7. Matías

7

MATíAS

T he liquor wasn't nearly as strong as the pull of home. Yet, it hadn't stopped me from finishing off half the bottle as I sat here in the most uncomfortable wooden chair I'd ever used. It wasn't even the right size, but the furniture that had come with the apartment was seemed miniature. My feet even hung over the end of the mattress.

The silence was a farce as the neighbors turned on their TV, coughed, or flushed the toilet. The noises were a reminder that there were people living their lives while my ass was glued to this seat.

My mind was alarmingly blank as I stared at the glass on the table. I slowly spun it around with my hand.

I'd been in this exact spot for at least a day . My phone had buzzed. Probably Jo?o, wondering where I was. But after the first hour, that had stopped.

Someone knocked on my door at lunch. That was most likely Pedro. I didn't move a muscle and eventually, the stairs creaked as he returned upstairs .

Nothing moved me. If given the chance, I could stay in this spot until I took my last breath.

That was what I wanted, wasn't it? To disappear and make everyone's life easier?

What was easy about that? What was right with it? Fair?

I barked out a laugh, then jumped. I startled myself with the break in silence.

Without any thought behind it, I picked up the glass and threw it against the wall. The high-pitched shatter accosted my ears as the pieces flew everywhere and liquid dripped down the wall.

Salty liquid entered the seam of my mouth and I used both hands to wipe my face. Fuck, I was crying.

I hadn't cried when Vicente died. I definitely hadn’t shed one goddamned tear when Valentina died.

But Javier? That ripped my heart out of my chest. I could feel it now, like it had been a ghost hiding inside me all along.

But was it because he died, or because Rita used his last days to come get me?

She missed his passing because of me . Because he wanted to see me.

What was so fucking important that I had to stay away? Who was I protecting? Them?

Or myself?

It didn't make sense anymore. Did it ever?

Memories floated up to the surface of Javier over the years.

Him clapping me on the back, when I helped him iron out a deal. Javier sitting in silence with me after I had to watch my brother Grey whipped at the post when there wasn't a goddamned thing I could do about it.

Whenever I had to witness a new atrocity at Vicente’s hands, Javier offered a place to gather my thoughts and collect myself.

Then there was the conversation I had with him after my brothers’ girl, Amorette, stabbed one of the Dirty Dogs.

"That fucker had it coming anyway." Javier shrugged. "I'm glad she took care of the issue for me. Saved me a hell of a headache." He'd laughed, then sobered up. "I'm glad to see you with your brothers. It's the one thing you've always wanted."

"You mean you weren't ready to welcome me into the Dirty Dogs?" I laughed it off as a joke.

He held my stare. "Matías, you're a Dirty Dog regardless of whatever shit you're doing with your brothers. You have our support. Doesn't mean I don't wish things were different." Shaking his head, he'd walked away.

The fuck of it was, the Dirty Dogs had come through for my brothers. It wasn't easy at first. I'd heard there were rumblings because they blamed them for my death, but in the end, they showed up when they were needed.

Unable to hold my head up any longer, it fell, my chin hitting my chest.

Rita? Even when she was furious with me, she gave it all away with her eyes.

I'd heard she'd befriended Amorette. She did that for herself, and because of the kind of woman Amorette was, but I'd bet she’d done that for me too. Because she thought I was gone.

Everyone in my life who mattered showed up for me over and over. In big and small ways.

Who did I show up for? No fucking one. But I’d tried my best, hadn’t I?

Yet, I'd let Vicente and then Valentina dictate every decision I made.

They were dead. They're dead .

"You're fucking dead!" I screamed at the floor.

A jolt of electricity shocked me as a new purpose settled over me. Rita was right. I was letting the dead dictate who I could and couldn't love. I loved my brothers, regardless of how they viewed me. I loved Rita, even though I didn't deserve her. And I owed it to Javier to be there when they laid him to rest.

I raced to grab my phone and fired off a text to Andre. He'd meet me. If nothing else, he'd have my back if I needed it. Of that, I was certain.

Then I spent the next two hours cleaning out the apartment. It was pitiful how meager my belongings were, a testament that I didn't belong here.

