22. Rita

22

RITA

A s soon as my eyes opened, a new fire had been lit inside me.

I stretched my arms over my head with a groan, then I rolled out of Matías' bed to find my clothes. Matías and Esteban were already gone.

My clothes were probably still in the living room where I'd dropped them. After having the strongest orgasm of my life, only barely overshadowing the one Esteban had given me the day before, I'd been so drained I'd passed out right there on Matías.

One of them, Matías probably, carried me to his bedroom. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night with both men pressed up against me. Feeling the safest since Papá died, hell, since the brothers fought to take over the Institution, I'd closed my eyes and drifted back off into a dreamless, heavy sleep.

I could go to the living room and get my clothes, but I cringed at putting on a dirty dress that I'd sweated to death in. Instead I rummaged through Matías' dresser drawers.

Was this Matías' room? It was decorated exactly like the rest of the house in dark, sterile furniture. There were no personal items, no pictures. Nothing to say this was his private space.

When we dated in the past, I had never been allowed to visit his house. It had been too dangerous. So now, seeing this glimpse of who he was, it was like crack.

Each drawer was full of clothes. They were arranged so neatly by article and color. Who the fuck did this? He must have housekeepers. The Matías I knew wasn't anal about useless shit.

I barked out a laugh. Andre probably had the cleaning service do it. He seemed like a man who color coded his briefs. I'd have to ask Amorette.

Plucking out a T-shirt, I slipped it on and padded through the house. My steps echoed back to me. Andre must have a crew come in regularly. Stopping by an art piece, I swiped my finger along the top of the frame. Dust free.

That was as thoughtful as it was eerie. It was like Andre and the others kept this place as a shrine to the brother they treated like shit.

I liked them, and I loved Amorette, but I couldn't make myself forget how Matías had always yearned to be part of their band of brothers. He'd never told me that, but I'd been at functions over the years and saw how he stared at them. Shaking my head, I kept moving.

This new energy was so refreshing compared to the morbid and sad shit that had been plaguing me for weeks. I wanted to embrace the hell out of it.

Both men were in the kitchen. Matías held a steaming cup of coffee to his lips as he blew on it while Esteban had his own mug on the counter in front of him.

Somewhere, Esteban had lost his shirt, and every single one of his well-defined abs were on display. I ached to run my hands down his stomach.

They turned to me, and as soon as their gazes focused on my body, all the wanton desire from the previous night resurfaced. I shifted on my feet at the reminder of both their hands on my body. It had been a transcendent experience I couldn't wait to repeat.

So much bad shit had happened. My head had been reeling. Yet, somehow, last night it all came to a head. I didn't even know how it happened.

But it had been so fucking therapeutic.

The only plausible reason for my lapse in thinking was that Matías saved Esteban. For me. Because I didn't want him to die even though Esteban had been a shithead to Matías.

Matías still pushed him out of the line of fire, getting injured himself. That was the biggest gesture Matías could ever make to get back in my good graces.

"You look very determined today," Matías said by way of a greeting. A few soft curls fell over his forehead. He’d always had buzzed hair before.

Forgetting about the desire, I walked to the island and pressed my palms flat against the granite countertops.

I stared both men in the eyes. "We need to figure out who the rat is."

In all of Dirty Dog history, nothing like this had ever happened before. The thought that someone was actively leaking information to an enemy burned like poison in the back of my throat.

How fucking dare they do this to our gang. To Papá's memory.

He loved everyone of his men, even the assholes. For them to betray us like this.. .

I curled my fingers against the counter.

Esteban glanced at Matías before bringing his attention back to me. "I don't think not finding the rat was even an option."

Matías chuckled, and for a second I was thrown. When did these men become so friendly?

Leaning toward me, Matías' smile died. "What do you want to do about it Rita?" His voice was low and seemed to have a line directly to my core.

I sucked in a long breath, gathering my thoughts as I closed my eyes. Thinking was easier when he or Esteban weren't distracting me with their attention.

