Libro Vaquero ((exclusive)) -

"The badge," Bruno said softly. "You took my badge and melted it down for a belt buckle. But you forgot something, Rafael."

Don Rafael sat frozen, a thin line of blood on his cheek where the bullet had kissed him.

Bruno’s hand moved faster than a rattler’s strike. The Colt roared once, twice, three times. The two gunmen in the doorway crumpled before their hands touched their pistols. The third bullet took Don Rafael’s hat off and pinned it to the wooden wall behind him. libro vaquero

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 did not move. His voice was gravel scraped over bone. "Talking is for men with breath left to waste, Rafael." "The badge," Bruno said softly

"Bruno," Don Rafael said, removing his hat. "I heard you were back. You should have sent word. We could have… talked."

His name was Bruno Cruz. Six years ago, he had been the sheriff. Now, his face was a map of old scars and his eyes were two dead coals. He wore a black hat, cracked with age, and a grey poncho that hid the handle of a Colt .45. Bruno’s hand moved faster than a rattler’s strike

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