25. Matías

25

MATíAS

I did the slow loop around the block, searching for anything or anyone who looked out of place. This wasn't the tourist district, so it was missing a lot of the bumbling crowds, but there were a few people walking down the street.

"Park at the end." Esteban jerked his head toward the next block.

"Really?" I asked. I was already heading there.

"What?" he asked as if he didn't have a clue that he was being obtuse.

"Nothing." I flipped the car and parked on the corner behind a banged up white van. The windows were blacked out with scratches like all pedos vehicles were.

"That's a nasty ass looking van," Esteban commented as he climbed out.

"Yep." I walked close and tried to peek in the windows. I couldn't see a damned thing. Even where there were scratches, it was too dark inside.

"Let's go. We have to get back to Rita." He brushed by me .

Not wanting to be here any longer than I had to, I pulled my gun and followed him. Usually, I wouldn't carry on the street, but this area was mainly run by corrupt police looking for a payoff, and I wanted to have access to my weapon if I needed it.

The bell on the door rang and the same hostess came through the back. She slowed her steps when she saw us.

"Matthews is not here." If she were a cat, her hackles would be up.

I motioned her forward with my finger. It was in between lunch and dinner and the dining area was empty. No reason to pretend this was a friendly visit.

She gulped but shuffled forward. When she was a few steps away, I caught her shirt in my fist and pressed my gun to the side of her throat.

"This angle may not kill you. It could. Or it could just take out your voice box. But the close range also plays a part. Now tell me, is Matthews here?"

"Y-yes." Her eyes blinked back tears.

"Yell for him."

Closing her eyes, she screamed, " Senor Matthews!"

It was only a few tense minutes before the stairs creaked. "Ting, the phone works better than breaking your–" He froze when he was down far enough to see us.

I smiled.

"Let her go."

"Gladly. She served her purpose." I released her, careful not to shove her too hard. But I did not put away my weapon. "I came for a friendly visit."

Matthews' freckles stood out against his pale skin as he glowered at me. "Call me crazy, but this doesn't seem friendly."

"You've never had friends like us before," Esteban said. I glanced over and his dimples were on full display from his tight lipped smile.

"Apparently," he returned, grim. "Let's take this upstairs."

The hostess was already gone. I took the stairs first and Esteban brought up the rear. At the top, Matthews pounded on the wall. "Dingo! Trace!"

Two men popped out of the room at the end of the hall, both sweaty and in workout clothes.

"Yeah, boss?" one asked.

"I need backup."

Esteban kept grinning, but I'd lost my desire to smile. Now that I had an audience with Matthews, it was time for business.

Both men snapped alert when they saw us and immediately prowled toward us.

"In here," Matthews said. He was waiting with the office door open.

Again, I went in first and Esteban second. Matthews' two guys stood on either side of the closed office door with their arms crossed. Shocking that they hadn't taken the time to get a weapon. Unless they were hiding it in the ass of their shorts. Unlikely.

The three of us sat down, Esteban taking the chair Rita had sat in. Leaning back, I let my gun hand dangle from the end of the chair arm. I still had a good grip on the weapon, but this way, they wouldn't feel like I was aiming it at their chests.

"So, what brings you back with so much friendliness ." Matthews bared his teeth.

"It seems you left out some key details when we were here."

Matthews snorted. "Of course, I did. I'm not from here, but I'm not stupid. "

"Hey, I get it," Esteban spread his knees and got comfortable. "We're not allies or anything like that. Why would you tell us anything at all?"

"I think I gave you plenty." From the heavy set of his brows, he believed he had.

"You did," I agreed. Flicking my gaze to the men at the door, I checked their expressions. They were stone-faced. Either they had a hell of a poker face, or Matthews had filled them in on what he shared. "The question is, why did you share just enough to get us killed?"

Matthews started twisting from side to side in his chair. "Your buddy would have tried to kill you whether I gave you that information or not. In fact, it worked in your favor, because, not only did you uncover a person who tried to kill you, you survived."

"The funny thing is, he could have been your rat." I watched for a cue.

Not even the most minuscule twitch of his face or hands that were in full view.

