9. Rita

9

RITA

" N o, I can't," I forced a smile and pushed away the bottle. Every Dirty Dog wanted to have a drink with me in honor of Papá .

I was moving quickly past buzzed and if I didn't call it quits, I wouldn't be able to remember anything from tonight. Even in my relaxed and numbed out state, I wanted to remember.

Yet, I enjoyed the soft humming under my skin. It was warm and built a wall up around me that even the darkest parts of sadness couldn't penetrate. I fucking loved it.

Sweat rolled down the back of my neck and I twisted my hair up into a messy bun. Not securing it, just holding it in my hand as I tried to cool down. It was a hot summer night and the barrels only added to the stifling air.

Esteban pressed a cool beer bottle against my nape and I gasped.

"It's hot. Why don't we go inside?"

I nodded. That sounded like a fucking fantastic idea. "Let's get out of here."

We took two steps toward the door, but Leo, one of the new guys, called Esteban’s name. He cursed under his breath. "I'll be right back. Wait for me?"

"Hell no. It's hot." My words weren't slurred. That was a win. Yet when I walked inside by myself, I teetered to the right. "Fuck," I muttered to myself.

It wasn't that much cooler. There were a couple old air units, but we didn't use them that often. With such a massive garage space, it was a waste of energy.

And it was gloriously empty. For once, everyone was outside having a hell of a good time, exactly like Papá would want.

Papá. I sucked in a breath.

No. I wouldn't go there. I wanted to enjoy this break from emotions for a little longer.

Passing the stairs up to the rooms, I headed toward the makeshift bar. When Papá had remodeled this place, he had a set of counters added in the back. They were in a separate room and not really a kitchen, although there was a sink.

The only times I could ever remember the Dirty Dogs using them was for potluck cookouts.

I sighed when I flipped on the light. Bottles lined the counter like someone had been collecting them and bringing them in here instead of tossing them in the trash.

At least it was cooler. Someone had turned on the air so instead of Satan’s asshole, this room was set to a hot breeze in hell.

Walking to the sink, I was going to run the cold water to splash over my face. I didn't make it there.

"Rita," Matías said softly behind me.

I jumped, spinning around. "Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!" I pressed a hand against my chest, willing the suddenly out of control muscle to chill out.

"Can we talk?" He watched me with sad, puppy eyes .

"Fuck off." My voice was strong as I flipped him the middle finger.

"You came to bring me back. I'm back. For you." He took a step forward, determination etched into every line of his body.

At some point, he'd lost the suit jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up. The veins in his tanned forearms stood out and my traitorous thoughts were trying to tell me what a good idea it would be to trace them with my tongue.

"I changed my mind." Pulling back my shoulders, I dared him to argue.

Shaking his head slowly, he took yet another step forward. "It doesn't work like that. You can't stop loving someone just like that."

That calm facade the liquor had tricked me with, cracked. Peeling my top lip up, I sneered at him. "It's not just like that, asshole. Didn't you ever hear that you can't truly love someone who doesn't love you?" I made a show of glancing up and down his body. "You said all the right words and did all the wrong things. I finally wisened up to the fact that you don't love me. You never did."

Hell, now that I thought about it, he hadn’t even said the right words. I’d supplied what I’d wanted to believe. I was such a fucking idiot.

I turned back toward the sink, but he caught my arm and twirled me around.

"That's a fucking lie," he seethed as he glared down at me. His black eyebrows knitted over furious amber eyes.

"Oh, it is? You could have fooled me." I shrugged, like it was no big deal. "You only kicked me to the side for your brothers. And the one thing you did after you faked your death? You made another woman's dream come true." My voice cracked, dammit .

The numbness crumbled as I opened myself up to a house full of memories reminding me exactly how I felt when I'd found out he'd tracked down Amorette's sister.

The betrayal, the pain, the worthlessness.

I hadn't mattered to him at all. He'd cared more about making another woman happy than me. I hadn't even warranted a goddamned email.

"Fuck." I dashed my hands across my face, wiping tears that sprang up quickly.

Matías' gaze was glued to them as fury and guilt warred on his face. I shoved him away from me and it caught him off guard enough that he stumbled back a few steps. "Get the fuck away from me. You hear me?" I screamed. "I don't want to fucking see you. I don't want your pity. Your regret, or whatever else you're trying to do here. You should have stayed in Portugal! That's what you wanted right? A life away from me?"

