance at finding her. That can't happen if you continue to make his face ground beef."

"The stupid fucker deserves it," I shake the hair from my eyes. That will be the last time Thomas fucking Cope ever mentions a word in regards to Tatum. I will make damn sure of it. If I have to go back to prison, so be it.

I see Dom's tall frame saunter over and lean over Thomas. "You better pray we find her before Volkov decides to start mailing parts of her back to you."

He groans. "Why should I help? You're the ones who took her in the first place!"

I grab his collar, pulling him up from the floor and close enough to see the fury in my eyes. "Because unlike you, we actually give a shit about keeping her alive."

I slam his chair back against the wall, his head hitting with a dense thud that makes me satisfied. My forearm presses against his throat. "You're holding something back. Spill it."

"I told you everything!" His voice cracks, eyes darting between Dom and Isaac.

"Bullshit." I press harder, feeling his pulse race beneath my arm. "Your tell is showing - that thing you do with your jaw when you're lying."

Dom steps closer, his presence menacing. "You borrowed from the Russians, the Yakuza, and the Triads. Who else?"

Thomas's adam's apple bobs against my arm. "The Albanians, okay? I borrowed from the Albanians too."

"The fucking Albanians?" Isaac kicks a nearby chair, sending it skittering across the concrete. "Are you trying to get her killed?"

I release Thomas, letting him slump against the wall. My stomach churns as possibilities race through my mind. The Albanians are known for their brutality - and their particular hatred of politicians who cross them.

"How much?" Dom's voice is deadly quiet.

"Ten million." Thomas straightens his tie with shaking hands. "But I was going to pay them back-"

"When?" I grab his collar again. "After they carved her up?"

"I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't think," Isaac cuts in. "You never fucking think about anyone but yourself."

Dom pulls out his phone, already dialing. "We need to move. Now. If it's the Albanians, they don't fuck around."

I run my hands through my hair, mind racing. If they have her... Jesus. The image of her beautiful face twisted in pain makes my blood boil.

"You better pray we find her alive," I tell Thomas, my voice raw with barely contained rage. "Because if anything happens to her, what the Albanians do will look like a day spa compared to what I'll do to you, and that's a fucking promise."

Chapter 41

Isaac

I pace the basement floor,my boots scuffing against the concrete as we wait. Thomas sits bloodied in the chair, his fancy suit now a mess of tears and crimson stains. Dom and Connor flank him, their expressions as hard as mine.

"You better pray they call soon," I growl, checking my watch for the tenth time. "And you better not fuck this up."

Thomas spits blood onto the floor. "Or what? You'll kill me? Then you'll never find her."

My fist connects with his jaw before I can stop myself. "Shut your mouth. You're the reason she's in this mess."

"Easy, Connor Jr." Dom warns, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We need him coherent."

The burner phone on the metal table starts ringing, its harsh tone echoing through the empty space. I grab it and hold it to Thomas's ear while Connor presses a blade against his throat.

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