8. Rita

8

RITA

T he Dirty Dogs had clubs, shops, and other businesses, but the compound was our safe haven. Where we could just be ourselves. Sometimes with our families and sometimes with our friends if they were trusted.

It was fitting that we had Papá's funeral here.

The back courtyard was decorated by some of the women. I'd overseen it all. Making sure it was classy and tasteful, but still screamed Dirty Dogs. It was harder than you'd think it was to hit both aesthetics.

Soft music played in from the speakers set up in the corners and there were tables of snacks on the side along with a few kegs.

Papá's casket was close to the building, in the center. It wasn't open.

I couldn't handle that.

"This turned out nice," Amorette said from beside me as she surveyed the crowd of Dirty Dogs.

"What? Because we can be well behaved?" I asked wryly. Her shock was a nice distraction from the gaping hole in my chest.

"What?" Her head popped back. "No, of course not. I mean, the events Vicente threw in the Institution were lavish and pretty similar to the upper echelon of the US, I'd imagine. The two times I've been to a Dirty Dog club, it was..."

"Wild?" I supplied for her as I linked my arm through hers.

One side of her mouth twisted up. "Sure. We'll go with wild. You were there for one of the times." Amorette glanced up at me, her eyes sparkling.

I groaned. "Please don't bring that up again." We'd gone months and months without reminding me about that night with her and Parker. Then I mentioned it, and now her. Why was it on our minds so much now?

Ricco met my gaze from across the yard. He excused himself and walked toward me with his head down.

"Rita," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. He'd been like a crazy uncle when I was growing up. I'd never really been sheltered from the Dirty Dogs' ways. I'd always been aware of how out of control and free they were.

Ricco had been a staple in those memories, both because of his ruthless defense of the club and his silly antics to make me smile when I was a child.

"Hey," I said softly. I wasn't one to ever be at a loss for words. If I didn't have anything to say, I had an expression chocked full of attitude to share. Except today, none of that seemed appropriate.

"The boys and I have everything sorted for the club, so I don't want you to worry about anything."

I pinched my brows together. "What do you mean? "

"We're going to hold a vote for the next president. You can be present if you want, but I'm telling you, no matter what, you're going to be taken care of." He rested a meaty hand on my shoulder and squeezed in what he probably thought was a comforting gesture.

It wasn't comforting.

I twisted my head to the side and tried not to lose my shit.

Another president. Javier was no longer the head of the Dirty Dogs. I was still a fucking Dirty Dog and he thought I would need to be assured of that.

My breath came faster and I struggled to control my emotions.

"Rita?"

"Get the fuck away from her." Esteban. His hand slipped around my back as he turned me into his chest. Usually, I'd step away, not show any of my private life to the club, but right then, it felt good.

"Kid, I'm just letting her know–"

Esteban's body shook as if he was shaking his head. I just buried my face deeper into his chest.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said quietly. Firmly. "But now isn't the time to get into the politics of the club."

Ricco made a short noise like he was gearing up to argue, but he sighed. "Fine. Rita, carino , if you need anything, let us know. Every single one of us would bend over backward for you."

Esteban rubbed a soothing hand up and down my back and I let myself get lost in the motion. I didn't cry. I'd already sobbed a million tears and I was done. I wanted to be done.

When Ricco was gone, I raised my head. Amorette was still next to me, watching with concern .

She was the sweetest.

"You've got to be fucking shitting me," Esteban growled as his arms tightened around me in a hug. It was hard to twist around, but I managed.

Holy shit.

"Is that?" My jaw slackened.

"Matías." There was a light note in Amorette's voice I couldn't place.

There was no lightness inside of me. None.

It didn't matter that Matías was as darkly handsome as he'd ever been in a pressed black suit. It didn't matter that he had his brothers around him how he'd always dreamed of. It didn't even fucking matter that they all looked intimidating as hell even though Grey had my precious little pearl strapped to his chest.

The only thing running through my mind was how this was Matías' fault.

It was irrational, but I needed someone to blame. The stinging fire burning inside my stomach and chest said Matías was the one to get it all.

It hurt to look at him, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Esteban grunted and I glanced down. I loosened my hands and stopped digging my nails into his forearms.

"Don't think about it," Esteban whispered in my ear.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snarled. This anger was a breath of fresh air. I wanted to lean into it. Revel in it. Fan it enough that it pushed any grief out of my head and heart.

"You have that look about you that you get before you fuck somebody up. Now's not the time."

I glanced up at him through my lashes. He really was beautiful. Rugged, and handsome like any playboy. But it had been his top tier flirting and playfulness that drew me in that night.

Esteban had an ease about him that everyone liked. A charm that drew people in like magnets.

All of that was gone now as he glowered at Matías. Our shared energy hyped up my already wild emotions and when I glanced back at Matías, I raised myself up to my full height.

On four-inch heels, I was only a few inches shorter than him.

His regret was in his eyes as he stared down at me. For a second it tugged at my heartstrings, but I focused on how my love for this man had done nothing but cause me pain.