Before the next morning, I chartered a private plane, and headed back to the place I'd never thought I'd go again.

Home.

"Sir," a woman said. "Sir."

I bolted upright, glancing around. The windows were shut, but I was surrounded by luxury airplane seats. All of them empty, but it was enough to remind me of where I was and where I was going.

"We're landing in twenty minutes." She pointed to the seatbelt and walked back up the aisle.

My heart thudded almost painfully, partly from bursting awake, and partly from nervous anticipation.

This was going to go really well, or really fucking poorly.

I headed to the bathroom and quickly cleaned up so I could return to my seat and buckle in. I could use a shower, but that could wait until later.

Once they opened up the plane and I stepped out, a black SUV was waiting and a man who might as well have been my twin stood with his arms crossed. We were both the spitting image of Vicente, even though we had different mothers. Thick, dark hair, tan skin, and amber eyes. Only Andre was anal about everything, including his impeccable suits.

The wind picked up and fluttered said suit jacket.

I was really here.

Instant relief hit me square in the chest. Tossing my duffle bag over my shoulder, I sped up. I couldn't stop the grin from forming when I got close. Andre, the control freak, kept his level expression.

I hadn't expected him to be ecstatic when I came back, but I didn't care. I was happy to see the bastard. No pun intended.

"Hel–" I started to greet him, but I couldn't finish the word before his fist met my mouth.

"Ow!" I hollered, twisting away and covering my face. I dropped my duffle bag too. "What the fuck?" I yelled.

He waited for me to collect myself and stand up. When I turned around, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug, slapping my back hard. "It's good to have you home, you pendejo estúpido ."

I returned the hug weakly. "That was an asshole thing to do," I gripped, but somehow, I was still grinning. When he stepped back, he mirrored my expression.

No matter what kind of shit storm I was about to stir up, Andre was happy to have me home.

That felt good.

The doors on the SUV opened and when I glanced over his shoulder, my grin morphed into a smile so wide, my cheeks hurt.

Parker leaned his elbow on top of the car by the front passenger seat, smirking. He hadn't changed a bit. Still wearing his hair buzzed short and mischievousness ingrained into every inch of him. Lafe sat in the backseat but his head was turned our way. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't not smiling either. It was a weird sort of calm I'd never seen on Lafe before.

He'd been an addict for years. All because of Vicente. But he'd never had the gaunt look about him. Grey and Andre had done a good job of feeding him proper meals to keep weight on him.

Then there was Grey walking around the back. "It's good to see you." He pulled me into a hug.

Where Andre and I took after our father. The other three took after their mothers. Their separate mothers. Not only were they my half-brothers, but they were each other's half-brothers.

Lafe's mother was Scandinavian, giving him light blond hair and blue eyes. Grey's mother had been Russian. Giving him darker blond hair and green eyes. But where Lafe had always carried a tortured look, Grey had the sharp features of a fighter that would stab you while you were down and smile about it.

Damn, it was good to see them all again. I hadn't expected them to have changed so much without changing at all. Leadership looked good on them.

I had a little more enthusiasm with Grey's hug, but I was still confused. When did we become a hugging family?

Parker appeared on Andre's other side and threw his arms around me. "I wasn't going to hug you, but since you said that, I figured I better," he snickered.

Dammit. I said that out loud.

Leaving one arm around my shoulders, he led me to the back door Grey had exited .

"I'd get out to greet you, but we can't leave our little bug alone," Lafe said as I peered into the SUV.

In the middle seat was a rear-facing car seat with a tiny baby inside. She was maybe five or six months old. Turning her head, she kicked her chubby little feet and grinned as she slobbered on two of her fingers.

"I'd like to introduce you to Cossette Black. Meaning little thing or people of victory. Take your pick." Parker shrugged. "Both apply."

I leaned inside the car to get a better look. She was gorgeous. Soft blond curls and bright blue eyes. Such rosy, fat cheeks. Reaching out, I touched the apple with the pads of my fingers.

She gurgled and started repeating some kind of sound over and over again. Lafe smiled and dabbed her face with a white cloth.

