Page 34 of Outcast

The 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 hadPapá'sfuneral 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'scasket 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,cariño, 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. Iwantedto be done.

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