This was the last straw. I was done with him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Around us, the crowd was murmuring. Some excited, some shocked. It wasn't a secret Matías still lived, but no one had expected him to come back in such a public way.

"Making things right." His voice was calm, just like he always was. I used to admire his ability to remain so unbothered, but now I wanted to rip his tight control to shreds.

"What thing is that?" I asked, then cocked a hip and pursed my lips. I did not want him here, and there wasn't a way I could make that clearer.

"Being here for Javier."

I swallowed but held his lying gaze.

"Being here for you," he finished softly.

"I don't want you here," I spat.

"Rita," Amorette murmured as Matías blinked swiftly. He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Did he not think that was a possibility? That he would come here and I wouldn't want to see the face that broke my heart over and over again? That everything would magically go back to the way it had been years ago?

Like fucking hell.

"You don't have to leave," Esteban started and I stiffened. Who was he to say that? "But you need to let Rita have her space."

We had a crowd now. Outside of us, the music was the only thing in the background. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen with Matías.

Matías didn't even give Esteban the courtesy of a glance. He kept his gaze glued to my face, his eyes constantly flicking back and forth between my eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I wrapped my fingers around Esteban's forearms, being careful not to get him with my nails. He just pulled me tighter against his body.

A curl of guilt rose in my stomach but I forced it away. I'd done nothing wrong and I refused to let my fucked up emotions make me feel otherwise.

"Is that what you want?" Matías was always so fucking cool.

Even when he walked into his neighbor's apartment, I wanted the satisfaction of catching him off guard. Of throwing him for a loop. But the man had acted as if he expected me there every single fucking day.

Then in his apartment when I'd found out about Papá ...

In his apartment, he'd caught me when I fell, but that was it. He didn't care enough to leave with me. He hadn't shown any reaction at all.

So what was this? A bout of guilt that made him come running? A weak-ass excuse.

Tears swam in my eyes as I directed all my hate his way. I wanted him to feel how much I didn't want him anymore.

"Stay, go, I don't fucking care, but don't come near me." I pulled myself from Esteban's arms. He reluctantly let me go, trailing his fingers across my stomach before letting his hand fall away. It was intimate. Something a lover would do.

That was the exact moment Matías seemed to realize Esteban was even here. His gaze snapped to Esteban, and for a few moments, they were locked in a deadly stare down.

A dark smirk curled Esteban's mouth, so different from the carefree smile he usually showed the world.

"What? You thought your toys would stay yours when you weren't here to play with them?"

"You fucking–" Matías dove for Esteban, but Andre caught him around the stomach. Swinging him around, Andre and Grey pushed Matías back. "She's not a fucking toy."

Esteban hadn't even flinched. He had been ready, as if he expected Matías to attack. Loosening his shoulders, he nodded. "You're right. She's not. Rita isn't a toy. She's not disposable, and she damn sure isn't forgettable. All things you seem to forget. Don't worry, the Dirty Dogs know exactly what she's worth."

Some of the crowd whooped. Some boo'd. There was a divide between who was happy with Matías' presence and who wasn't.

Stepping back from his brothers, Matías yanked his suit jacket down in quick, harsh motions. "Not for a second did I ever think any of those things about Rita." He met my gaze with a steely look. "Never."

Then he spun and sauntered toward the wall. Parker kissed Amorette on the head and followed Andre to the spot Matías claimed.

Grey and Lafe lingered.

Releasing a breath, I smiled at Cossette. She frowned, her little brain understanding this wasn't a happy place. When I touched her foot, some of her sunny exuberance returned and she gave me a toothy grin.

"It's a good thing he's back," Amorette said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Mmhm."

"Leave it alone," Grey warned Amorette.

She tipped her chin up, but didn't say anything else.

It was time to start the funeral.

The way Dirty Dogs celebrated life was probably different from the rest of society. We partied hard and told stories around the fire.

Glancing up, the sun had just gone down and the stars were starting to come out.

I walked toward the makeshift platform. Someone handed me a bottle of liquor as barrels were rolled out. Once I was above the crowd, I whistled.

"It's a sad day when Javier Aguilar is no longer with us. He was a great man. A great leader. And a great father." My voice broke at the end. Esteban sidled up to the front of the stage, watching me with a steady support I hadn't known I'd needed until that moment. "Tonight is a celebration! Of his life and his memory! Light the barrels!"

Men tossed lit pieces of paper into the barrels that had been prepared specifically for tonight. They went up in flames and the crowd cheered.

"Until the sun comes up, the Dirty Dogs do what we do best! Fuck it up!" I raised one fist in the air, and used the other to bring the bottle to my lips.

The liquor was warm, adding to the burn as it went down my throat.

When I dropped my head, Ricco and Esteban were there to help me off the platform. As much as I tried to ignore him, Matías was in the crowd, with a perfect line of sight to me.

People crowded around him, clapping him on the back, welcoming him as if he'd never left. Yet his eyes never left me.

Something told me he'd find me before the night was up.