25. Andre
ANDRE
L ife in the Institution was, in a lot of ways, about opulence and extravagance. Vicente was at the top of the food chain, and he wanted everyone to fucking know it.
The Dirty Dogs were what everyone in pop culture assumed motorcycle clubs to be, and then some.
The driver dropped us off in an alley of several decrepit buildings. I tried not to sneer at the trash and shit lining the streets. If any of the Dirty Dogs had scouts, I didn’t want to offend them before I’d even had a chance to get one foot in the door.
I could thank Thaddeus for this lead. Even though he worked within the Institution, he had a cousin who joined the Dirty Dogs a few years ago. If it wasn’t for that small connection, I wouldn’t even attempt this kind of meet-up.
But, we needed power behind us. If we had any chance of living past next month, we needed as many options and contingency plans as we could build around us.
Thaddeus had done his best to explain to his cousin that we weren’t part of the Institution and that we were separating ourselves.
We’d see how well that played over when we got in front of them.
Lafe caught Amorette’s hand when she got out of the car and pulled her close. He had a fucking lovestruck look on his face. It would take someone two seconds to figure out he was head over ass in love with her.
Then I saw the signs of slight tremors running through his body. He was working himself up, and maybe he was using Amorette to avoid reaching for the drugs.
I dropped my head and sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was a mistake. I should have grabbed Grey, maybe even Parker, and come without Lafe and Amorette.
This night was going to be a shit show, and we hadn’t even made it through the doors yet.
Matías had a quick word with the driver before he drove away. I checked my messages for instructions on how to find this place, but Matías started walking toward the building at the end of the alley.
The sun had fully set now, and the music blared from different sides of the street. It sounded like multiple parties were happening, and quite a few people were coming and going. Most leered at us, no matter how we’d dressed to fit in.
“Come on,” Matías said over his shoulder, and his gaze lingered a little too long on Amorette.
Did he think she was a prize to be passed around the group? That wasn’t going to happen, especially since he wouldn’t be in our group. Doc could quit his fucking meddling.
“Where are you going?” I glanced down again to ensure I’d read the instructions right. “My contact said we were supposed to go to the building with a green x on the door.” The one that was right next to us.
The x was sloppy, and neon paint had dripped before thoroughly drying. It was also old as shit, because only half of the letter was visible.
“That’s not where you want to go. The Dirty Dogs are shits when it comes to testing out newcomers.”
I was behind him, though when he turned his head as he scanned the street, the curve of his cheek lifted like he was grinning. Fucking asshole.
“And how would you know that?”
His cheek raised even higher and his shoulders shook like he was fucking laughing at us. “I may have been here a time or two. This is the door we want.”
I exchanged a look with Parker. He was still smarting from the embarrassment Amorette had heaped on his shoulders, but for the moment, he seemed as suspicious of this entire scenario as I was.
Glancing back, I searched for the car, but it was gone. The alley behind us seemed twice as crowded as when we arrived, and more than half of the people watched us with undisguised interest.
Matías banged his knuckles against the door with a red devil dog painted over it. The door was shit; the art was legit.
The door squealed as it opened, and an older bald man with a full beard and more than a head shorter than Matías appeared from the shadows. He squinted at Matias, then a broad smile broke out over his face.
“Matías!” He reached out and yanked him into a hug and they slapped each other on the back.
The man couldn’t have been that much older than us. How the hell did they know each other when all I’ve heard about the Dirty Dogs was how they hated the Institution, and we’d be skinned alive to try and make allies out of them? I didn’t need to turn and look at my brothers and Amorette.
Their disbelief rolled over me like a dump truck.
The man stepped back and took one look at us, wiping away any friendliness. His top lip curled. He knew exactly who we were.
“Why are these fuckers here?”
Tensing, I started to tell him that Thaddeus’ cousin was expecting us, but Matías cut me off.
“Umberto, these are my brothers. Not Vicente’s sons.”
Umberto wasn’t impressed. “And that means what to us? They do his dirty work for him. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a man or two to that one.” He nodded at Grey.
