Page 67 of Outcast

I froze my efforts to find an appropriate clubbing dress. "Shit." That was right. I'd rode here on Esteban's bike.

"It's fine. I have a spare SUV here. I'll drive you." He rolled out of bed without an ounce of irritation.

"What are you doing, Esteban?" I tilted my head, waiting for him to look at me.

He slid his jeans over his toned ass and glanced over his shoulder. "Getting dressed. What I assume you're about to do. Unless you want to make Germaine wait?"

The thought was tempting, but... "I can't. The club's already packed at this hour. Anyway, you know what I mean."

Sighing, he turned around after he'd zipped up his jeans and pulled on his shirt. "I told you. I want a chance. This is me taking it."

I nodded, pressing my lips together. This was fun, and I liked him. More than liked him. But I was so fucked up right now for so many reasons.

Did he understand that?

The seriousness in his gaze as he watched me said he did. He also didn't care.

"You also need a bit of normalcy. And time to just breathe. I'm going to make sure you get it."

I grinned and raised one brow. "So you're going to pamper the shit out of me until I can't live without you?"

"Yup." He stepped closer, cupping my waist and dropping a kiss on my lips. "No regrets." Then he slid past me to go to the bathroom.

Esteban directedseveral of the workers to unload the back of the SUV. We had everything I thought we had in inventoryat the compound. It was nice, knowing something and being right about it.

These employees weren't part of Dirty Dogs.Papáhad always handled the gang as mostly above board and he wanted clean people to do that. The guys had a momentary identity crisis when we'd pulled back from some of our other activities after Vicente and Valentina died.

Shit. That could be part of why the men were all fired up to go hard after this other club. They were insulted, their pride had taken multiple hits, and they were struggling to fill their time.

I checked the time. Amorette should be here by now.

"I need to go find Amorette." I touched Esteban's arm.

He worked his jaw as the last worker took the final box. "I'll come with you."

"I don't need a bodyguard in our own club." I tucked my phone in my clutch and waited. I wanted him to come with me. I wanted him to fix that fundamental thing inside me that Matías broke.

"Ask me if I give a fuck," he hummed.

Beaming, I led the way through the back entrance of the club. The blacklights overhead gave everything a dark and sinister vibe. The employees all wore white to stand out in the crowd. Hilarious considering that the Dirty Dogs owned it.

Not all of our clubs had a VIP section, including this one, but we did have a section that was in the corner just for Dirty Dogs. It wasn't roped off, it was simply known as off-limits to the locals.

As I pushed through the sweaty crowd, I craned my neck looking for my tiny friend. She was a bitch to find in these places because she was shorter than everyone and refused to wear anything bigger than kitten heels.

I'd asked her once why she didn't rock taller heels. She'd said she wanted to be able to run if she needed to. Given her chosen men, I understood it.

We reached the bar, and Germaine propped his elbows on the counter. "You're a lifesaver. Tonight is wild!" he yelled over the music.

"No problem." I gripped the wooden edge of the counter and Esteban caged me in with his arms. Warmth pooled in my stomach. This was what I'd always wanted. The feeling that I was the most important person in someone's life.

I opened my mouth to ask if he'd seen Amorette–he'd met her a couple times in the last year, when he pointed to our section.

"Your friends are over there."

"Thanks!" I called, but I was already weaving through hot and sweaty couples.

"Fuck a bitch," Esteban muttered.

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