"That's what you think I want?" He yelled, throwing one hand out. "You think I wanted to leave you? I did it to fucking save you! You're the only good thing that ever happened to me!"

"Then why did you find Grace for Amorette?" My voice was a screech, clawing against the sensitivity of my own ears. "Why not call me? Why not take me with you?" I slapped my hand over my mouth.

What was I doing? Even if he'd offered, I wouldn't have gone with him. Would I?

All my dumb ass did was hand him ammunition about how much I loved him. He was a man. He would use this against me somehow.

At one time, I wouldn't have thought Matías would hurt me.

But he'd proved me wrong. He showed me I had to take care of my heart with everyone . My instincts weren't to be trusted.

He fucking broke my trust in myself.

"Rita..." His voice was strangled. "I... fuck ," he sighed. "I didn't think that would hurt you."

"You didn't think I would find out, you mean." I nodded succinctly. "Because I. Don't. Fucking. Matter."

"Rita!" he snapped.

Matías picked me up and set me down on the counter. Bottles went flying as if he'd cleared them with his arm. Maybe he had.

I couldn't look away from his eyes. He was livid and his left eye twitched. I'd never seen him like this.

I'd never seen him anything close to angry with me. I wanted more.

"Admit it. You wanted to fuck Amorette."

"No," he ground out.

"Admit it!" I leaned close to his face so our mouths were only a breath apart. "You wanted to be part of that fucking brotherhood so bad, you wanted her too. I bet you were glad you'd already tossed me aside."

His hand snapped around my throat and he growled. My back hit the wall and he forced his hips between my thighs.

My eyelids fluttered and my breath quickened.

"The only thing I have ever wanted for myself is you! You were mine , Rita! Fucking mine and the only reason I walked away was because I loved you too fucking much! Javier knew that! Why do you think he didn't kill me on the spot?"

"Don't bring my Papá into this!" I kicked out my legs but it was useless. He was too firmly stuck against me.

"It's true and you know it! Javier loved you so much, if I didn't have a hell of a reason for breaking your heart, he would have gutted me. "

The tears fell freely. I didn't try to wipe them away. Let him see how much he hurt me. That felt almost as good as his anger.

"And Amorette? Why find Grace?" I slapped my hand on his chest and shook it. "What did she have that made you want to take care of her so much? What didn't I have?" I ended on a sob, and the next thing I realized, I was pounding on his chest.

"I was fixing what Vicente and Valentina broke! That wasn't for her. That was for my conscience! And yes, for my brothers!"

"You were all I wanted! I hate you!" I cried. "I hate that I love you, you bastard!"

"I love that I love you! It's the one damned thing in my life I don't regret!" He gripped the hair on the back of my head to tip my lips up and he slammed his mouth against mine. Forcing his tongue inside, he fucked my mouth, blitzing my mind with the haze of his kiss.

Matías always kissed me like I was his last meal. The air he needed to breathe.

He pulled back and peppered kisses at the corner of my mouth then along my cheek. "You're mine. You've always been mine. From the first second I laid eyes on you."

His hand smoothed up my thigh. Then he gripped the side of my panties, yanking them down.

Heat curled in my stomach. Lust for Matías was a familiar thing. It was a comfort when everything else in the world was dangerous.

My body recognized him, and I wanted this. I wanted him.

Like I had always wanted him.

I no longer tried to push him away. Instead, I pulled him closer, letting my hands roam over his body. He was more muscular than before. More toned. He fit against me perfectly.

My ass bounced against the counter as he lifted me just enough to clear the panties away completely. He tossed them to the side as he came back to kissing me.

I yanked his shirt apart, sending the buttons flying as I spread my legs wide.

He worked his pants open with one hand. "I need you. I need you so fucking much." He dipped closer for another wet kiss, biting my bottom lip as he slid the thick head of his cock up my slit.

I groaned and dropped my head back. This was what I missed. This connection with him. This shared need.

It had always been different with Matías. It was the one time he seemed to break apart, to drop the mask. Sometimes I'd lie to myself and pretend I was the only one who saw him this way. That he really was all mine.

Shoving my hands inside his shirt, I closed my eyes at the feel of his hot skin.

This was real. He was here with me.

Matías knocked my hands away to yank the top of my dress down, freeing my tits and trapping my arms. He dipped his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth as he thrust inside.