"A rat in the Dirty Dogs means that someone doesn't like who our potential leaders are." I reasoned it out.

"That's not true." Matías shook his head. “It could be Ricco. It could be Joel. Just because someone's giving information to the enemy does not mean it's not one of the leaders in power. Let's say for example, Joel wants to take Dirty Dogs for himself. He could be using this new club to take you off of the playing board."

Fuck, he was right.

"Okay, for Matthews to know that you requested to be a Dirty Dog, the rat has to be someone who was at the compound yesterday morning." I tried again.

Matías shook his head again. "Not necessarily. It took us at least thirty minutes to drive to the Chinese restaurant. Anyone could've called their friends, who could've called Matthews."

"Dammit, man. You're bursting all of Rita's bubbles." Esteban pushed away from the island to lean against the back counter.

"Sorry," Matías said. "Rita needs to be prepared for any situation. "

"You're right." I hated how his corrections cut at my ego, yet I needed the reality checks. "Let's start with who was at the compound yesterday morning. We had Ricco, Joel, and about three-quarters of the Dirty Dogs. The chances are high that the rat is one of those men, but we won't rule anyone out. How the fuck are we supposed to find out who the rat is?" I rubbed my forehead, racking my brain for a solution.

How did you find a rat?

"You set a trap." Matías set his cup down and tapped his fingers on the counter.

He glanced at his coffee, and then he slid it across to me before turning to make a new cup for himself.

Esteban and I exchanged glances before we both got lost in watching Matías move around his kitchen with such ease.

I'd never seen Matías do anything so comfortably in all the years I'd known him. Part of me was happy to see him like this. The other part, the bitter part, was sad that I never got to see the real him. He apparently never felt comfortable enough with me and that fucking hurt.

Nope, I needed to get rid of those toxic thoughts.

"A trap," I restated to myself.

"Has Ricco or Joel tried to contact you?" Esteban reached out and touched my hand.

I flipped my hand and laced our fingers together. He gave my fingers a squeeze.

The coffee in front of me smelled so good, yet I just couldn't bring myself to sip it. Not while all of these thoughts were raging inside my head.

"I haven't checked my phone."

Matías came back with his new cup, but he glanced at my untouched one on the counter. "Do you want the fresh coffee?" he asked .

"No. I'm going to drink it in a minute, I just–I need to get my thoughts together."

I went to grab my phone from the living room. The screen lit up with two dozen missed calls and texts. Not only from Ricco and Joel, but so many other members in the Dirty Dogs.

Shit, I needed to go through the messages, but we need to plan more.

"Here." Esteban held out his hand. "I'll go through them."

I slid my phone over to him.

"Rita," Matías called my name. "I think the best thing you can do right now is go back to the compound. You have to tell them what happened and watch their cues. The very best tells are in the body language." He dropped his gaze to the counter as if thinking. "I'm well liked in the Dirty Dogs, and I know Esteban is too, but I don't trust anyone enough to put your life in their hands by not seeing their reactions for ourselves."

"Nothing here," Esteban chimed in. "Only people asking about what happened and wanting to know why you didn't come back. Joel is threatening to ride out on the new club," he added, his voice filled with irritation as he pushed the phone toward me.

"We can't let that happen." What had gotten into Joel? He'd been a level man. He helped keep some of the younger guys in line. Where did this sudden thirst for violence come from?

Could he be the one who was informing Matthews?

A scream bubbled up the back of my throat. I hated how I was now suspicious of everyone who had been there for me my entire life.

"It doesn't look like any of the men you picked to join us yesterday called it in." Matías' words penetrated my deep thoughts.

Calm descended, clearing away the buzz that had settled inside me. I knew exactly what we had to do. Matías was right. We needed to fill the Dirty Dogs in on Rob’s betrayal and watch every single person and their reaction.

"Matías, do you think your brothers' men would come with us? Not inside the compound, but just be close by? In case anything happens."

