Outcast Early Access

Prologue
Matías, 4 years ago
My heart pounded in anticipation.
From both the soft curvy body pressed between me and the wall, and the near discovery of Tomas stumbling across us. The man was an idiot, but he was dangerous because he’d sing like a canary to my father to get more power.
My father, Vicente. Head of the Institution, otherwise, known as the Castillo cartel.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I growled against Rita's ear. Tonight was another festival, one of many that Father held in his city.
Rita shouldn't be here. The Dirty Dogs weren't enemies, but they weren't exactly welcome when Vicente wasn't given explicit details about why they were here and when they'd leave.
Or what was in it for him.
She laughed, the sound full and throaty as her nails dug into my chest before she slid her hands up around the back of my neck. Never mind that some ass might wander down the alley and see us. We were barely out of the light and every fucking person here would recognize me.
I was the spitting image of Vicente, unfortunately.
"Don't be such a fucking coward." Her dark brown eyes twinkled as she leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her succulent lips against mine. Anger in my gut whipped alongside desire.
She was delicious.
Ever since I'd met her, she'd had a fire about her that was wild and thrilling. The woman was every man's temptation with curly, black hair and miles of curves. To top it off, she wrapped up her sex appeal in bright red gloss that was just as addictive as she was.
I licked my lips, tasting that sweet, cherry flavor as I grabbed her hips and pressed her deeper into the wall.
"That was Tomas who just passed us. You know who that is?"
In the dark light of night, I could just make out her eyes rolling. "No, nor do I give a damn."
"You should. He's a weasel who'd do anything to climb the ladder. And finding the gang princess under the heir to the Institution would be like candy to a pedophile. He doesn't want it, but he'd use it to get exactly what he wants." My words were low and forceful. I wanted her to understand exactly how dangerous this was.
Except, she huffed. Like I was an idiot.
"You worry too much."
"You don't worry enough!" I fired back.
Pausing, she studied me in the shadows. Her thumbs made soft sweeps against the column of my neck as her lips drooped and I shivered in the cool, night air.
"Then let's get out of here, Matías. Let's go strip on the beach or tear it up in one of my clubs. That way you can breathe and lose that giant stick up your ass."
I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled her away from the rough concrete wall. Graffiti art shimmered in the few places the light touched as we headed deeper into the alley and away from the main celebration.
There was no winning with her. She was a spoiled brat at the best of times, but damn did I love her.
Sliding my fingers down her arm, I caught her hand in mine. She started swinging our joined hands like we were a bunch of stupid teenagers.
We were. We were being stupid. Her for coming here in the first place, and me for entertaining her when anyone could see us.
But no matter how dangerous this was, I couldn't turn her away. I wouldn't.
"Beach or club?"
"What?" I glanced at her before scanning the alley ahead and behind us.
"Where are we going from here? Because you're not dropping me off or sending me on my merry fucking way." She snorted and started swerving her hips in a dancing motion. "The night's young and I'm tougher than you are. I'd win in a fight."
I didn't even answer that as I quirked a brow toward her.
"Let's go to the club." That was the safest option. Javier's men were ruthless when it came to protecting their territory. And they'd go apeshit to protect their princess.
I could also actually relax and enjoy myself there. Any other men from the Institution would be shot on sight.
She tossed an unimpressed look over her shoulder. "You're starting to make me feel like a dirty secret."
Shaking my head, I tugged her back against my side. "You're not a dirty secret. You're a precious one. Of our two fathers, yours is sane and mine is not. I like your pretty head right where it is. I'd rather not see it on a stake because he's throwing a tantrum."
A shiver worked its way up my spine as she stopped walking.
Glancing up, she narrowed her eyes. "You think Vicente would do that? Murder the daughter of a dangerous organization that wouldn't hesitate to rain fire on his ass?"
I rolled my lips. "I think my father is insane and his ego is the most important thing to him. He's unpredictable and that's why we have to be careful."