"He's not,” I deduced.

Matthews slowly relaxed as if he felt the danger had passed. "He's not."

"If he was, you would have said something. Maybe or maybe not." Twisting my mouth to the side, I pretended to think this through. "But you or someone in your–Do you have a club name yet?"

A real smile broke out on his face. "No, not yet. We thought about Freedom Fighters and all kinds of cheesy names, but none of them feel right. So we're just the club until we think of something better."

"I wished I could help you, but I'm shit with names. Javier came up with Dirty Dogs," Esteban said lightly and Matthews relaxed further .

"Not a big deal. It will come to us when it's time."

"Which one of your guys has been hanging out with the Dirty Dogs?" I asked.

Matthews froze. "What makes you think that we're hanging out?"

"That's the funny thing. You see, Rita's cleaning house, and we discovered that someone from your club has been hanging out with some of our problem children."

"Our?" Matthews asked, likely as a distraction.

"What can I say? I put in my application so I already consider myself part of the club."

His nose twitched. He didn’t seem to appreciate my sarcasm.

"You became part of the club when you started sticking your dick in Rita,” Matthews returned dryly.

What the fuck?

Esteban shook in silent laughter.

"Don't look at him like that. We already knew. The first time I met Esteban, I told him I'd done my homework on every single person's name I could find." His gaze shot to me. "Which includes you."

"Who has been meeting with the club?" I asked again. I didn’t give a shit about what he did or didn’t know about the club. I wanted his contact. I wanted any information he had on a plan to hurt Rita.

"I have." One of the men by the door said. He was a burly motherfucker. A full head of hair and scruffy beard. Not anything I thought a US military man would look like.

"And you are?"

"Dingo." His face and voice were void of any inflection. He was a robot.

"Real name?" I squinted. I didn’t care about Matthrews’ research, but I’d happily do my own .

He grinned. "No."

"Tell me who the rat is?"

"I can tell you who he's not," Matthews interjected, bringing the conversation back to him.

"And who would those people be?" I already knew his answer, but I played along.

"Neither of you."

"That's not good enough."

"It will have to be. You've been around a long time. You wouldn't give up your best intel for nothing." He raised his brows as if he was willing to keep talking.

"You want to negotiate?" Fuck that.

"Of course." Now he rocked back and forth in his chair.

"Rita would be the one to negotiate with, but I can tell you right now, she probably won't give you what you want," Esteban said.

" If Rita takes over the club."

"Why wouldn't she?" Esteban sat forward.

Matthews shrugged and exchanged glances with his men. "That's not ours to say."

I reached over and pressed a hand into Esteban's chest to stop him. His charm dropped away in a blink of an eye as his face darkened in anger and his eyes drilled holes in Matthews.

"If there's a plan to hurt Rita and you know about it, I–"

"What do you want?" I made sure Esteban was going to stay quiet before I removed my hand.

"I want a home for my brothers. We want to operate our businesses without any trouble."

"That will never happen. Even if the Dirty Dogs allowed you to take over the businesses they dropped, my brothers wouldn't allow it. Between the two, you'd never get the businesses going, and you wouldn't leave town alive." I paused to let the weight of my words settle between us. "What else do you want?"

Matthews cursed. Glancing out the window, he worked his jaw back and forth.

The man really thought he’d be able to work it all out. It was clear now, he wasn’t a player. He wasn’t even on the board, not really.

Our issues were inside our own house.

"We're done here. You don't have anything I want, and I'm not willing to part with my secrets for shit." Matthews stood up.

Canting my head, I tried to figure him out. He seemed like a smart man. He'd done so much research, but had thought it would be a real possibility to pick up skins and drugs. "Why come here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Of all the places you could have gone, why did you move to our territory?"

"The Dirty Dogs and the Institution co-exist here just fine."

I shook my head. "Not really. The territories don't overlap, and there was never peace between the two. If you knew who my father had been, you'd understand that. The Dirty Dogs had only existed because he allowed it for his pleasure and his amusement."

For some reason that irked Matthews. "Yet your father isn't here."

