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Abe lifted his hand from Dom’s arm and brushed away a tear that had escaped from beneath his eyelid and was streaking down Dom’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I know what an amazing man you are. Your past isn’t going to change that.”
Dom leaned his head into Abe’s hand, not wanting to lose that contact, but he was just getting started.
“In California, James and I ran cons for my dad. We were living on the streets. It was all we knew. Mostly, it was petty theft. We told ourselves that no one was really getting hurt. It was just a game.” Dom stopped and took a deep breath. “It was often just the two of us, so we developed our cipher language of the stick men. We got the idea from a TV show. But that way, if we were on the run and separated, we could leave each other quick messages that no one else could understand.”
“When did things go wrong?” Royce asked when the silence stretched.
“We were about seventeen or eighteen. James wasn’t happy with the small scores anymore. He started getting more erratic. He wanted to carry a gun and go for bigger-ticket items. Especially jewels. They were easy to hide and transport. He also knew a couple of people who were pretty good fences. But jobs like that meant more danger. People were going to get hurt. Get killed. I wanted out. Told him as much.” Dom dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbed. “He wouldn’t listen. Kept saying that we were one person. That there was no out. That we were going to run that fucking town and people would fear him.”
“He’s insane,” Quinn murmured in horror.
Dom choked out a weak laugh and chanced a look over at the young man. “Definitely. I was scared. I didn’t think he’d kill me, but there was no way he was going to let me escape. So, when he was out on a job, I set fire to the house we were hiding out in. Really torched the place.” Dom chanced a weak smile up at Rowe. “I feel like you would have been proud of me.”
Rowe nodded. “No doubt.”
“I faked my death and immediately got the hell out of California. I bounced around the country for the first couple of years. Dyed my hair and changed my name. Took a lot of shit jobs, but they were all honest.” He dared to meet Abe’s eyes for the first time since he’d started talking. “I swear, since I left California, I’ve not stolen one cent from another person. I’ve begged on the streets when I was desperate. I’ve worked jobs under the table, but those jobs were legal—as busboys and janitors and whatever the fuck else I could find.”
Abe ran his fingers over the side of Dom’s face again, just beside the bandage covering the scar, as he met Dom’s gaze. “You’re a good man.”
“No, I’m not. I didn’t start out as one, and I hate to admit it, but I am damn good at lying. Damn good. But I have never once lied to you, Abe Stephens. Never.” He broke off his gaze and swallowed hard past the lump in his throat threatening to choke off his words. “I started life as a con artist, and I feel like I never really left that shit behind because I never admitted to anyone where I came from. Rowe knew, but only because he dug up the truth. I didn’t willingly tell him. I was ashamed of it all. Horrified. Ward Security is the only good thing I’ve done with my life. It’s been my chance to make it up to the world for being such a horrible shit for so many years.”
“Dammit, Dom!” Rowe swore, pushing away from his desk to stand over him. “You need to get it through your head that you’ve paid your penance in this lifetime.” Reaching out, he tapped his scarred cheek with one knuckle. “Dying on a job ain’t gonna help anyone or clear your slate. It’s already clear.”
“When shit went down with my family, did you turn your back on me because of my shitty past?” Royce demanded.
Dom’s head immediately popped up. “Fuck no. But that was different—”
“Bullshit!” he snapped with disgust. “You’ve always got my back. You stepped up when I needed you. You always have. Your past doesn’t change shit with me. Just tell me what you want me to do.” Royce straightened from where he was leaning against the wall and extended his hand to Dom.
He couldn’t help but blink at Royce’s rough hand for a second before he grabbed it. Royce jerked him to his feet and pulled him into a tight hug, which surprised the hell out of him. Royce was not a physical, touchy-feely kind of guy in any way. He was a blunt, grunting asshole on the best of days. His support brought tears back to Dom’s eyes as he hugged his friend back.