"She's stunning," I whispered as I flicked my gaze to Lafe, then twisted my head to Grey. There were only two brothers with blond hair. Amorette had black. "She kept Amorette's last name?"

"Well, dear brother..."

My heart contracted. Parker had never addressed me like that before, although that was how he spoke to the others.

"There are four of us, all with different last names. It would have been a bloodbath if Amorette had picked one of our last names for the baby."

"What about the father's last name?" I choked out, still caught up with him addressing me so familiarly, without any sarcasm.

Lafe lightly pinched her chin. "We didn't know the father at the time of the birth. So Black worked just fine." He didn't elaborate anymore .

"Here, take the front seat. Grey will slide in the second backseat and I'll sit next to my little victory." Parker tugged on the back of my shirt to pull me out of the seat.

I climbed in the front seat and waited for the others to get situated. "Where's Amorette?"

"With Rita," Andre answered nonchalantly as he put the SUV in drive.

I turned to look out the window, not wanting to reveal how just the mention of her name affected me.

"Ready to tell us the story yet?" Parker tapped the back of my headrest.

"Fuck off," I growled. He laughed.

"You did come back for Rita, did you not?" Parker said with a smile in his voice.

"What are you laughing about? Javier is dead," I snapped, then pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

The others were quiet for a beat.

"We didn't know him like you did, but of course the family has our condolences," Andre said as he flipped on the blinker. "We were starting to build a nice alliance and I only have good things to say about him."

"Except for when he thought we killed Matías to take over, you mean," Parker added with a snort.

"Parker!" Lafe yelled.

"It's fine." I raised my hand. I had allowed myself one contact, and he'd shared with me everything that happened. If Javier had seriously considered going to war with them over my death, I would have come back.

"But you're here for Rita. You can't lie to us," Grey chimed in from the back.

I twisted in my seat. He never got involved in these kinds of conversations. He held his silence more than the others .

"Why are you avoiding the question?" Andre asked, shooting me a quick look before taking his attention back to the road.

"I'm not." I stiffened. But fuck, I was.

I did come back for Rita, but if she didn't want me…I wanted to lick my wounds in private.

"Come on. We're all family here. We can't help you if you're not honest with us," Parker said in a light tone. Then it turned severe. "For once, be honest."

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and shifted in my seat. "I came back for her," I whispered. "For Javier too. Because she came to find me and missed Javier's passing."

"We know. What else?"

"You know?" I faced Andre.

He dipped his head once. "We know. We gave her your location when she asked."

"You..." I curled my fingers into tight fists on my thighs. If Andre hadn't given her my location, she might have stayed with Javier. She wouldn't have broken in my arms when she found out about his death. She would have been–

"Whatever you're thinking, stop. She would have gone looking for you if we didn't give her your location. She's a bulldog when she wants something," Parker reasoned. He was right.

Releasing my breath, I tipped my head back. I wasn’t even surprised they knew where I was.

"I love her." The words tore from my throat, but once they were out, I felt better. Lighter.

"Good. Admitting it is the first step. The funeral starts in an hour. We have just enough time to fill you in on a few things and get you changed. Did you bring a suit?" Andre took control, just like he'd been born to do .

I was supposed to have been the next leader of the Institution. But I didn't want it. I had never wanted it.

And perhaps, that was why I ran too.

"No. I didn't need a suit to be a tour guide."

"But you had access to a private jet," Parker pointed out.

"I accessed my accounts when I decided to come back. I hadn't touched them before then." I twisted in my seat. They probably knew that.

"Smart," Lafe muttered as he played with Cossette's toes. He was a man obsessed and I was happy for him. For all of them.

"Tell him about what's been happening in the Dirty Dogs," Grey said, leaning his forearms over the seat behind Cosette's car seat.

"Yes, let's get down to business." Parker rubbed his hands together.

They filled me in on some things I hadn't heard, and by the time we got to the funeral, I’d made up my mind.

I was staying. For good. This time Rita was going to be mine, the way she always should have been mine.

Once we were out of the SUV, Grey strapped Cossette onto his chest in a baby carrier. With me leading in the center, they fanned out behind me.

We walked into the Dirty Dogs' compound as a unit.