That caught me off guard. "You know the Institution no longer exists, correct?"

He scoffed. "Of course, I do."

"Then you know how Vicente Castillo lost his power?"

He eyed me, like he wasn't sure where I was going. "The details around his death are murky at best. I couldn't find a definitive answer."

"My father was killed by his only daughter. Valentina." May she rot in Hell. "You know how she died?"

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Whoever he had used to get his information had left some gaping holes.

"I didn't realize there was a sister."

Laughing, I slapped my knee like I was having a damn good time. Then I killed it. "There was. She was the bane of my existence and the second person I ever truly hated. The first was my father. She died at the hands of that lovely little woman my brothers call their wife."

His mouth popped open and Esteban lost it. "I had the same reaction the first time I heard. But I already knew she was a little badass."

"My point is, the Institution didn't fall because of a rivalry. The Institution fell from the inside. No one but his children could have ever touched him. And all that power now belongs to my brothers."

"That you don't want, even if it was rightfully yours," Matthews pointed out.

Esteban's gaze burned a hole in the side of my head as if he too was interested in this answer.

"No, I don't want it. It was ours, not mine, and they're much better suited for running Carnage Industries."

Matthews stretched his arms across the desk. "Yet here you are, trying to be at the top of the Dirty Dogs. You want power, you just don't want to admit it."

I raised a brow and didn't deign to answer him.

"I heard that there's an office being cleared for you as we speak at Carnage Industries. Your brothers want you to work for them. Are you sure you're so loyal to the Dirty Dogs? "

The burning in the side of my head intensified.

"Don't question my loyalty and I won't take your heart and deliver it to Rita." I stood. "I'm done here, Esteban. It was a wasted trip."

Esteban remained sitting as he narrowed his eyes on Matthews. "You know, I can figure out who the rat is. But if you have information about Rita and you don't share it, I will make it my personal mission in life to erase every single one of you from existence." He flicked his gaze to the men at the door.

"You won't be alone." I clapped Esteban on the shoulder.

He glanced at me, a question in his gaze. He wanted to know if what Matthews said was true. He trusted me so little that he was concerned I'd leave and work with my brothers.

I loved those four assholes, and I wouldn't betray them for the world, but my place wasn't with them.

My place was with Rita, and the more time I was back, I was starting to think my place was with Esteban too.

Esteban dipped his head, then turned back to the men at the door. "Do you have anything to tell us before we walk out that door?"

Dingo glanced at Matthews who gave a minute shake of his head. "Nope. I got nothing."

Standing, Matthews pushed his chair in and rounded the desk. "I don't want a war. I really don't. But if I have to fight one...we have plenty of experience to make sure we come out on top." It was a warning.

I wanted to deliver my own.

"When your man died, he was shot by a pendejo who we beheaded as our own form of justice and delivered to you as proof.” It didn’t matter that the man acted on his own without Dirty Dogs’ permission. “He could very well be the rat. "

The skin under Matthews left eye twitched. Interesting.

I continued, "Your vendetta isn't with the Dirty Dogs. Not really. It's with the cabróns who are trying to flip their shit. If something happens to any of us three, that's different. For us, it will be personal, and I will hold you responsible."

"Just you three, not the Dirty Dogs?"

"I will fight for the Dirty Dogs. But if Esteban or Rita are harmed and you could have prevented it, you'll die. That's a promise."

Esteban and I let ourselves out.

As we headed down the street, Esteban shifted closer. "That was a bust."

"Yes and no. I assumed he wouldn't tell us anything. I mainly wanted to deliver my own threat."

"He doesn't seem to care about that." He scratched his temple as we reached the SUV.

"It was a lot of posturing, wasn't it?"

"Hell yeah, it was. And repetitive too."

"Good. I want him to remember my words. Something bad is coming. I feel it. Maybe this repeated reminder that we're bigger than they are will loosen their tongues and they'll find us later."

Esteban rolled his eyes. "Like that will happen."

"You never know, kid."

"I'm not a fucking kid," he griped.

I grinned as I drove us back to Rita. We should even have thirty minutes to spare.