Savages

135

Esteban is intrigued by the girl.

Of course he is, are you kidding?

Anglo chick, guera, guapa, and those tattoos running down her arm? A mermaid and shit? And those blue eyes?

She’s a bruja, a witch, an enchantress.

No, don’t get it wrong, Esteban isn’t in love with her. Would his dick like to get up that? Sure—dicks have minds of their own. But he’s in love with Lourdes, faithful to her and her swollen belly.

But he can’t see her.

He can call her, but now Lado has him down here, taking care of the guera hostage. Bringing her meals, guarding her, making sure she don’t get away. Lado, he was going to cut this girl’s head off; Esteban is sure glad that didn’t happen.

Doesn’t know how he’d deal with that, he’s still trying to get that other thing out of his head, the thing with that lawyer, squirming on the floor, begging, crying. Esteban can still see his own hand pulling the trigger, that lawyer’s brains and hair blowing out the backside—he still wants to cry every time he thinks about that, which is a lot.

So he sure hopes Lado don’t want him to do something to this girl.

She seems nice.

Loca, but nice.