There had been a few fights to the death that Grey had managed. The Dirty Dogs had gone down with little effort from Grey’s fighters. That was the end of joint fights and the beginning of bad blood at our level. Although they hated the Institution so much, it would have been there regardless.
Matías wouldn’t back down. “They’re on my side,” he said softly, staring into Umberto’s eyes. “You know how important family is to me.”
“Who did that to your face?”
“Vicente.” Matías shrugged.
I itched to look at my brothers, but I didn’t want to give anything away. Who was this man?
Umberto ran his tongue over dull, yellow teeth, then nodded. “Fine. But you’re responsible. The bitches are here tonight too. If you want to keep that one off the menu, someone needs to be with her at all times.”
He turned and walked into the darkness. Matías followed.
I glanced back to see what was behind us before we disappeared inside the territory of the Dirty Dogs. Some people were still looking our way, although most had returned to stumbling around the alley, laughing and drinking. Partying. Barrels were being wheeled out for fires.
Another long breath escaped me as I followed after Matías.
Umberto walked us down a long dim hallway. Once we reached the end, he pushed open the door, and fear and regret washed over me.
I brought Amorette here?
Fuck. I groaned.
Parker slammed into my back, then shoved me out of the way. I felt more than saw my brothers and Amorette file out behind me.
Cheap club lighting did a poor job of brightening the place up. It was dark, dank, and the smoke from various drugs swirled around the room. Women half-blitzed out of their minds walked around naked if they weren’t outright fucking or getting fucked.
From the leather collars around their throats, these women weren’t here as liberated sex workers. They were slaves, and a much less cared-for version than what Maikel offered. That was saying something.
Although Maikel’s women were for any and all types of kinks. These women were primarily dark-haired and dark-skinned local girls probably traded by their families.
Parker tried to peel away, but I grabbed his arm and yanked him close enough to whisper in his ear. “You better fucking stay with us. Just because they know Matías doesn’t mean they will give us a pass. And Amorette’ll lose her mind if she realizes what these girls are.”
He shrugged off my hold and straightened his t-shirt while glaring at me. Oh, he was pissed. What the hell ever. We had bigger things to worry about than him getting his fucking rocks off to feel better.
“Fine,” he bit out.
It was enough to lift some of the tension from my shoulders, though not much.
When I turned around, a woman was carrying a tray of white lines right by Lafe.
His gaze was glued to it with his nostrils flared.
Amorette tugged on his arm. Besides, she couldn’t know what he was looking at, since the tray was higher than her head.
She couldn’t fucking see it, but she could see that his face had paled and his smile lines had deepened around his mouth.
Where the hell had Matías gone, dammit?
“Do you see Matías?” I walked over to Grey, then was pulled back just in time to miss making contact with a curvy, naked woman.
I shot a glance at Amorette, and her mouth was pinched as her troubled gaze followed the woman. She suspected. Or maybe hoped she didn’t walk into a place like the Gallery.
All this was speculation, and I didn’t know why I even bothered. It didn’t matter if she detested it or not. Despite not partaking in it, we couldn’t really stop others from running pussy. Especially if we wanted them to be our allies.
Clenching my jaw, I turned back to the room.
Grey smacked my chest and pointed to the back wall.
There were a few couches that had seen better days and a handful of men lounging around smoking cigars.
Matías perched on the arm of one of the couches as he carried on a conversation with the oldest man there.
The laugh lines on his face did little to hide the hardness underneath.
I’d never met him in person, but I’d bet this was the leader of the Dirty Dogs.
I jerked my head toward Matías to signal my brothers to follow. With every step, I measured my breath and kept my hands down by my sides. The environment was lax, and no one had attempted an attack for blood. Yet.
Because of who we were, there could only be so much civil conversation. Which brought up the question, why was Matías so fucking comfortable here?
Leading the way through the crowd, a few more of the Dirty Dogs recognized us.
Sneers and slurs were slung our way, yet no one approached us.
Right before we got to the couches, one of the girls dropped before a man on the far end and pulled his dick out.
He petted her hair as she started to suck him off.
Fucking hell, Amorette was going to make a scene and get us killed. I wanted to check on her or hide the view from her, except that might be more dangerous than just letting this all fucking play out.