Page 10 of They All Own Me

"At least we're honest about who we are," I say finally. "Can't say the same for these suburban hypocrites."

Chapter 6

Tatum

I slouchdown further in my car seat as the three men built like linebackers who entered my house earlier, now exit it. My fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. The woman—the one with legs for days and perfect beach waves—isn't with them. Of course she isn't.

I watch them climb into their black SUV, leaving my dear husband alone with his...esteemed guest.

The dashboard clock reads 10:15 PM. What kind of "diplomats" conduct business this late, then leave one member behind? The answer is obvious now—the kind that aren't diplomats at all.

I drum my fingers against the console, my mind racing with questions about the men who are just sitting in front of my house. Their expensive suits couldn't hide the menace radiating off them. The way they carried themselves—like wolves in designer clothing. Not politicians. Not businessmen. Something else entirely.

Ten minutes tick by on the dashboard clock. Right on schedule, the front door opens. The woman emerges, tugging at the hem of her dress. Her hair's a mess—guess Thomas got handsy.

"Ten minutes seems about right," I mutter, watching her totter down our front walk in those ridiculous heels. "I've had longer dental cleanings."

I laugh to myself. "I hope she has her vibrator in her clutch."

Not that I care about the fact that my husband just fucked this woman. What I do care about is the small device she just pulled from her purse, examining it before tucking it away.

She opens the door and slides into the passenger seat of the SUV, and I readjust myself, grateful for the tinted windows in my car. Through the windshield, I watch as she pulls out her phone, the blue light illuminating her face in the darkness.

The minutes crawl by. I check my own phone—no messages from Thomas asking where I am. Of course not. He's probably straightening his tie, or whatever else needs straightening after his little rendezvous.

"Come on, come on," I whisper, willing them to leave so I can process what I've witnessed.

The light in Thomas's office finally clicks off. A shadow moves past the window—his silhouette unmistakable even from this distance. The SUV's engine suddenly rumbles to life, headlights cutting through the darkness as they pull away from the curb.

I start my engine, keeping my headlights off as I pull away from the curb. Their taillights glow like demon eyes in the distance. Three cars separate us—perfect trailing distance.

"What the hell am I doing?" I mutter, gripping the wheel tighter. "Following potential criminals? Real smart, Tatum."

My pink sundress isn't exactly stealth wear, but neither is their vehicle—it stands out like a shark in a goldfish pond in this neighborhood.

The SUV winds through the streets, taking turns that lead us deeper into the industrial district. My hands are sweaty on the steering wheel as I maintain a safe distance between us.They finally pull into a garage attached to what looks like an abandoned warehouse on Mercer Street.

"Shit." I fumble for my phone, nearly dropping it between the seats. My brother answers on the second ring.

"This better be good, Tate. I'm in the middle of?—"

"James, I need you to run a plate for me." I rattle off the number I memorized, along with a description of the vehicle. "Black Escalade, probably 2023. Heavily tinted windows, chrome trim."

"Hold up." Keys clack in the background. "Since when are you playing Nancy Drew? And why do you need?—"

"Remember when you said you owed me for covering for you at Christmas? Time to pay up, little brother."

He sighs. "Fine. Give me a minute." More typing. "Okay, the vehicle's registered to a shell company. Mercer Holdings LLC. But dig this—they own that warehouse at 1542 Mercer Street."

My stomach drops. "The one they just pulled into."

"They? Who's they? Tatum, what the hell are you mixed up in?"

"The less you know, the better." I watch as the garage door slowly closes. "But I might need another favor soon."

"Jesus Christ. You're gonna get me fired from the IT department."

"Love you too, baby bro." I end the call before he can protest further.

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