Rita sighed, absolutely put out, but in the next breath, she was already moving on from the serious moment. "Fine. My car is two blocks over."
I twirled her around before bringing her back into me, lightening the mood. The last thing I wanted to do was let my father be a dark cloud over the few stolen hours with Rita.
Call me a fool, but it was these moments that made all the others bearable.
Being the only legitimate son of a psychopath was a lonely place to be. I'd learned that time and time again, any time I'd attempted to make any sort of connection with anyone.
Even my own brothers.
***
I parked Rita's car on the sidewalk in front of the club entrance. A few bystanders jumped out of the way and flipped us off.
"You crazy-ass motherfucker," one man called as I stepped out of the car. He didn't recognize me.
Why would he? I was in Dirty Dog territory, and for the most part, gangs were beneath Vicente unless he could use them for his gain or entertainment. Javier, Rita, and maybe a few of his trusted men, were the only ones ever invited to Institution events.
Ignoring them, I walked around the car to open Rita's door. But the men had already shut up. Rita had her hand in mine, stepping one stiletto out at a time. When I glanced over my shoulder, a handful of lower-level Dirty Dogs had surrounded the men.
They got the idea and stumbled down the street.
"You're always causing issues," Esteban grinned, dimples popping out. Crossing his arms, his eyes were glued to Rita as we joined the small group at the door entrance.
"They caused their own issues by not recognizing my car. It's not like it's a sedan." She wrinkled her nose as she glanced back. Her black and red homemade Lamborghini Veneno sparkled under the streetlights.
It was a beautiful car that the Dirty Dogs had sourced, chopped, and rebuilt just for her. And it was so recognizable, no one dared to touch it.
Her car might not have been the only one like it on the continent, but it was damn sure the only one with metallic stilettos hanging from the mirror with a stuffed animal, snarling, dog head.
She pulled me inside and the crowd shifted out of her way like water.
Unlike Vicente's clubs with popular American club tracks, this one, like most of the Dirty Dogs’ places, played the local music. The rolling beats and drums made specifically for latin dances. And the Dirty Dog establishments catered to them all.
You wanted to dance bachata? No problem. Salsa or samba? They played music for it. The Dirty Dogs’ clubs were about having a good time and they looked good doing it.
Rita raised one hand in the air, swaying to the music as she led us toward the stage. That's where she loved to be. In the spotlight.
Where I should want to be too. But we were so different, separated by miles of life experiences, it was a wonder she even wanted me.
A drunk kid, probably around twenty, tried to slide up against her, reaching for her ass, but she caught his throat, digging her sharp, blood-red nails into his skin right before she tossed him away. All without missing a beat.
It was ruthless. She was a different creature than anything I'd ever grown up with and I wanted to fuck her so hard anytime she exercised a tiny bit of personality.
Because Rita did not give one fuck.
A staff girl carried a tray of shots over her head, and Rita pulled her hand away to grab two. Turning, she handed me one as she rolled her glass against her smirking lips. I tossed it back, keeping my gaze locked with hers.
She followed, and immediately, the liquor set off a round of tingles through my body. They burned like ice cold needles in the best way.
Grabbing my shirt, she yanked me against her. "Are you better now?" Rita asked against my neck as she started rotating her hips against mine.
I was a shit dancer, but I gripped her hips and did my fucking best to match her rhythm. This made her happy. For one goddamned second, I was enough to make someone else happy.
Just me. And my actions. Nothing else.
That was the second most intoxicating thing about being with Rita. The first was how alive she made me feel. The third was how she seemed to want me above everyone else.
Wasn't that the trifecta of doom?
Someone comes along and makes you feel important, wanted, and alive.
Then boom, you were catapulted to your death because you got lazy.
If it wasn't for my years-long relationship with Javier, the leader of the Dirty Dogs, I'd be sure my father sent her to test me. But she was no more in his pocket than my half-brother, Andre, was.
