|Author:||C. Wayne Winkle|
|Published:||July 12th 2017 by Outlaws Publishing LLC|
The latest blockbuster bestseller from western author C. Wayne Winkle. “These girls should do very well.” The Mexican woman whose name Snake Eyes never knew grabbed the rope tied around each girl’s neck and jerked them around and off to the back of the cantina. Her one eye gleamed as she pulled them along. She cursed them just because she could. Their wails and sobbing tore at his ears until the thick wooden door at the end of the long hallway slammed shut. He knew what the girls were in for; his men had broken them in on the long trip to Mexico. Marlon “Snake Eyes” Roberts came by his nickname honestly. Anyone looking at him would see no humanity behind his black eyes. Six feet tall, 200 pounds, he came from a family with money and influence.
But no love. Now, he closed his eyes to the terror shining in the little girls’ eyes as they were dragged away. Just like always, the relief he felt once the girls he caught were delivered flowed through his chest. The crying and wailing he endured during the days he’d transported them from the Texas panhandle to this town in Mexico were finally over. Maybe I can sleep tonight. For sure I will if I drink enough of this tequila.
The man sitting with him at the scarred wooden table poured another two fingers of the tequila into a tin cup and slid it across the table to Snake Eyes. “You always bring us such fresh young girls, Snake Eyes. Where do you find so many?” Snake Eyes flicked his life eyes up from the table top to meet the man’s gaze. For a moment, he just held that gaze steady without blinking. He found this to be intimidating to most people. He liked that. He didn’t like people asking him personal questions. But this man paid him well for the girls he brought. He lifted his gaze from the man to the room around him. Adobe walls, a bar along one wall, a few tables with rickety chairs scattered around the area in front of the bar. Low ceiling lamps hanging from wooden beams, gave off pale yellow light even in the daytime. The rough planks that formed the floor needed sweeping as he figured they did every day with the dust blowing in the open door from the street outside.