Page 81 of Outcast

He glanced back and raised a brow. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Nothing, as long as you mind your manners." I shrugged.

Rita glanced back and rolled her eyes. "Esteban's harmless."

"That's what you think. That's what everyone thinks, but you haven't seen me angry."

She paused, then nodded. "You're right," she breathed out. "And this is my fault."

"No." Matías grazed his fingers over the back of her hand on the steering wheel. "It's no one's fault. He just has to grow up," he said with a sneer as he cut his gaze at me.

Raising the gun, I pointed it straight at his head. "Watch your fucking mouth."

I had to give it to him. He didn't even twitch. Eyeing me calmly, he leaned between the seat and pressed his forehead to the end of the gun. "You want to shoot me? Go ahead. I think you underestimate how fucked up my childhood was. I was constantly on the verge of murder at my father's hands, just like my brothers."

"Sit your ass back, Esteban," Rita yelled. She wasn't playing. Her voice was firm and cold. "We have a funeral to plan for Tiago and a club to keep intact. We don't have time for petty posturing."

There was a note of uncertainty there. My girl, she knew me as the easy going guy. But right then, she didn’t know if I would actually kill him or not. She didn’t know how far my hate drove me at that moment.

I didn't glance at Rita as intrusive thoughts battered against me. I could pull the trigger. I could get rid of mynumber one problem. Then nothing would stand in my way with Rita. She'd forgive me.

Eventually.

Once I made her see how useless Matías actually was.

There wasn't even an ounce of sweat on his forehead. This fucker really didn't care. Or he cared, but he didn't think I'd do it.

"Esteban," Rita snapped, fear coloring my name. Shit, I didn’t want that emotion attached to my name out of her mouth no matter the cause.

It was like fighting hell itself to lower the weapon.

"Thank you." She sounded so prim and sassy, if shaky. But I still couldn't look at her. Matías and I were locked in a battle of wills.

He broke the stare first, facing forward and hooking Bluetooth up to his phone. He broke our stare to put on fucking music.

Low notes came out of the speakers and Rita stiffened. "This is my favorite song."

Matías reached over and grazed her hand again. "I know," he said softly, like they were having a minute without me in the backseat.

How could this man, who proclaimed to want her so badly, to say she was his one who got away–or he threw away, not to have attacked me the night before?

He was a bigger man than me because just knowing where his skin touched hers made me want to cut his fingertips off so he'd never do it again. I thought I could wait for her to see me. But I couldn't.

I needed her now and I was going to do everything I could to convince her she needed me more than him.

Giving one slight shake of her head, Rita started the car and put directions on.

"What's the plan?" I gritted out, doing my fucking best not to reach forward and choke Matías.

Twisting her lips to the side, she thought for a minute. "Matthews is the leader. They're American. I've dealt with my fair share of tourists so I can possibly play up their need to treat a woman right."

"That might work, but they could just as easily see you as a non-threat because you're a woman," I said, pressing my back against the seat.

Bikes roared as they surrounded the vehicle. Some of my tension eased. At least we weren't going into this blind.

"The days of thoughtless killings are behind us. We're not the same club we were when the Institution was alive, and we're not going back there."

If Matías thought that was a dig at his father, he didn't show any reaction at all.

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