She trailed kisses along my neck, and giggled as she did. There would be a red-smeared line for everyone to see and that was exactly what Rita wanted.
The Dirty Dog princess was possessive. She got off on any mark she was able to leave on me. I wouldn't put it past her to try and maim me permanently one day.
I couldn't even care.
"I love the way you smell," she whispered in my ear as we danced.
"Like sweat and bad decisions?" I called over the music.
She laughed like I'd made a joke. I was dead serious.
"No. Like mine."
That...did something to me.
Lowering my head, I barely brushed my lips against hers when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Freezing, I held my breath. What were the chances that was my father on his festival night?
High.
That was how my life went. As much as I wanted Rita in the center, it revolved around my father and his whims.
I pulled back and slipped my phone from my pocket.
Valentina: Daddy is having a bit too much fun. If you want to save a few lives, you should probably join him.
Closing my eyes, I forced myself to exhale.
"What's wrong?" Rita gave me a shake.
"I have to get back to the mansion,” I shouted over the music.
"Why?" she snapped.
I shook my head. It didn't matter. She wouldn't understand. "Can you take me back?"
"This is bullshit.” She pushed me away from her. “When are you going to stop treating me like some gutter whore you're too ashamed to take home to Daddy?" She spewed her words like venom.
"It's not like that, and you know it." I tried to pull her against me, but she stepped out of my reach.
"You need to grow a pair, Matías. All you're doing is letting your father walk all over you. You're going to run the Institution one day. Act like it."
I laughed at her retreating back as she headed toward the front of the club. She'd take me back, because she wouldn't make me call one of my men here to get me. But she had no idea what she was talking about.
Tomorrow, she'd text me like tonight never ended the way it did.
The drive back was silent. She stewed in her hurt feelings, and there wasn't a thing I could think of to say to erase all the obstacles between us.
Pulling up to the edge of town, she idled the car.
"Are you going to tell him about us?" She laid her hands on her thighs and glared out the windshield. This girl and her skewed perception of our world.
Javier was a good father, he loved her. Truly loved her, and he taught her about his businesses, but sometimes, he gave her a false sense of the world.
It broke me to shatter it.
I sighed. "I can't."
"I don't fucking understand you!" she yelled. Her head whipped my way, and the red light from her dash reflected in her eyes and highlighted the angles of her face. Rita was gorgeous, hard stop, but when fire reflected in her eyes, she was a force to be reckoned with…and worshiped.
Her mouth set into an angry line and she glowered with so much resentment, I almost shrunk back in my seat.
But I was taught better than that. So I didn't show any reaction at all.
That made her furious.
"I'm Javier's daughter. I'm as much gang royalty as you are. Why the hell do you think he'd care if we're fucking?"
The Institution wasn’t a gang, but I kept that to myself.
Her words stung. We were doing more than fucking. But I wouldn't admit that.
She wouldn't either. Not when I didn't make it safe for her to do so.
"Just get the fuck out of my car. You fucking asshole. Just leave." She pointed at my door, and as much as I hated to leave her this way, I got out.
I couldn't chance her idling here and someone seeing her. The disappointment leaking from her cut at my back. I’d never fucking felt so tired or defeated. What the hell was I doing with her anyway?
This was too dangerous for her, and if she got hurt, it would rip me to shreds.
***
The walk to Father’s mansion was quick, and I had a light sweat coating my skin as I passed through the front doors.
Whatever shit he was up to, he was doing it quietly. The sounds of the festival completely mute inside the sound-proofed walls.
Moving through the rooms, I cleared each one and my heart beat harder and harder.
Where the fuck was he? There were no dead bodies, no rape. Nothing to show he was going off the rails.
Then I made it to the Gallery.
He sat in his chair on the platform at the far end of the room, leaning back like a king as he sipped amber liquor from a crystal glass.
