Page 14 of Outcast

Or so the guys gossiped.

I never participated in that shit, and I shut it down when I could. Partly since it wasn't true. Mostly because I'd tie upany man who went after Javier or Rita, then toss them in the ocean with a nice weight around their waist.

Unlike most of the other Dirty Dogs, I hated blood. I didn't want to dirty my hands with it. I preferred to take care of business where they died a slow death and I didn't have to see it. Just knowing it sucked for them at the end was enough for me.

"Things have changed. We're not trafficking anymore. We're also not distributing on the streets." I wiped my forehead and the back of my neck again. I tossed the soaked towel in the corner. There was a stack of clean ones in the front office where Lola worked.

She was the office manager and one of the old ladies to leadership. Like she knew we'd hate dripping sweat, she kept the air on in the office with three huge water dispensers and clean towels. Very mother-hen like for such a tough old bitch.

"All because Rita asked him to. It's not right that she has so much control over him." Leo spit again. Where was he getting all that saliva?

I pulled a face and turned away. "Not because of her. The Institution crumbled. We had to restructure our business to make sure we don't have any problems. Javier has a soft spot for them. That Rita's friends with their new woman is the least important of the reasons we pulled back from those businesses."

Glancing back at Leo, I curled my tongue over my canine, and leveled him with a serious stare.

"Look, I'm just saying, overseeing the streets is a fuck of a lot easier than watching men break apart cars and rebuild them." His top lip started to quiver like he was scared.

"We've been in this business for years. We're just expanding." Building cars and bikes was actually how Icame to be a Dirty Dog. It was in my blood. I couldn’t hate it, just the circumstances of the weather.

Did Leo really not know about Rita's Lambo Javier had made just for her? ThatI’dmade?

We couldn't have done that without our shop. It had just never been monetized before. The Dirty Dogs hadn’t needed it in that capacity.

He laughed, the sound shaky. "Man, what's up your ass? You're usually the fun time guy."

"Iamthe fun time guy, but I'm also the get shit done guy, and the devoted Dirty Dog guy. Take a lesson. It's not all fun and games. This is our life and our responsibility."

Hopping off the warped picnic table, I sauntered toward the bay. Three feet away, the distant sound of engines rumbled. Tipping my head, I listened.

Those weren't ours. I'd recognize them.

Unlike Leo and his buddy Damen, I loved cars. But I specialized in bikes.

These were new school. Probably crotch rockets.

I didn’t hate them. I had one of those too. As a lover of all things bikes, I was an equal opportunist to most of the guys’ disgust.

Yep. A string of bikes came around the corner, fanning out to make an impressive V as they headed right for us. Shiny leather vests that were probably just taken off the hanger today. Cutesy patches and brand new jeans.

Where were these guys from?

"What the hell?" Leo muttered.

Pivoting on my heel, I turned to face the newcomers. I whistled to signal the guys in the bay, then crossed my arms as I waited for them to climb off their bikes.

My piece was in my holster, easy to get to, but I didn'twant to come at this from violence. It could be innocent, although unlikely.

The Dirty Dogs walking along the roof of our building and surrounding us wouldn't let these men even twitch the wrong way without going down in a bloody mess.

The man up front took off his helmet and shook out his hair.

That was...unexpected.

It had been impossible to see anything about the guy between the clothes, leathers, and helmet, but I'd assumed he was someone local.

Not this ginger giant with pale skin and mountains of freckles. He set his helmet on his seat and walked over, unstrapping his gloves and pulling them off. He didn't smile, not at first. When he was a few steps away, he grinned and stuck out his hand.

"Matthews, nice to meet you." So he was American.

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