He nodded. "Absolutely."

"Then let's head to the compound," I sighed. "Esteban, will you send a text message in the group thread and let them know there’s an emergency meeting in..." I tapped on my phone screen to check the time. "Twenty minutes."

I went to Matías' master bathroom to get ready. Today wasn't a day where I could put on my armor, but I pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail. What the hell was I going to wear? Doing the walk of shame back to the compound just gave off the wrong vibe.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Matías stepped in holding a hanger and dress in his hand.

"What's that?" I turned around.

He ran his fingers down the front of a black dress. It would have been business appropriate if it wasn't for the shape and stretchy material. It was as form-fitting as anything in my closet.

A soft smile curled his lips as he gazed from the dress to me. "Just because you never came here before didn't mean I didn't want you to. I saw you went through my drawers, but you must not have stepped into the closet. There's a small section with clothes, the designers you like, your favorite cuts, all in your size."

I stopped breathing. Then I pressed my fingertips to my lips as tears welled in my eyes. That was all I'd ever wanted. To be part of his life.

It wasn’t that he bought me clothes, it was that he paid attention to what I liked. He went out of his way to do this for me, even if he couldn’t give it to me then.

Where saving Esteban had been a grand gesture, the clothes were a small one. Combined, I didn’t feel like loving him was a mistake anymore.

"Do you not like it?" His brows furrowed as he glanced at the dress.

"No, I love it," I choked out.

I laughed as he thrust it toward me, still unsure. Wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, I pulled him down for a kiss. His lips were firm and warm against mine. The moment was bittersweet as he lingered.

Then I pulled back. "I'll get dressed and meet you in the living room."

Ducking out of the bathroom, he left me alone. Probably to get ready in one of his other bathrooms. From the size of this place, I imagined he had at least five to spare.

Quicker than I've ever gotten ready, I put on the dress, brushed my teeth, and left the bedroom. I didn't look anything like my usual badass self, but I was serious, stern, and had zero fucks to give.

Perfect.

Esteban whistled as I came down the stairs. Both men stood side-by-side, wearing matching tees and jeans.

It was so strange.

Esteban was handsome. He had always been handsome and embraced who he was. Matías, on the other hand, was trying out this new style. Did he want to fit in with the Dirty Dogs or was this what he really liked?

It didn't matter, he was hot as sin too.

When we got at the compound, rows of bikes were lined up out front like they were getting ready to ride off to war.

"Looks like we made it just in time," Esteban muttered.

Matías grunted. "You're not wrong."

Several of the men rushed over with Ricco leading the pack.

"Rita! What the fuck happened yesterday? You didn't come back and you never called to check in." His tone was chastising, as if I were a small child. "I thought something bad happened to you." Ricco turned to the men who guarded us yesterday.

"Don't look at them."

His gaze snapped back to me. I'd never spoken to him in such a stone-cold tone.

"Inside." I started marching into the compound. "I’m calling a meeting."

There weren't any of the usual chairs. No one had had time to bring them out and arrange them. That was fine. They could all stand in the middle while I was on the platform.

Matías and Esteban each took an arm to lift me up. Then I turned around and faced my men. And they were mine. Every last fucking Dirty Dog. Mine to take care of, or mine to pull retribution from.

It only took a few seconds to realize some people were missing. Wait, there were quite a few people missing. "Ricco. Where is Due?"

Esteban jumped on the platform. He searched the crowd with me. "Due's missing," he muttered. "So is Emil, and Treg, and Hap." He rattled off another half a dozen names .

Joel and Ricco spun left and right.

"This is a mandatory meeting," I called out.

"Where are the others? Where's Rob?" Joel asked, glancing at the four men who guarded us yesterday where they lined up in front of the platform.

I gave him a severe frown. I wanted him to know I didn't trust him. I also wanted him to know that this was the fuckup of the entire gang.

"Well," I raised my voice so the entire room could hear me. All conversation quieted. "It seems like we have a rat in the club."