Libro Vaquero -

He was waiting.

The batwing doors creaked. A man in an expensive charro suit entered. He was clean-shaven, with soft hands and a crueler smile. His name was Don Rafael Mendoza.

Bruno’s eyes flickered. The woman. Elena. She had been his wife. Then she had been Don Rafael’s prize. They said she died of a fever. Bruno knew the fever had a name and a pearl-handled pistol. libro vaquero

The silence stretched for an eternity. Then Don Rafael’s hand fell to his side.

Don Rafael raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what is that?" He was waiting

He turned his back and walked toward the door. For a moment, Don Rafael’s hand twitched toward his own hidden derringer.

Bruno stood up. He took a small, tarnished star from his pocket—the remnants of his old sheriff’s badge, melted and twisted. He placed it on the table. He was clean-shaven, with soft hands and a crueler smile

Bruno stopped without turning around.