Page 22 of Outcast

One of her brows raised in a mocking gesture. She moved her head back and forth in a motion that screamed,well? What are you going to do now?

I was going to fucking pretend this wasn't a big deal to Pedro. Then get my ass out of here.

"Matt," Pedro chastised. He didn't say anything else, because my Portuguese was horrific and he didn't like wasting his breath.

"Desculpe," I muttered and set the bags on the counter behind him. I pulled out the bread and meat. "Para jantar," I said. Then wadded up the bags in my hand. I almost threw them away, but stopped. I'd save them for next time.

Pedro hummed.

When I turned, Rita still had her gaze locked on me. I couldn't hold her stare. I recognized every single emotion sliding through her eyes and each one gutted me more than the last.

Hurt. Anger. Outrage. And the last one. Hate.

What I didn't see was love.

That was what I wanted. What I had wanted for a long time. Then I’d thrown it away.

"Preciso..." I mashed my lips together as I thought about the words. They were so similar to Spanish but so different. "De sair."

Pedro motioned to Rita. "Seu amiga?"

"Não," I barked. When he raised his brows, I shook my head. "Sim, mas não. Desculpe."

I fled that place like dogs were biting my ass. I laughed, but there was no humor in it. It could be argued that was true. Rita was a Dirty Dog to her core. Something I'd always been jealous of.

The Dirty Dogs were like family. The Institution had been an adult version of The Hunger Games.

Hopefully, my brothers learned a thing or two and would do everything different.

I took the steps two at a time, ignoring how my heart beat harder with every step I got further away from her. Like the sorry muscle was angry with me for leaving a second time.

Yet, I couldn't do this, not today. Fuck, not ever.

The quick, rage-filled taps of Rita's heels started on the staircase before I had the key turned in my door. Fuck.

She followed me. Then again, I knew she would.

I would rather do this in my apartment than in front of Pedro. Even if he and all our other neighbors could hear us.

"Matías," she snapped.

"Rita," I returned as I pushed my door open. I barely stepped through when she knocked the door even wider, pulling the knob from my hand. It banged hard against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" She raised her voice as I turned around. I'd moved far enough into my apartment that she could shut the door. Rita didn't bother with the lock. Maybe that meant she wouldn't be staying long.

Dear God, I hoped she didn't stay long.

"Why would I think you showing up here is funny?" Iraked a hand through my hair. It was a tell, but the only one she'd get.

"Because your sorry ass is smirking." Rita gestured to my face with red tinting hers.

I wiped my hand over my mouth. Damn it. My lips were formed into a slight smile. Not for the reasons she thought. She had always been angry. A quick trigger. A loose cannon. Her barging in and banging my door against the wall was exactly like her.

As comforting as it was painful. A reminder of what I'd once wanted for myself.

"What are you doing here?" I asked calmly.

She backed up, shaking her head as her mouth fell slack. The hurt pushed the hate out of her eyes, and I winced. I didn't want to hurt her. That wasn't what I'd ever wanted.

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