Page 40 of They All Own Me

Chapter 22

Isaac

I rollmy shoulders as we pull into the driveway, dried blood cracking on my knuckles. "Should we clean up first?"

"Nah." Dom shakes his head, droplets of someone else's blood still clinging to his beard. "She needs to understand what she's dealing with."

"You sure that's wise?" Connor asks from the backseat. "Might be the straw that breaks the camel's back and sends her running for the hills."

I snort. "I doubt it. If she was gonna run, she would've done it by now."

"Exactly." Dom kills the engine. "Better she knows now what this life really means. No point sugar-coating it."

The metallic smell of blood fills my nostrils as we head toward the front door. My shirt is stiff with it, dark stains turning the fabric nearly black in places. The evening air feels cool against my skin where sweat and blood have dried.

"Plus," I add, "she's not exactly the delicate flower everyone thinks she is."

Connor chuckles. "True. Still, seeing us like this... different story."

"Only one way to find out," Dom says, reaching for the door handle.

I crack my neck, feeling the tension from today's work. "If she can't handle it, better to know now before we're in too deep with this plan."

The aroma of garlic and herbs hits me as we push through the door. My boots leave prints on the freshly mopped floor, but the kitchen sounds draw me forward like a siren's call.

"Honey, we’re home," Connor mutters behind me.

Tatum stands at the stove, hair piled messily on top of her head, still wearing those sinful yoga pants. She spins around at our entrance, wooden spoon in hand, and freezes.

I expect a scream, maybe some hysterics when she sees us covered in blood. Instead, her eyes darken as they trail over my blood-stained shirt, lingering on my bruised knuckles. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

"Rough day at the office?" She quirks an eyebrow, voice husky.

"You could say that." Dom's deep chuckle fills the kitchen.

"Well, I hope you've worked up an appetite, dinner's almost ready." She turns back to the stove, stirring whatever's in that pot. "Though you boys might want to clean up first. You'll stain the chairs I just steamed cleaned earlier."

"We look like we just walked out of a fucking horror movie and you're worried about upholstery?" I ask.

She spins back around, wooden spoon aimed in my direction. "I spent too damn long preconditioning those bitches. Try me."

Connor barks out a laugh. "Aren't you going to ask whose blood it is?"

"Would you tell me if I did?" She throws a knowing look over her shoulder, those green eyes sparkling with something that makes my pulse quicken.

"Probably not," I admit, my accent thicker than usual.

"Then I won't waste my breath." She waves the spoon at us. "Now go shower. I made chicken marsala and it'll be ready in twenty."

I share a look with Dom. This woman continues to surprise us. Where Thomas sees a fragile being, I'm starting to see something far more dangerous.

I head upstairs, following Connor and Dom to our respective rooms. Connor pauses at his door, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Did you see that look in her eyes?" He shakes his head, bewildered. "When she saw us like this?"

"Aye." I lean against my doorframe. "Not exactly the reaction we were expecting was it?"

"She looked..." Connor's voice drops lower. "Fuck, she looked turned on."

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