Tossing my head back, I yelled.

He released my nipple with a pop. "I love your tits. Your ass. I swear, if I believed in such things, I'd think you were made for me. Everything I love about a woman wrapped up into one package. You." Moving to the other breast, he left suck marks across my sensitive skin before raising back up to look me in the eyes.

His hips pistoned against mine, our skin slapping together .

"You remember what you said to me in the club?" he panted, dropping his head so his lips brushed mine.

I groaned as his change in angle hit just the right spot. "No," I breathed. I tried to move my arms, but he tightened his hold on my dress.

He smiled against my lips and tingles shot from my core. I was close. So fucking close.

"You said I smelled like yours." He chuckled under his breath before grunting, his hips crashing harder.

Ignoring his words, I tried again to break his hold. "I want to touch you," I whined.

"Not this time. Next." He used his arms to jerk me forward, meeting him thrust for thrust. The motion was just enough to rub against my clit. The sparks turned painful as they spread across my lower stomach, and I let out a soft cry as I started to come.

"Ah, fuck," he grunted, thrusting even faster. Matías let go of my dress, and I could finally move my arms as he wrapped me up in a tight hug. Resting his head on my shoulder, he groaned as he shivered.

My heart raced and the sweat on my skin started to cool. Everything in the room became stark in the harsh fluorescent lights overhead.

"I love you, Rita. I love you," he whispered against my neck. "I'm sorry I never told you before. It will be different now."

Whatever was left of my buzz evaporated.

It was all different now. We were at Papá's funeral.

Oh, God. "Get off me." I shoved him away from me, then hopped down. "I can't believe I just did that." I searched the floor for my panties and when I saw them discarded on the dirty concrete, I snatched them up.

I couldn't put them back on. But the wetness between my legs was a reminder I didn't want. I tossed them in the trash and grabbed a paper towel, frantically cleaning myself up.

"What's wrong?" Matías tried to touch me but I twisted my shoulders to avoid him.

"Get the fuck away." I couldn't even look at him. "I can't..." I struggled to breathe. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Rita," he said in a tense voice.

"Stop! Don't you get it! You're the reason I missed–" I couldn't stay here. Chucking the paper towels in the trash too, I fled the back room.

His footsteps followed behind me, so I picked up my pace. If I could make it outside, the Dirty Dogs would help keep him away. Even the ones who liked him. They loved me enough to protect me against him.

I burst through the doors, and instead of getting a wash of calm, I was faced with out of control shouting.

Up ahead, Esteban pushed through the crowd, heading for the source of the commotion.

I ran after him. The Dirty Dogs were out of control, but I couldn't make sense of what anyone was saying.

Ricco saw me and started shoving men out of the way so I could get through. Together we made it to the front.

At the gate to the property was a small group of bikers. Their weapons were drawn and pointed at the Dirty Dogs.

On the ground at their feet was a body, a dark pool of blood spreading underneath him.

Next to him, flowers scattered the ground.

"What's going on here?" Esteban shouted at the Dirty Dogs. Leo and Damen were huddled together, squaring off with the bikers.

"I just got a call that these pendejos are working the corners in our territory. Then these guys show up with a flower arrangement." Leo spat on the ground, practically vibrating from rage.

"We were coming to pay our respects." One of the men called as he reached down to feel for a pulse. Shaking his head, he stood up just as another bike roared around the corner.

The newest man came to a stop, pulling off his helmet in jerky motions and shoved it at one of his guys as he crouched down. His red hair was pale orange under the lights from the compound. When he stood up, he motioned for his men to pick up their friend.

He searched the Dirty Dogs before his gaze landed on Esteban.

Did they know each other?

Then it clicked. This was the trouble Papá mentioned. I wanted to slap my forehead. How had I forgotten about this?

"I tried to do this the nice way. But if he dies…" He pointed back at the man now cradled in his friend's arms. "All bets are off. This won't be a friendly negotiation for business you no longer do. This will be war."

The Dirty Dogs called out obscenities and insults. Most were too drunk to realize what kind of situation this was.

The bikers ignored it, maybe realizing that tonight wasn't the time, or maybe just afraid for their friend. In seconds, they were gone.

I wasn't a doctor, but I'd seen enough gunshot wounds. There was next to zero chance his friend would make it.

The Dirty Dogs didn't even have a president to lead us and we already had a war on our doorstep.