His favorite concubine, Pilar, and a new favorite, danced naked in front of him. They didn't speak and there was no music. They just writhed together in a sensual dance that was meant to entice.
Vicente Castillo liked the finer things in life, and as much debauchery as he craved, sometimes he only wanted to see the beauty. The art.
Or the subjugation.
His gaze flicked my way but his expression never changed.
"Pilar, that's enough for the night."
She immediately pulled away from the younger girl and walked toward him, dropping a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek. Then both women excused themselves.
I was more grateful in that moment than I ever had been that he wasn't like some of his men who preferred young girls. As jittery as I felt, I'd have thrown up in the corner.
"Where have you been tonight?" His words were even. Bland.
It set every alarm off in my head.
"Enjoying the festival." I clasped my hands behind my back so he didn't see them shaking.
"The Institution is a grand legacy, don't you think?" He held the crystal glass up so that the light refracted off the liquid inside.
My mouth went dry but I ignored it. My hands had always been the tell. Father had made sure the rest was beaten out of me. Metaphorically. He reserved the actual whippings for his other son. A less important, illegitimate one.
Yet everyone knew exactly who his offspring were.
"Absolutely."
One corner of his mouth twitched. "I've spent my life building it exactly the way I wanted it to be. A difficult and bloody road. One I enjoyed very much." He grinned.
I dipped my head. It was as much of an acknowledgement as he wanted.
"And I will thank you not to sully it with weak, low-class blood."
He knew. Somehow, he knew about what I'd been doing. About Rita.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course, you do. Don't take me for an idiot. I've been receiving reports for quite some time that you've been fucking Javier's daughter." He shrugged. "I've let you have your fun, now it's time to toss her away...Or I will dispose of her my way."
Black edged the outside of my vision as I tried my best not to swallow. I didn't want to give him any indication she mattered. Just in case this was a bluff.
"Fucking is my right." I didn't deny Rita in that sense. That would be too obvious. But I could downplay what she meant to me. "That's what you've always taught me."
His grin turned into a smile, but his eyes grew colder. "As long as you're not trying to tear down what I've worked so hard to build. When you marry, it will be to someone I approve of. Who doesn't have a family that has the means to take some of my power from me. There will be no alliances, no truces. No marriages for the better good of society." His top lip peeled back in disgust.
"Who said anything about marriage?" I jerked my head back in surprise. Rita and I had never even hinted at the subject. I wouldn't dare because of what it could mean for her.
But why had he jumped to that conclusion?
"Glad we're on the same page, son. If there are no feelings, then it's best to move on. You've enjoyed her sweet pussy, so you fuck your way to the next piece. I do have an entire Gallery you’ve never used." He waved his hand at the empty glass panels on the wall where women usually danced for his guests.
What the hell did I say to that? I wasn’t like the men he associated with. I didn’t rape women because I was stronger, more powerful. Just the thought had bile rising in my throat.
"Unless you really do care for her?" He raised his brows.
"No," I answered too fast and satisfaction slithered through his eyes.
"I don't mind a gang war. It's been too quiet around here lately,” he said as he leaned forward.
Reaching for the mask I'd worn all my life, I smiled. "I don't mind a little excitement. All you have to do is say the word."
He laughed and slapped his knee. "I knew there was a reason you're my heir. Outside of the obvious ones. Go back and enjoy the festivities. Valentina was pouting when I kicked her out earlier. You could find her and make her feel better."
Not fucking likely.
I bowed my head and walked toward the entrance. When I was almost to the door he called my name.
"Matías..."
I turned to face him.
"If you're lying to me, the girl will die. I'll send her to Randall first, just to make sure you learn your lesson." Then he grinned wide. "Not that you care about such things."
One side of my mouth lifted even as my stomach rolled. "I'm my father's son."
"That you are, my boy. That you are."
I walked out of there with one thought.
I would not be the reason Rita was sent to the chambers. She would not die because of me.